"What do you mean?"

"Well, everyone her age but her has children," she said as she used her tail to open the door to his room. "She's always felt alienated from the rest of us, hasn't felt like she belongs, because all her life, all she's wanted was to have one child of her own. The others treating her like she's a cripple didn't help," she grunted as she laid him down in his bed. "That's why she took Kimmie as a bond-child. Kimmie helped fill a void in her, but it wasn't enough. I told you before that Kimmie was the only reason that Mist isn't as bad off as she used to be. Now you understand why."

"Do you think Mist is going to be alright?"

"I think she will," she answered with a warm smile. "She's already feral, cub. She'll never be anything but that. But I think now she won't be quite so feral. With luck, a child of her own will mellow her out a bit. Maybe even enough to trust her own kind."

"I hope so. I just want her to be happy. I know how it feels to lose a part of your life, and never have anything be the same again."

Triana looked into his eyes, her gaze unwavering. "I guess you do at that, cub," she agreed as she pulled the blankets up for him. "I guess you do." She leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. "Now get some rest, and no more unannounced stunts like that. You'll make me old before my time."

"Yes, mother," he said with a weary smile.

"You," she smiled, tapping him on the nose with the tip of a finger, "are as much a pain in my butt as Jesmind ever was."

"But you love me anyway, don't you, mother?" he challenged in a tired voice, but he managed to smile.

"Gods help me, yes," she laughed. "I wonder which god I offended to have them keep throwing children like you in my lap."

"Maybe it's because you're the only one that can handle us," he said in a voice that took on a listless quality. The warm bed was working its magic on him, and he was drifting very close to the edge of sleep. "And I love you too."

And that carried him down into the unknowing realm of exhausted slumber.

Triana stared down at him for a moment, then she tucked the covers around him a bit more, with an utmost tenderness and awareness of the wound in his chest. Then she patted him on the back of his paw and left him to sleep.

Tarrin eased up out of a restful sleep slowly, becoming gradually cognizant of what was surrounding him. Triana and Dolanna were in the room with him. He could scent Dolanna right on top of him, and Triana was somewhere very close. He could hear her paws on the carpet; she was pacing. Triana tended to do that, as if sitting quietly was an impossible task for her. She seemed to almost always be moving.

"It is not unusual," Dolanna's voice reached him in his semi-conscious snooze. "I have seen him handle a child with the most exquisite tenderness one moment, and then turn and kill with a savagery that surprises me the next."

"That's normal," Triana replied. "We're an impulsive breed, Sorceress. We act on our emotions, usually before we consider the consequences. It's part of what makes us what we are. Were-cats like Tarrin and Mist tend to be more violent than the rest of us because they're feral, but they have that same general trait." Her voice grew stronger, probably because she turned to face his ears. "Tarrin's feral, but he still has a big heart. That causes his some problems, especially when he reacts positively towards someone that his instincts tells him to fear. Mist, on the other hand, has no such compulsion. She's utterly feral. But not for much longer, I hope."

"I thought that it was a condition that could not be changed."

"The condition, no. The severety of it, yes. There are degrees of ferality, Dolanna. Tarrin is what you may call a moderate case. Most of us are mildly feral. Mist is the extreme. Once you cross the line and go feral, you can't come back, but how you react in a situation can change. Tarrin can tolerate strangers, even talk to them when he has to. Mist absolutely will not tolerate them. Tarrin has the capability to add new members to his list of people he'll trust. If someone were to go out of their way and prove beyond any shadow of a doubt that they're worth his trust, he'll accept them. Mist won't. She'd probably kill anyone who tried, thinking that they were just trying to get close to her and hurt her when she lets her guard down."

"That's paranoia, Triana."

"That's part of being feral," she replied immediately. "When you're feral, there's only them and us. In Mist's case, there's only her and everyone else."

"But she trusts you."

"She tolerates me, the same way Tarrin can tolerate strangers," Triana said concisely. "She bows to my power, nothing more. It's submission to a greater strength, Dolanna. She does what I say because I can thrash her, and she knows it. But she doesn't trust me. The only reason she stayed was because I forced her to."

"Then why did she come?"

"Kimmie browbeat her into it," Triana answered. "Kimmie is the only one Mist comes close to trusting, and she doesn't even entirely trust even her. To put it in human terms, Kimmie is a good acquaintance. Not a child, not family, not even a friend. Just someone she can talk to. Kimmie faces death every time she speaks to Mist, because she knows that one bad word can set her off, and Mist wouldn't have any qualms about killing Kimmie. That's something that most of the others don't really appreciate as much as I do. Kimmie is the only one that can get away with deflecting Mist's anger. I can't even do it. I have to rely on my strength, and physically intimidate Mist into submission. Kimmie does it with careful words."

"I can do the same to Tarrin, as can his sisters," Dolanna said in a thoughtful tone. "He would injure, even kill, anyone else who dared speak to him from anything other than a position of submission. I never realized how primal his personality had become."

"Primal. That's a good enough term," Triana agreed. "It's all about strength, Dolanna. Tarrin is stronger than everyone else. Anyone who doesn't understand that and accept it, anyone who doesn't submit to his dominance, is obviously challenging him. He has to respond to that. His trust in you and those other two lets you treat him as a submittant or equal rather than as a dominant. He recognizes your authority, and he bows to it, because he sees in you a strength greater than his own. He thinks of those other two as family, so they can treat him as an equal." She paused. "Are you about finished listening to us talk about you, cub?" she asked in a blunt tone.

Tarrin opened his eyes in time to see her turn and face him. "I didn't think you'd make it a private converstaion when you're in my room," he replied.

"No," she said. "I wouldn't say anything about you that I wouldn't say to your face. How do you feel?"

"Pretty good, actually," he said with a slight yawn. "Just aching, but I think that's normal."

"More or less," she agreed. "Now that Dolanna here has a better understanding of why you do some of the things you do, we hope that she'll be able to manage you a little better when I let you go."

"I had drawn some incorrect conclusions," Dolanna admitted to him. "Your instincts and motivations are much more complex than I initially thought."

"We may have instincts, but we're not animals," Triana said bluntly. "Humans have instincts too, but they don't listen to them. More the pity for you."

"What time of day is it?" he asked, looking out the window. The sky was cloudy, just on the verge of rain, and the continuous gloom of the clouds hid where the sun was.

"Not far from sunset," Triana answered. "You've been asleep most of the day. And you'd better never do that again," she warned with an evil glare.

"I didn't mean to," he said meekly.

"I know. I'm going to have to do something about that," she announced.