Callahan Boswall had never claimed to be good with animals. Large ones were best left to his hunting skills, dispatched efficiently and without fuss. Small ones, though… they demanded patience he rarely possessed.

It was a night thick with mud and rain, the kind that seeped into boots and chilled you to the bone. Even the most cautious townsfolk avoided the slick roads, huddling under eaves or rushing from door to door. Callahan, however, had business he couldn’t postpone. He led his horse toward a nearby stable, the leather reins slick in his grip, and began securing it against the storm.

Then, a faint rustle cut through the patter of rain. A soft, tentative meow?

He froze, brow lifting, scanning the darkened edges of the yard. Grumbling under his breath, he spotted a bundle of hay shifting unnaturally. With a swift heave, he tossed it aside and squinted into the shadowed form beneath. A small, soaking wet cat stared back at him, fur matted with mud, eyes gleaming with an insolent glow.

Callahan crouched slightly, rolling the creature gently in his hands. “What do we have ‘here?” His voice was equal parts curiosity and irritation.

The cat mewed again, bold, unafraid, as if mocking his wet boots and wind-whipped coat. Callahan’s lips twitched in the faintest semblance of a grin. “I thought rascals like you didn’t have the guts to show up ‘round these parts anymore.”

The feline blinked slowly, tail flicking, clearly unimpressed by his authority. Callahan shook his head, muttering under his breath, and carefully tucked the shivering animal under his coat. If anyone asked later, he’d deny everything—but for tonight, he couldn’t resist the small, defiant life staring up at him with a challenge he didn’t have the heart to ignore.