"Exactly," he told her, sitting down. "Every little thing a cat does will make perfect sense to you, and you'll find that your instincts are much stronger in cat form. You'll do the very same things cats do, and it will seem completely right and proper. Grooming yourself is a good example. Eating what you catch is another."

"You're, you're right," she said. "I do have the impulse to groom. And it doesn't seem wrong."

"The longer you stay in cat form, the stronger the instincts become," he told her. "Over time, you'll even start thinking like a cat, but the cat will never completely overwhelm your rational mind. You may have trouble remembering things, or keep track of time, or have a little problem shapeshifting back, but that's only if you've been in cat form for a very long time. Months."

"How do I change back? Just do the same thing?"

He nodded. "Just will it, and you'll change back. Go ahead. Then change back and forth a few times until you get the hang of it." He sat on the bed sedately while she practiced, changing form many times. Each time, he felt that it required less effort for her. Just like him, she adapted quickly to the natural ability, mainly because it was something she instinctively knew how to do.

"I wondered why you leaned down before you shapechanged," she told him after returning to her humanoid form. "You make it look natural, falling down into your cat form. There's quite an art to the transition, isn't there?"

"The body changes. The position doesn't," he told her. "You'll get the hang of it. Moving from a vertical base to a horizontal one isn't that hard. You just have to set yourself up for it."

"I noticed," she agreed.

"Come with me," he said, opening the door before going back to cat form. "Just feeling yourself in that body isn't enough. You need to get a feel for how it works. So we're going to go hunting."

"What is there to hunt here?"

"You'd be surprised where mice and rats can hide," he told her. "I'd rather get some squirrel, but there aren't any around here. Squirrel is my favorite."

"You eat them?" she protested.

"Change back, and you'll understand completely," he told her as he sat down.

She hunkered down and flowed into her cat form, and she sat sedately. "You're… right.," she said slowly. "Why was I objecting to it in the first place?"

"Precisely," he told her. "Assigning human ideals to your new life isn't going to work, Jula. To beat the madness, you have to embrace the change. You're not a human anymore."

"It's not easy."

"That's why there are only three Changelings," he said succinctly. "You, me, and Kimmie. Nobody else managed to conquer the madness."

"You know how to fill a girl with confidence."

"I never said it would be easy. I just said you could do it," he told her, standing up. "Nothing easy is worthwhile. Now come on. I'll teach you how to hunt. It's time to earn our keep by chasing off the mice. And get a meal in the bargain."

"I wonder how mouse tastes," Jula mused as the pair of them bounded out the door, heading for the kitchen.

The afternoon and a good deal of the evening was spent educating Jula on the arts of hunting, cat style. She picked it up quickly, and he had to admit, she had a knack for it. She caught her first mouse quickly after learning the basics of it from watching Tarrin. She was very good at driving the mouse in the direction she wanted it to go, trapping it in a dead end, where it was an easy target. After retrieving their clothes, the rest of the night was spent teaching Jula about the laws of Fae-da'Nar. The laws were easy. The customs weren't. Sarraya sat in on them while he taught her, saying nothing, observing things. He had a feeling she wanted to see how well he remembered what was taught to him, or how well he could teach her. Jula was every bit as smart as he remembered, and she listened intently to his every word. Again, he realized that she was being very serious about her instruction. She didn't want to go mad again, and it showed in the determination she showed in her lessons, and it explained why she was so fanatically loyal to him. She knew that he was her only chance, so she clung to it, clung to him, like a sailor clinging to a rope in a storm.

It was a double-edged sword. Her determination may hurt her when it came time for her to surrender some ground to her instincts. He worried a bit as he taught her that she may try to resist them, and if she did, she would simply be starting down the path to madness again.

Sarraya yawned. Tarrin had brought Jula to one of the larger bedrooms, one with a vanity and armoire, and Sarraya was sitting on the edge of the vanity as Tarrin and Jula sat on the bed facing one another. It was going to be their room. He was serious about not letting her out of his sight. They were going to sleep in that room, Jula in the bed, Tarrin in cat form at the foot of it. He was usually more comfortable sleeping in cat form anyway. He often went to sleep in humanoid form, only to find himself in cat form when he awoke. It wasn't supposed to be possible to shapeshift in one's sleep, but either he was doing it, or he was waking up, shapeshifting, and then forgetting in the dull state of mind that came with being half-awake. "I think we can wrap this up, Tarrin," she told him, flitting into the air and landing on the bed between them. "It's nearly midnight. Everyone else is in bed."

"We're not everyone else," he told her calmly.

"Well, I'm getting sleepy," she protested.

"Then go to sleep."

"I can't," she snorted. " Fae-da'Nar won't accept her if you teach her. When it comes to it, I'll tell them that I was observing. That, they'll accept. So I have to be here whenever you teach her."

"You weren't here before."

"You were teaching her basics before," she countered. "You don't need me to teach instinctual knowledge, Tarrin. Now you're getting into those things that I do need to be here to observe."

"Just who are you in this organization?" Jula asked her.

"I'm a Druid," she replied. "Consider me to be management. Your life hinges on whether or not I think you're fit to be part of our society, cub, so you'd better be nice to me."

"Sarraya!" Tarrin snapped. "That's uncalled for."

"He was never nice to me," she sniffed, pointing at Tarrin. "I wonder why I even bothered to accept him."

"Well, like father, like daughter," Jula said with a flinty look, then she graced Sarraya with a glorious smile and laughed. "Almost. I can't quite get the hang of that looming trick."

"You're not tall enough," he said dryly. "I hate to say this, Jula, but you're short."

"I've always been short," she said dismissively. "At least now I'm short only in comparison to my own kind. It's strangely satisfying to be taller than most human men."

"You'll grow as you age," Tarrin told her. "We never stop growing, but it's very slow. Triana, my bond-mother, is a head taller than me."

"Let's stop talking about height," Sarraya said. "As you can see, I'm not equipped to talk about that."

Tarrin stared calmly at her, but Jula laughed. "Well, you could always loom over a grasshopper," she teased.

"Maybe I'll shrink you down to my size," Sarraya threatened, wiggling her tiny fingers at Jula.

"Children," Tarrin said calmly. "If you're tired, we'll stop. I guess you are, Sarraya's getting cranky."

Sarraya stomped her foot on the bed and glared at him.

"I take it this is my room?" Jula asked.

"Our room," he corrected. "I told you before, you don't get out of my sight, cub."

"How are we going to share the bed?"

"Easy. You sleep in the bed, I sleep at the foot of it. Just don't kick me."

"How-oh, nevermind. I forgot about that. Is it that comfortable?"

"I prefer it," he replied. "Besides, as tall as we are, our feet usually hang off the end of the bed."