Chapter 29: The Grand Tour

Chapter 29: The Grand Tour

The first indication we were nearing Stonetown was the smell.

 

It wasn’t what I had expected. I'd had worries about the bad smells of civilization. My first life read enough to know low tech places had trouble with their plumbing. Or didn’t have it at all. Movies, books, games, comics, anything to do with history made it clear that towns, for all their wonder, could smell awful if they weren’t managed well for a variety of disgusting reasons from harsh fuels to literal poop.

 

Instead, the first thing I noticed was the scent of spice. This wasn’t a super-hot spice like peppers, or perhaps flavorful seasonings like cinnamon, but more felt akin to the scent in a kitchen after a day of rigorous baking whole meal grains. I noticed Mom and Sasha sniffing too, albeit a bit after I had first noticed it.

 

The next thing I knew, we broke free of the tree line and came to a dead stop. Well, Sasha stopped as Mom and I came to a dead stop.

 

There, ahead, for what looked like kilometers, were the first, real signs of active and maintained civilization I’d seen. I’d seen ruins, I’d seen abandoned structures, a thousand and one little hints and implications here and there, but not actual civilization. Even Sasha’s cottage, for all that it was clearly her home, felt isolated, almost in its own separate, magical world. If I’d been told she never left it and was some sort of mystic cat-elf living in the woods, I wouldn’t have questioned it too much.

 

This? It almost looked like what my first life would think of as golden fields of wheat, but instead the endless stocks of grain I saw were all the color of coals just cooling on the edge of a campfire. Wind swept through thousands of stalks, causing the ember wave to sway gently in waves, the ember heads catching the light as they swayed.

 

These fields were very clearly not abandoned, as there were lots of cat folk wandering the fields doing farm things, although I wasn’t sure what “farm things” entailed, exactly. In the distance, I saw what looked like a great big log wall, but I wasn’t sure as it was so far away.

 

I felt a hand on my head as Mom patted me and answered my question before I could voice it. “Ember wheat, kitten. Can you guess why it’s named that?” Mom asked.

 

I rolled my eyes up at her. “The color,” I stated imperiously. I even held my nose up! What a silly question.

 

“Close. That’s part of it, but it’s also in how they’re processed. See, when they’re ready for harvest, the stocks are grabbed up in a big pile and set on fire. What’s left behind is just the grain we then grind down.”

 

I stared, mouth open. That…

 

That couldn’t be right? What plant would need to be burned to release its seeds? Like why wouldn't the seeds burn too? “But… how?” I asked, at a loss.

 

Mom shrugged. “A wizard made it that way a long time ago,” she said.

 

Sash hummed. “Bit more than that, to my knowledge. Old, old books my family had on horticulture mentioned that burning the fields down wouldn’t actually damage the grain all that much if armies came by,” Sasha said. “Certainly. It is a very advantageous trait."

 

Huh. That made sense. Mom looked surprised. Which was weird. I felt like she knew everything.

 

A certain blue rice I hadn’t had in what felt like a lifetime came to me, and I felt myself salivating. “Mom? Sasha!? Do they grow blue rice here too?”

 

Mom paused, uncertain, her ears a little low.

 

Sasha slowly shook her head. “I’m afraid not. It’s a bit too cold here. I know another Spire farther south had grown it, but…” she trailed off with a grimace and looked as if she really wished she hadn’t brought it up.

 

“Oh…” was all I could say. The implications there were… not nice.

 

“Let’s keep moving, right?” Mom interceded. I didn’t miss the grateful look Sasha shot Mom’s direction.

 

The tense atmosphere gradually faded as we walked between fields along a path. I even found myself skipping a bit and kept pausing to check little odds and ends I found growing.

“Ah, ash myrtle!” Sasha said, smiling as she poked at the dark stems and leaves of the knee height plant. “Very young, probably a good few years to reach its max height. Likes the edges of ember wheat fields. Helpful plant, good for wind breaks, honey bees, and for containing accidental fires,” she said.

 

That was interesting but just made me have more questions! “Accidental? You mean ember wheat just, catches fire?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around such a weird staple crop, although… Was it weird, or was it only weird compared to what I knew from my first life?

 

While I was mulling that over, Sasha continued. “Yes,” she said with an indulgent smile. “Most of the time it won’t, but if it’s dry enough on a sunny day they can. Seed bunches fall harmlessly to the ground and can be swept up and sifted from the ash. Better to get them in a pile first so less work, but you get the idea.”

 

Sasha bent down to examine a wheat stalk and gave it a sniff. “Coming along nicely but won’t be ready for a few months. Whole village gets together for that,” Sasha said with a little smile. “Who knows, maybe you’ll get to be the one to set the spark, eh?”

 

My entire ruminations and thoughts on the weirdness or lack thereof regarding ember wheat came to a screaming halt at Sasha’s words.

 

I…

 

I could? It just occurred to me that I wouldn’t just be visiting a village, but we’d be a part of it. Mom hadn’t made any mention of continuing on somewhere else.

 

My tail twitched violently as the prospect became very, very real and made my chest all fluttery. I gulped. I hoped the people were nice.

 

We continued along the path, more properly a road now snaking between fields. Not a big road, but it was more than well packed dirt and had gravel across the path. Some people saw us and waved, and Sasha waved back at them, but Mom and I were getting a lot of stares.

 

I felt a bit shy and sheepish at the looks, even from a distance. They looked like farmers. They wore a combination of pants or skirts in a gamut of colors from browns to yellows and greens with a tunic or practical blouse as they navigated the rows of wheat.

 

It all looked like very practical clothes for working outside in and around a lot of dirt. A lot carried hoes but some had other tools like shovels, hatchets, etc., as they prowled among the field in small teams doing, er, farm stuff. It’d almost look like something out of my first life’s history books if not for the fact that every single person had cat ears and a twitching or waving tail that often stilled when they spotted us before they resumed.

 

I took a breath. My first life had walked city streets with thousands of people on them. I could manage a few strangers glancing at Mom and me.

 

The next thing I noticed as we steadily closed in on the village was the sound. My ears twitched and perked up as I picked up the sound of a lot of chimes coming from the village.

 

It sounded pretty, but it was only when we were close to the walls that I saw the source: hundreds of spiraled shells bound together with twine and rope hung from the walls, even outer structures like the occasional barn or shack I saw. They let out pleasing chimes, even the occasional whistling sound like a fairy’s take on the ocean.

 

I didn’t recognize the shells at all. Some were spirals the wheel like spirals the size of my hands, while others were much more conical, with lots of variations in between.

 

“Mama, what are those from?” I asked, pointing at the distant shells. I don’t think I’d seen them on the island.

 

Mom smiled at me and gave a pat. “Coilfish, Gwen. Also call them ringfish, or shellies for the real small one, or whorls for the real big ones. It’s been a while since I saw any, but they swim in the ocean, lots of them, eating up small fish or plankton.”

 

“So many,” I said, staring at the variety. Some weren’t small, either. While most of the spiral shells mounted on the wall looked to be the size of a fist, I saw a few bigger than my head. Mom mentioned some got real big, but how big was that?

 

Yet, I did have another question. “Mama, why didn’t we see these on the island?” I asked in Illia.

 

Mom jumped at the language change. She glanced out of the corner of her eye at Sasha, but she looked preoccupied with her basket. “I honestly don’t know, sweetie. We didn’t see lots of things on the island that we should have, shellies one of them. I can make guesses, but lots of things weren’t right there…”

 

A few moments later, Mom slumped slightly. “Um…” Mom started after a moment as if realizing something. “I remember making some wind chimes as a little girl myself with them, and looks like that tradition’s still going strong,” she said with only vaguely artificial cheer.

 

I opened my mouth to ask a question.

 

“Yes, they do taste good. I’m fond of coilfish noodles, myself, maybe we can get some sometime soon now that we’re around people,” Mom said before I could say anything.

 

I pouted at her. I didn’t think with my stomach!

 

I also didn’t miss how she was trying to be so cheerful and act like things weren’t terribly wrong back on the island.

 

“The spawning season is coming up,” Sasha interrupted casually. “You’ll probably be able to see a lot of them on the beaches soon.”

 

Mom mildly jumped and stared wide eyed at Sasha. That was weird.

 

I tilted my head at that but was distracted as we passed by a large depression in the ground. Grass had grown up around a lot of it

 

I hadn’t noticed it quite at first, but up close it was very obvious and looked to be the foundations of some structure and walls, mostly made from brick. Hard to say what it was, but it could have been a home, maybe an old shop, I had no idea, but it seemed isolated. Although, why would it? There were cultivated fields everywhere else, so why wasn’t it farmed over? Mom didn’t comment on them, nor did Sasha, but…

 

My ruminations were cut short as we finally got close to the gates. Up close, I saw they were wide open with…

 

No guards? I blinked, looking around. Some other catfolk were walking to and through the gates occasionally, but there wasn’t, like, someone standing there guarding the gate or doing sentry duty. It was just… open.

 

Huh, maybe the village was too small? Or everyone knew each other. It could also be that it was broad daylight, so why bother with guard duty when people had work to do?

 

Up close, the musical chimes of the intertwined shells held together in the hundreds along the wall were louder, but not overpoweringly so. It felt pleasant, almost comforting in a sorta orchestral choir sort of way.

 

It occurred to me I hadn’t heard much in the way of music before now. Mom sang me songs, and I remembered tapping on an improvised drum, but the island didn’t exactly have much.

 

It was nice. I don’t think I could imagine better sounds to accompany me on my first trip into proper civilization.

 

I slipped my claw into Mom’s and felt her squeeze my hand as Sasha led us through the gates, and for once, I felt excited and hopeful.

 

~~~~

 

“Gwen, get down from there! It’s okay!”

 

No, it wasn’t!

 

My teeth were chittering, my hairs were bristled, and my claws were sunk as deep into the tree bark as I could manage.

 

It’d all been nice at first. Nervous, but excited. So many intact buildings, so many things to sniff from fish to cooking food to wood smoke to salt to… okay, and some bad smells too given it was a village with a few hundred people, but even that wasn’t so bad and kept to a minimum.

 

Then, I’d noticed the stares.

 

I’d been walking with Mom, gawking at the intact buildings. Most were wood with whitewashed exteriors with tiled roofs made of a blueish material, but some buildings had stripes or altered colors, like the tavern having more vibrant stripes. Also, taverns were a thing. Or bars. Inns? I’m not sure. The word Sasha used and explained was a “place people drink at” which could be a lot of different things.

 

Mom had looked at it a bit longingly, and I felt bad for her. I guessed she hadn’t had a drink in a long time, although I couldn’t help but wrinkle my nose a bit. Even from outside the smell was a bit strong to me. Not bad, just strong.

 

But, about this point, a group had exited the building and they all stared at us. Mom got the bulk, followed by Sasha, and then there was me.

 

Almost everyone had darker hair than us. Mom and I had red hair, while Sasha was a cherry blonde, but here I could see the vast majority of people had brown or black hair. They also didn’t have the facial markings Mom and I had. Their clothes looked normal and practical for daily work, pants, some dresses but nothing overly fancy with a surprising amount of color thrown in.

 

But they were staring.

 

I’d gripped Mom’s paw tighter but took solace in how I was able to keep going. I then realized that this was only a few people.

More were stepping out. Some from houses, some from buildings. I saw people carrying firewood set their loads aside to stare at us, people with baskets filled with fish stopped and pointed. We’d moved on, passing great pits in the ground, nearly white and filled with salty brine. Their tenders stopped, too.

 

Not everyone had stopped to look at us, but enough had.

 

On one hand, this made sense. I knew from my first life that small villages likely didn’t get too many outsiders, so a newcomer was sure to attract attention. Our obvious differences, even our manner of dress being in something I now realized was slightly finer than what they wore, made us stand out even more..

 

On the other claw…

 

I broke about the time we got in sight of the ocean and what looked like well-established wooden docks, with a few fishing boats tied up nearby. Nearly fifty catfolk with twitching ears turned to look at us, dwarfing the previous crowd. It should be noted that the previous crowd were, while somewhat diminished, still behind us and watching. This meant I couldn’t hide behind Mom as we were surrounded.

 

ToomanytoomanyunknownsdangermomhelpwatchingwatchinghidehidemompleasehelphidehideIHAVETOHIDE—-

Which led me to now:

 

Clinging to a tree higher up while Mom tried to coax me down.

 

Truth be told, I’d calmed down a bit ago. But I was absolutely mortified.

 

I thought knowing how big cities could be would prepare me, that having so much knowledge of my first life would let me stroll about. Then a moderate crowd pausing to glance at us was enough to make me lose it.

 

The tree was nice, at least. Some sort of pine needles smelled really fresh and vaguely nutty. Not quite a tom-tom tree, but still, nice.

 

“Gwen!” Mom called out to me.

 

I knew I only had so long before Mom climbed up to get me. I knew she could. I’d seen her climb way bigger trees.

 

I breathed deep, in and out, with my eyes closed, just like with those magic exercises. But I wasn’t trying to sense magic or channel mana or something, I just wanted to be nice and calm. I opened my eyes, looked down, and promptly had my claws dig in even deeper into the tree.

 

“Gwen!” Mom called once more. She wasn’t frantic, but she was worried and getting louder.

 

“I’m stuck,” I whispered. Mom, predictably, did not hear me. But it was difficult to overcome this as I was very much very high up.

 

I didn’t even know cats could be scared of heights, but here I was. I felt as if loosening my grip or retracting my claws for even a second would see me fall all the way down with a splat.

 

I gulped and tried to look down again but froze up.

 

Finally, I managed to gather my strength for one shout that, even if it was in Illia, screamed my mortification to the world. “I’m stuck!”

 

…

 

Mom got me down shortly after. Reuniting and clinging to her side was reassuring, but my face was also red hot.

 

The crowd had dissipated a bit, but I heard a lot of good-natured laughs.

 

Haha, they took joy in my suffering.

 

I jumped as I felt a poke.

 

“Gwen? I believe this would look good in your hair,” Sasha said. She was holding a pretty purple flower with a lot of petals on it. Petals which, I realized, had many shades of purple to them varying from the center to the outer edge. I breathed in and if my eyes hadn’t been focused on it before, they would now as beneath the deeply floral scent I picked up something else: magic. Faint, but there.

“May I?” Sasha looked to Mom, who nodded. With that, she gently placed the flower in my hair, positioned just beside an ear. This close, it smelled lovely, and the magic I could smell on it just enhanced it. It didn’t feel like a different magic, like how Sandy’s ship had charged and oily, this felt like the magic just enhanced everything about the flower.

 “Amethyst tear,” Sasha said. “Don’t get too many of these, but I think you’ll appreciate it.” Sasha stood back to admire her work.

 

Mom smiled at her and looked back at me. “So pretty, will have to see if we can find a mirror,” she said and knelt down. “You know, it’s okay if this is a bit overwhelming, right? I know it’s the first time we’ve been around so many people. We can take a break if you want.”

 

I shook my head, hair waving back and forth.. “No, I, I want to try. This, this is normal, right? I want to get used to it.”

 

Mom got an odd expression on her face. “I guess it is. But, you are being very brave so far. Just be sure to hold my paw and stay close, okay? I’m here for you,” she said, holding out her paw.

 

Sasha was smiling at the entire exchange, although pretended she hadn’t been listening in when I looked her way.

 

I looked back to Mom and gripped her paw. A few moments and a deep breath later, we continued our tour.

 

“This is Fishertom’s Wharf,” Sasha said with a gesture and a little bit of an eyeroll. “Bit grandiose, but what are you going to do?” she shrugged helplessly. “Around a third of the village works here in some capacity, either in maintaining ships, nets, or working the fishing boats bringing back the daily catch. Without them, I doubt the village could be anywhere near as well fed.”

 

I nodded, studying the ships. They were nothing like Sandy, being small and maybe able to host a dozen people. Several boats were docked, and I saw a few out at sea still in viewing distance. Looked kinda like longships, albeit not quite. They were squatter and fatter. “How far out do they go?” I asked.

 

Sasha hesitated, ears lowering a tad. “I’m not rightfully sure?” she said, uncertain.

 

“Probably up to a dozen, two dozen kilometers. Depends on how far out, their journey, supplies, and winds, I imagine,” Mom said, gaze fixated on the ships. “Looks similar to some old designs, I think… although if they’re being used, I guess not that old?” Mom said to me in Illia as an afterthought.

 

Sasha frowned. “I would appreciate being kept in on the conversation. My grasp of the old tongue is not as well as yours,” she said.

 

Mom froze, and I stared. She sheepishly rubbed her head and responded in Ciem Illia. “Sorry, just what we’re used to it, from back, er, home.”

 

Sasha slowly nodded contemplatively. “I see. I would dearly love to hear more about your background. Sounds like it puts my own sordid past to shame,” she said.

 

Mom nervously smiled while I shuffled my feet, unsure how to proceed.

 

“Um, can we continue looking around?” I finally tried. That wasn’t the smoothest way to move on, but I didn’t know else to do it.

 

“Of course,” Sasha smiled down at me. “Shall we, Eliza?”

 

Mom nodded.

 

We continued on. The stares were constant but felt less blatant now. Or maybe they were always just curious and now that I’d experienced it, things weren’t so bad?

 

I didn’t know.

 

The wharf’s remaining tour was interesting insofar as there were lots and lots of drying fish, some fish being butchered, fish on racks, and a full-on smoke house bellowing smoke as the catch was processed. Most of the buildings along the wharf seemed more focused on holding fish or fishy stuff than anything else. Warehouses?

 

We also saw what I learned were evaporation pools full of briny water used to get salt, as well as a lot of people busy at work on nets on rocky steps by the wharf. The last thing of note was a huge shell pile, and while some of the pile came from clams and crabs, a lot and I mean a lot a lot were those spiral shells from the walls.

 

I blinked, and whirled, eyes racing over the docks before I saw what I’d missed: the coilfish!

 

Specifically, I saw one on a table and it just…

 

I blinked again. It was like a squid with a shell? Its tentacles were vaguely moving. At least, right up until the teenage cat folk working punctured the shell with a spiked tool, did something with a knife, and scooped out the innards before gutting the rest and tossing the shell aside into a small pile in a smooth and well-practiced motion.

 

Huh. Neat.

 

The tour continued.

 

“And this s Townsquare. Also, the town's marketplace; it's not really setup for that today, but you can usually buy a bit of food. On market day, the whole town sets up and sometimes even traders from out of town show up to sell their wares,” Sasha said with a wave of her hands at flattened area. Up close, I realized the stone wasn’t carved but looked more like some sort of old and cracked concrete. At the center there was a large stone structure that smelled of water. Hopping over to it with Mom in tow, I saw it went down deep. Some kind of cistern?

 

“Ahead is the Councilor’s manor,” Sasha said, pointing to the only three story building I’d seen here. It looked about the same, but with small improvements. I saw more stones worked into it, and actual glass windows, similar to what Sasha had at her cottage. Most houses here just had some wooden blinds or panels they’d close for the windows. The front door was big and ornate, and the walls had some fancy patterns and designs on them that weren’t anything distinct but formed mildly mesmerizing spiral patterns in the architecture.

 

Mom looked at the manor with a complicated expression and signed. “Guess wealth is always the same, huh?” she said idly. Sasha definitely noticed but didn’t push her.

 

My belly rumbled at this time and both Sasha and Mom looked at me, startled. I flushed. Sasha giggled.

 

“Can I try coilfish?” I asked, looking back at the wharf. Mom briefly reached for a pocket, but stopped, looking actively pained.

 

“Gwen, I’m not sure—” Mom began but was interrupted by Sasha.

 

“Oh, it’s okay, I can get us a snack. Here, Molly’s cookshop,” Sasha guided us across the square to a house that had an overhang. There, we found an older cat woman stirring a pot that smelled super fishy and savory and made me drool while a young catboy with droopy ears chopped vegetables.

The older woman had silver hair and was a little hunched, but she brightened on seeing us. “Ah, wonderful. Pleasure to see you, Governess, and guests?” she ventured, tilting her head. “Bit early for the lunch rush, but I can get you something?”

“Coilfish noodle bowl for the little one if you would Molly,” Sasha said.

 

“Certainly,” she said.

 

I held my hands out expectantly. She tilted her head, staring at me just long enough for me to start feeling dumb before she laughed and got out a small wooden bowl. Sasha placed a few colorful shells on the table while Molly scooped up noodles and broth into the bowl. The noodles were a deep brown in color, but the broth was rich and deep, with chunks of chopped up tentacle in there.

 

I may have started drooling at the smell and possibility of eating something new.

 

“Tommy, get some extra salt fish for the little dearie, would you?” Molly said. Said ‘Tommy’ jumped at being addressed and looked over at us, wide eyed, before spotting me. He slowly nodded before he rummaged in a barrel and pulled out a few sardines? I think they were sardines and brought them over and, after a very awkward moment of staring between us, he just dropped the saltfish in my bowl and scurried back under the overhang kitchen.

 

“Just bring the bowl back when you’re done,” Molly said.

 

Part of me wanted to delve into it immediately, but I noticed Mom hadn’t gotten any.

 

“Mom? Are you going to get some?”

 

Molly smiled. “I don’t charge much, Miss. Just two pale shellies.”

 

Mom flushed. “I’m, er, okay. “

 

Sasha interjected. “It’s okay. A bowl for all of us,” she said, and gave Molly another four shells.

 

I stared as Mom fidgeted and only realized, very slowly, that we had no money and were entirely dependent on Sasha for money. Which was a super weird thought.

 

Everything I’d ever had was foraged, scavenged, or hunted. I stared down at my bowl, disquieted as I thought over this.

 

Money was weird and I’m not sure I liked it. I knew what it was, my first life told me that much, but without that knowledge I’d be totally lost on why food wasn’t just shared as needed. That’s how it’d been for all of my life first on the island, then with the refugees, and then with Sasha.

 

God, this would be so confusing if I didn’t have that first life to contextualize even some of what I was seeing.

 

We eventually sat on a log setup as a bench with a rough table. It was comfortable enough. I raised dug in with my borrowed spoon and…

 

“Mmm,” I sighed happily, slurping noodles.

 

They were thick and oddly chewy and had that same oddly smoky flavor the bread did. Made from ember wheat? The coilfish was a bit different. It felt a bit less sweet than some of the shellfish I’d tried like crab, a bit meatier, briny with a touch of sweetness. The best part was the smell, in my opinion with how savory it was with hints of roasted garlic underneath it all.

 

I liked it.

 

I demolished the bowl in short order and licked it clean. Sasha, by contrast, had also cleared her bowl, but she was impeccable afterward and I felt very self-conscious of how messy I was afterward.

 

I looked to Mom and saw she was…

 

Crying? She’d eaten a bit of her soup, but she was staring into the bowl.

 

Why was she—

 

Oh.

 

She liked coilfish noodles. Said she was fond of them earlier.

 

We’d been living alone on an island for years. Mom had been shipwrecked. This must be the first time she’d eaten this dish since I was born at least.

 

I felt so, so stupid that I had to piece it together and it took me this long.

 

I didn’t like seeing Mom cry. But I didn’t know what else I could do but lean into her side with a hug.

 

“Mama?” I asked.

 

Mom jumped. “Gwen, it’s—”

 

“It’s okay to cry, Mama,” I said, patting her arm.

 

“I’ll—”

 

“I’ll give you two a moment. I have some business with the Smith and with other customers, so how about I come back after a while?” Sasha said, gently. She left her bowl with us and stepped away. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”

 

With that, we were left alone. Mom had her mouth open but said nothing. Movement caught my eye, and I saw Molly walking up. “Here’s another bowl. Lass like you needs more weight on your bones,” she said, setting down a second bowl for me on the table.

 

“I don’t have—”

 

“I know. It’s a small kindness from me to you, you owe me no debt,” Molly said, before limping back to the kitchen with a wave.

 

This seemed to break what had been holding Mom back, and she started shaking. It was quiet, she wasn’t sobbing, something still held her up, but she finally let herself cry. As for me? I simply leaned against her and gave Mom the time she needed to mourn.

 

 

Chapter 29 Author’s Note

 

HOLY SHIT.

 

This and chapter 28 used to be one chapter, a 6k+ monstrocity, but I split them up as the previous chapter really did feel a bit more suitable for its own content, with a bit of additions thrown in.

 

Of course, the end result is me going back through and editing this and lo and behold it grew to be about 5000 words in edits, so…

 

I’m wordy and can’t help myself.

 

But I think it is done. I wanted this right, and Gwen’s first introduction to society and people needed to be good. I didn’t want this to be too generic, I wanted it to be memorable and I hope it works out.

 

We didn’t get to everything I wanted to in this chapter, but that ending felt like a good point to end on.

 

Also, map! I made this with progen arcana, bit of neat map making software, but I am working on one made in CC3 that will be a fair bit better, although I hit a snag and think I’m going to redo what I’ve got so far. Still, gives a general idea of things as I see them for Stonetown. :3

 

https://postimg.cc/sGycBHkY

 

~~~~

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