The cat had stayed.

Now it was learning the shape of the place for itself.

And the Hub, in its own way, was learning the shape of life with it.

3/3

She should probably have been annoyed.

Instead, she only watched in silence, tired and not nearly fed up enough, content to let it explore and wonder what exactly it thought it was doing.

2/3

A tired red-haired woman lies in bed in a rough wooden room while a small ginger stray cat explores the shelves above her, picking its way through bottles, jars, and practical belongings as if it already belongs there. The room is simple and lived-in, with worn bedding, shelves, wood walls, and morning light creating a grounded scene of quiet intrusion, tolerance, and a stray cat beginning to settle into life inside the Hub.

Sera was woken by something landing on her head.

Still half asleep, it took her a moment to find the little ginger stray making itself at home above her bed, picking its way across the shelves as if the room had always belonged to it.

1/3

#writingcommunity #serializedfiction #originalstory

And behind all of it, still, was what her father had taught her.

For Tarryn, that was enough to keep going.

3/3

Tarryn knew the land as well as she knew the people, and what they could be asked to hold.

Her father’s old friend knew where pressure would hit the line, and what would fail first if they got it wrong.

Nyssa knew the water, the river approaches, and how the town might use both.

2/3

At dusk near a rough settlement barricade, three women stand slightly apart from active construction while local townspeople build a raised timber lookout and firing perch behind them. One blonde woman in practical frontier clothing watches the progress with calm authority, while a dark-haired operative and a hardened armed ally assess the line and the open ground beyond it. Ladders, lanterns, braces, sandbags, rough timber, and muddy ground create a grounded frontier-defense scene of labor, planning, and readiness under pressure.

The town had grown busy, and the defensive work was taking shape fast. They were short of neither labour nor materials.

The women spread the burden between them.

1/3

#writingcommunity #serializedfiction #originalstory

So when it crossed the threshold behind her, Sera only had to look up once.

No one said much.

The cat had made its choice.

Neither of them seemed inclined to send it back out.

Sometimes that was all it took.

2/2

A red-haired woman steps into the doorway of a rough bar or common room while a small ginger stray cat follows close behind her across the threshold. Inside, another red-haired woman in simple morning work clothes looks up and notices them at once. The warm wood interior, doorway light, and quiet body language create a grounded scene of recognition, belonging, and a stray cat choosing to enter a lived-in shared space.

Eve did not take the cat in.

Not really.

She only kept coming back. Fresh scraps. A familiar hand. Enough small kindnesses to teach the little ginger stray where to look for her.

1/2

#writingcommunity #serializedfiction #originalstory

Even with weeks to prepare, they would still be farmers, shopkeepers, fishermen, teachers, and people from a dozen other trades besides.

They might not be ready.

They were willing.

From there, the responsibility was hers.

3/3

Watch rotations.
Positions.
Sightlines.
Fallbacks.
What to do if the first line broke.

She covered every outcome they could realistically prepare for.

The town was willing.

That did not mean it was ready.

2/3

At dusk beside a rough settlement barricade, a blonde frontier leader points out instructions to a small group of local defenders while a dark-haired ally and an armed guard stand with her. Lantern light, timber walls, sacks, and a weathered frontier outpost setting create a grounded scene of command, readiness, and settlement defense under pressure.

Tarryn knew well enough where the weak points were, and who she could trust to hold them.

So she started placing people.

Not speeches.
Not hope.

1/3

#writingcommunity #serializedfiction #originalstory

Oh that's brilliant.
🫶
I didn't expect it at all. I mean such detail too!
That's clean my friend. Very well done 😂

When she left, she looked back much longer than she had the day before.

She kept the smile all the way home.

4/4

Then came a quiet murmur from above, and a moment later it was on the ground, nuzzling at her leg.

Eve grinned. “Now that’s a greeting. Hello, you.”

She stroked it as she put the scraps down, then crouched with it while it ate.

3/4

Breakfast at the Hub would already be underway by the time Eve reached the docks. She only asked for a few scraps this time, then turned back for the alley.

At first she didn’t see her little friend.

2/4

A red-haired woman in practical worn clothing stands in a damp lower-city alley while a small ginger stray cat rubs against her leg beside rough walls, barrels, baskets, and worn steps. She carries a small parcel and looks down with a softened expression as the cat greets her, creating a grounded scene of growing familiarity and quiet warmth in a hard-lived urban world.

Eve was up a little later that morning. By the time she was dressed and ready to leave, Sera was already downstairs with the ledger open, head bent over figures.

Boring.

1/4

#writingcommunity #serializedfiction #originalstory

It was not enough.

It was what they had.

They would have to make do.

4/4

Less ammunition than Tarryn liked.

Tarryn was already talking through weak points and making plans for the town. As she worked through the numbers and the labor they would demand, her concern only deepened.

3/4

By evening, the three of them had fully assessed what Nyssa had said and what she had brought.

Rifles.
Sidearms.
Blades.
Charges.

2/4

Three women stand around a rough wooden worktable in a dim frontier storage room or improvised armory, studying a spread of rifles, sidearms, blades, ammunition, and explosives under warm lantern light. A blonde woman in practical clothing anchors the center while a dark-haired operative and a hardened weapons expert assess the weapons with serious focus. Crates, shelves, tools, and worn timber walls frame the room, creating a grounded scene of preparation, scarcity, and defense in a hard-lived settlement.

Nyssa arrived with the warning, a promise to help, and more tools for the work ahead.

She was glad to be put to work so soon. She’d enjoyed her time with Eve, but this was much more her speed.

1/4

#writingcommunity #serializedfiction #originalstory

If she was quick, she could stop at the alley on her way back.

That thought pleased her greatly, and she picked up her pace.

She smiled as she strode through the waking city.

4/4

The little ginger stray she’d found while wandering absently the day before had stayed on her mind more than she’d intended.

The fishmonger wrapped the scraps up without question. Eve thanked him softly, took the parcels, and turned to leave.

3/4

She bought a couple of fish fresh off the morning boats to cook back at the Hub. Two large ones, enough to share between the three of them.

More importantly, she asked for scraps for the alley cat.

2/4

A red-haired woman in a cream blouse stands at a rough fish stall on a wet working dock, buying fresh fish and wrapped scraps from a vendor in practical dockside clothing. Wooden tables, cut fish, damp boards, mooring posts, boats, and blurred waterfront labor create a grounded lower-city market scene with a real sense of trade, provision, and everyday survival in a hard industrial river world.

Eve woke that morning with more purpose than she’d had in days. She was dressed, downstairs, and out the door before anyone else had risen.

She told herself she was going for breakfast.

That was mostly true.

1/4

#writingcommunity #serializedfiction #originalstory

Busy, tired but not too bad. Works in a bit of a dysfunctional period. All over the place for shifts. Otherwise, health good, family much the same. I can complain, but only because I'm miserable by default!
Still going with the writing though, so that's good. How about you and yours? Healthy? Happy?

The answer came back clean across the water, carrying past her and into the town.

Not a threat.

A friend.

And not a moment too soon.

3/3

By evening, a smaller boat was moving upriver with purpose.

Tarryn went to meet it.

She called out to the lone, hooded figure—part greeting, part challenge.

2/3

A wide dusk view of a rough inland river landing shows a blonde woman standing at the muddy bank with her back to the viewer, wearing a long weathered coat and holding a revolver low at her side as she watches a small boat approaching across the water. Off to the left, another woman sits in a simple chair with a large gun resting beside her, quietly keeping watch. The river is broad and darkening under the evening sky, with mooring posts, rope, crates, and worn industrial details marking the landing, while a lone hooded figure in the distant boat moves upriver toward the settlement.

Whispers reached Tarryn earlier in the day. Whispers often gather flavor, but this one held.

A large vessel had been seen near the river mouth.

Unfamiliar. Even its type wasn’t recognized. It hadn’t lingered long enough for anyone to get close.

1/3

#writesky #serializedfiction #originalstory

Oof. I've been having a dabble too.
That's quite something though... Wow.
Glad I could slip on for a bit! It's such a frozen moment, the "just before" element is brilliant. 🫶

Then the plans changed, and Eve thought it was typical of her luck.

They settled for drinks instead.

Eve knew she was road-bound, even sitting still. Like she was only borrowing the chair until the next obligation pulled her back to herself.

2/4