ONE CONVERSATION TO POINT HER OUT OF THE VOID

Vivienne closed her eyes and took a deep breath in. How bad could a talk with her favorite professor be? Even if it was an out of the blue "very important" meeting a week before graduation. Even if they hadn't spoken in over a year. Even if ...

She ran a hand down her goatlike snout, feeling the coarse touch of fur on fur bring her back to the moment. One hoof after the other. That meant starting by opening the door.

Finally, she let the breath go, gave the heavy wooden door a hearty shove, and eased her way in to the small office, mindful to not catch her horns on the low ceiling. The room was lit only by a single dim desk lamp and the glow of a computer monitor, and was filled with the comforting scents of varnish and old paper. Every wall was crammed with old photos and framed calligraphy, and every surface was several inches deep with chaotic piles of pages, fluttering quietly when the small desk fan turned to face them. Behind the desk was Dr. Marsh herself, a brownish fox with broad features and gray creeping in around her muzzle. She had been intently reading something on her computer, but looked up as she heard the door creak.

"Ah, Vivienne. Welcome." Dr. Marsh said with a gentle smile, adjusting her thin glasses as Vivienne lowered herself into plush armchair opposite the professor and smoothed her dress. "How are you doing tonight?"

"Fine, professor." Vivienne responded simply. "And yourself?"

"A fair bit tired - but feeling a lot better with finals all graded!" Dr. Marsh replied with a small laugh. "Freedom!"

The room fell into silence, as Dr. Marsh studied Vivienne, as serious and intent as she was puzzling over ancient Draconic logograms. Without breaking concentration, she picked up her mug of tea from the desk and took a slow sip of it.

Vivienne picked at her beard anxiously. Finally, she asked, "Why did you call me here, professor?"

Dr. Marsh shook her head, and coughed, the intensity draining from her expression. "My apologies, my friend. Of course. Why I called you here." She tapped her claws anxiously against her keyboard. "I've had something of an ... extra credit opportunity come up. Have you heard about the Extraplanetary Explorers?"

"Who hasn't? The news coverage of them has been quite extensive." Vivienne answered cautiously.

"Well, they've stumbled across something quite interesting up there on the moon. A regular treasure trove of Draconic texts, just waiting to be studied."

"Oh! That's very exciting!"

"I know. So much new text to work with ..." Dr. Marsh trailed off, a hungry look in her eyes.

"Have you started to work with them yet?" Vivienne inquired.

"I've got a few photos ..." Dr. Marsh carefully picked through a pile, "somewhere ... around ... here - ah!"

She held up set of three black-and-white photos triumphantly, then laid them on the desk in front of Vivienne. They did indeed show what appeared to be Draconic text of some sort - one a book, with a page opened to show rows and rows of familar runes with hard lines and sharp corners, and the other two appearing to depict signs with similar runes carved into silvery walls.

"That's wonderful!" Vivienne said. "... are you asking for my help translating them?"

"Sort of." Dr. Marsh replied. "You see, these writings are found on board some kind of wrecked vessel. The Explorers are looking for a full team to investigate the craft and see what can be determined about it. The thing they already know - it was still hot and oxygenated when they found it. So that means ..."

"There are still living creatures operating in Draconic?"

"Probably." Dr. Marsh said.

"Hold on ... you said they were looking for a 'full team'? On the ground?" Vivienne asked, with some trepidation.

"Yes. I volunteered as linguist myself, of course, but they seem to have little faith that I'm 'fit for space travel'."

"Hah!" Vivienne took a moment to imagine her tough old professor grimly staring ahead while strapped into some flight simulator. "They don't know who they're talking to, then."

Dr. Marsh shook her head sadly. "They're probably right, unfortunately. These old bones probably can't survive a rocket ride. But, they clarified they were asking for a recomendation of a student of mine, and that the deadline for training starting was tomorrow night. Of course, I immediately contacted you." She slipped a manila folder out from the bottom of a dangerously teetering pile and spread it open on the desk before Vivienne.

Vivienne glanced at the mission summary lying on top, then pulled back. "No, sorry. I don't do teams."

"I urge you to reconsider." Dr. Marsh began, "This mission is an extraordinary opportunity ..."

"That I can work with here, away from anyone else." Vivienne said firmly.

"Viv." her teacher said, fixing her with an intense gaze usually reserved for stubborn equipment. "You are my most dedicated student ... ever. You've got an incredible talent for language, have put up with the grueling hours of schooling with narry a complaint, and solved questions that have been sitting on my desk for over thirty years. You can handle a few other morons following you around while you work."

The hum of the fan echoed in a few breaths of silence. Vivienne looked down at her hooves as she curled them up next to her on the chair, and Dr. Marsh continued to stare intently at her. Finally, Vivienne let out a long breath. "I can't. I just can't."

"It's a very promising career opportunity ..."

"I don't care."

"You're not going to make it far in the working world if you can't deal with others."

"I'll figure something out."

It was Dr. Marsh's turn to sigh, leaning back in her chair while fidgeting with a pen in her paws. "Viv, I'm worried about you. You can't make it in this world alone. I'm a girl who likes her quiet time, sure, but I've still got friends. Peers, I mean, not superiors or old ladies three times your age. Someone you can go to in tears, and who will help pick you up, or at least give you a shoulder to cry on. Do you have anyone like that?"

"I don't cry." Vivienne's voice was hard, her rectangular pupils fixed somewhere in the night beyond the window.

"Viv, please." Dr. Marsh said. "Everyone cries when they lose a parent. Even if they hated them - which seems to be far from your case."

Vivienne looked like she'd been punched. Catching her surprise, Dr. Marsh continued, "Don't think I didn't notice when you suddenly clammed up halfway through last year, and that I didn't do some asking around to figure out what was going on. I'm no psychiatrist, so I didn't try and step in, but I am now. You need support; just like everyone does. You need to be open, at least sometimes, and try and make some friends."

Vivienne was silent and still, curled in the chair. Inside her head, she was furiously building a dam to prevent her boiling, messy emotions spilling out as floodwaters rose in her eyes and blurred her vision.

"I'm fine." she choked out, then abruptly stood and turned so Dr. Marsh couldn't see her face.

Behind her, the old fox took off her glasses and rubbed her forehead with one dark-furred hand. "Fine. If you won't do it for yourself, do it for me. A final favor for an old woman, who cares about you and who thinks you care about her. Before you leave me behind forever, on whatever crazy journey you craft for yourself, do this one thing. Just a few months. Please."

Vivienne put her snout in her hands, and her shoulders shook. She did care so much about this woman. Her class had been fascinating and fun in a time when her world seemed to lack any form of light. The small kindnesses the professor had shown had kept her going until she found her feet again. She owed it to her to try. But, it just sounded so hard ...

After a long, long moment, Vivienne slowly dragged her snout back up then turned back to her professor, eyes red and cheek-fur damp.

"Fine." she said, her voice wet and small, like a puppy lost on a rainy night. "I'll do it."

Dr. Marsh gave a long sigh of relief, and collapsed forward onto her desk, hands clasped above her head. "Thank you."

Vivienne picked up the folder, and read the summary again. "It says I have a day, so I'll look into transit to the Packlands ... tomorrow. For now, good night, professor."

"Good night, dear."

Dr. Marsh did not look up as she felt the breeze of the door swinging closed. Instead, as the tension faded out of her body, she said a silent prayer to the Pack Lord and shifted into the first deep sleep she'd had in months.