"Not at all. You're a bond -child, cub. That's not a literal relationship. In other Were kinds, bond-children often become the mates of their bond-parent. But it is customary for the bond-parent to wait until the child is accepted into Fae-da'Nar until they take them for mate, so in that way, Jesmind was wrong to take you for mate so quickly." She grunted. "It's really a moot point. There aren't enough turned Were-cats for it to matter."

"Just me and Kimmie, right?"

"Alive," she elaborated. "There have been others, but the human mind can't seem to cope with the instincts. Out of a hundred or so who have been bitten, only you and Kimmie managed to survive with your sanity. That's why we absolutely forbid biting people."

"It's also why you didn't just bite people to increase your numbers," he said insightfully.

"That's clever, cub," she commended. "We wouldn't do it anyway. Biting someone and turning them against their will is a serious violation of our laws. I taught you that."

"Yes, but wouldn't they suspend it since there are so few of us?"

"They don't want any more of us, cub," she said pointedly. "I think Fae-da'Nar would be tickled pink if we all just dropped dead. It would be a serious load off their minds."

"Then why do you stay with them? Why don't the Were-cats just abandon Fae-da'Nar?"

"Because they'd declare us Rogue, and then come and kill us," she replied bluntly.

Thean returned with two more Were-cats. The female, Shayle, was tall and willowy, with narrow hips and a marked flat-chestedness that was unusual for the rather buxom breed. She was still very pretty, rather more cute than pretty, with cherubic cheeks, bright green eyes, and sensual lips that were curled up into a light smile. She wore a simple pair of tanned leather leggings and a tight-fitting buckskin vest that left her midriff bare. Her hair was the same tawny color as her mother's, but her fur was a tabbycat's orange with darker stripes. The other male was thin and about half a head shorter than him, with features that clearly related him to Triana. But his hair was black, his fur a dark brown with dark stripes, and his eyes were small and set close together. He wore a black doublet over a linen shirt, and matching black breeches.

"Good, you're here," Triana said. "Shayle, Laren, this is Tarrin. Tarrin, Shayle and Laren."

"It's good to meet you," Shayle said in a bright voice, coming in and reaching out for him. He offered his paws the same way he saw Triana offer them to Thean, and she took them and held them for a moment. "You have Mist's scent all over you," she remarked.

"Shayle's got a nose on her," Triana remarked to him.

"Well, yes," he said self-consciously.

"Good," she winked. "It's about time she came down off her mountain. Where does the line form?"

"Shayle!" Triana snapped.

"Well sorry," she snorted, letting go of his paws.

Tarrin was a bit startled. Getting that from Rahnee was one thing, but getting it from a sister was something very, very different.

"Laren," Triana prompted.

The male stepped forward slightly, and gave him only the most cursory of glances. "Hi, or something," he said distractedly. His posture and scent were hostile, and something about that caused Tarrin to react in a similar manner. He drew up to his full height and stared down at the smaller Were-cat with a flat look, daring him to say that the same way again. Tarrin's display made Laren's eyes go flat, but he didn't attempt to challenge him in either height or posturing. He simply backed off.

And got a slap to the back of his head. "You don't speak to one of the family in that way, boy," she said heatedly. "Not your sisters, not me, and not my bond-child. Apologize."

"Sorry," he snorted.

Triana cuffed him. "Say it with feeling," she growled.

"I'm not-"

"You won't live to finish that if you try, boy," Triana snapped, showing him a paw full of wickedly long claws. "You may like playing at this attitude game, but you'll lose it when you're around me, do you understand me?"

"Yes mother," he said in a quiet tone, but his eyes were flaring with anger.

"Now apologize," she said furiously.

"I'm sorry," he said in a voice that was hardly sincere.

"Get out," Triana said ominously, pointing towards the door.

"Whatever you say, mother," he said to her flippantly, then left the room.

"And that was my son," she sighed after he was gone.

"That was entertaining," Thean said in a relieved tone. "I was getting ready to pull them apart."

"You should just let Tarrin thrash him, mother," Shayle said. "I don't doubt that he could," she said, looking at him in a way that made him feel very uncomfortable.

"Why did he do that?" Tarrin asked.

"I really don't know," Triana said. "He's been like that for a few decades now. Nobody knows why."

"I need to go get something to eat, mother," Shayle said. "I'm starving. Be right back."

"Alright," Triana said as Shayle and Thean left.

Tarrin's ears twitched. "She-"

"Save it, cub," Triana said. "She's not your sister. She's my daughter. The two of you aren't related at all, so she can chase you all she wants."

"But you're my bond-mother."

"That's right. I'm your bond -mother. You're not related to my other children any way except through me. To my daughters, you're fair game."

"Oh. It still feels weird."

"Get used to it," she said. "You already know how Jesmind feels about you, and Shayle and Nikki have similar tastes in males. I think they get that from me," she said absently.

"If I'm not related, then why call me family?"

"You're making this harder than it needs to be, cub," she said flatly. "You're my bond-child, but you're not related to any of my other children. You're really not related to me either. If I wanted you, I could take you for mate myself. But I don't think of you like that. To me, you are one of my children. Just not related to the others."

"If you say so," he drawled.

"I do. Now let's go downstairs and get some dinner," she said, smacking him on the backside lightly.

The meal was both easy and tense. It was easy in that Shayle and Laren were Triana's children, and she took the time to catch up with them. It was tense in Tarrin's presence. All he could do was stare at Laren and narrow his eyes, and he had no idea why he didn't like the smaller Were-cat. He knew it was impulsive, instinctual, but he still couldn't control it. After the meal, Triana gave him one quick look, then turned to Thean. "Thean, I think Tarrin needs some real exercise," she prompted. "Why don't you take him for a short walk?"

"I think that's a good idea, Triana," Thean replied smoothly. "You feel up to it, cub?"

"I guess so," he replied to the older male.

"Come on then," he said, standing up. "We'll walk down to the river."

It had been the first time he'd been outside in a long time. It seemed a lifetime. The city smelled as most cities did, a foul combination of the worst smells of human and animal, mixed in with the smell of decay, with just a hint of excrement. But he'd grown used to that miasma, and found it easy to ignore as the two males walked slowly and easily along a wide avenue that sloped gently down towards the river. The other citizens gave the pair strange looks, but they probably mistook them for Wikuni, for look was all they did. The people of Shoran's Fork dressed much differently than they did in Sulasia. Men and women both tended to wear robes, some more elaborate or expensive than others, which was probably some kind of indication of wealth or rank. Arkisians were dusky skinned and tended to have black or dark hair, but that hair was kept exceptionally clean and neat, and it was often greased or oiled to make it shine in the afternoon sun. Women wore their hair long, men wore theirs short, but most of the men he saw had strange narrow goatees with no moustaches. Looking at the oiled, pointed facial adornments made him rub absently at his own chin.