He really didn't know. But he worried about them anyway. He knew he probably didn't have to do it, but he considered these strangers part of the village, since they were living on the old Kael farm.

He certainly hoped they left before Eron and Elke came back. Things would get ugly if Elke found squatters in her home. And he wasn't about to tell them that they were on someone else's land. He wouldn't do anything to make those two mad.

Her presence had upset the village for a while, but they had come to accept the woman's presence with an uneasiness. They forbade the village children from going there, which of course caused them all to just rush over and see for themselves. It had become something of a game of daring for them now, to see who would go furthest into the old farm's land, who would get the closest. From what he heard, Jale Strongoak had went so far as to go into the restored barn, before something spooked him and sent him running in panic.

This day was going to be different. He was carrying a plate of his wife's sweetrolls, and he had no intention of hiding today. It was time to face them, to meet the neighbors. His need to know had overridden his fear of this exotic neighbor, and he thought it was very unneighborly for them to treat the woman like a pariah. If she was brave enough to live on the old farm, then the villagers should be brave enough to take her in.

And so, Garyth Longhshank marched diligently up the old, weed-choked cart path, a plate of cooling sweetrolls in his hands and a resolute look on his face.

His resolve wavered a bit when he made the last turn and found himself facing the farm. It was as he remembered it, except that the months of neglect showed on the buildings that the new tenant didn't use. Instead of keeping up the second barn and the brewhouse, she was simply letting them fall down, but the house itself and the barn she did use were well maintained, clean, neat, and even painted. There were no chickens, no livestock to go with the small vegetable patch not far off from the front porch. That made things seem more out of place.

Swallowing, gathering his courage, Garyth walked into the field holding the farmstead and made his way to the house. He had been in there many times, and he was curious to see how the woman had changed it. He stepped up onto the porch, jumping slightly when the board creaked under him, gritting his teeth as if it would bring Death Herself down on his head. There was an immediate sound from inside, and before he could get to the door to knock, it swung open.

He was awestruck. To see her from a distance was nothing compared to looking up at her so closely! She was so tall! So very tall! And she was beautiful! She had the prettiest face, with strange green eyes that had vertically slitted pupils, like a cat, her expression one of sober interest. He stared up at her for a long moment, unable to speak, then he found his breath and exhaled sharply. "M-Madam," he said uncertainly. "My name is, uh, Garyth. Garyth Longshank. I'm the village mayor. May I speak with you?"

She was quiet a long moment, then she snorted. "I wondered when you'd muster the nerve to stop sneaking around like a rat," she told him in a powerful voice.

"Madam?"

"You've been crawling around here for a month now, human," she told him. "Watching me. I realized you weren't trying to mess with me. You were just watching. So I didn't do anything about you."

Garyth swallowed. He was rather sure he didn't want to know what do anything about you really meant. "Uh, yes, well," he chuckled nervously, "I certainly didn't realize you knew. I would have stopped if it bothered you. And I was just making sure everything was alright with you. As you know, you're living very close to us, and I've been worried for you. What, with all those Goblinoids that were here and all."

"That's very thoughtful. What are you carrying? Sweets? I smell honey and bread in there, and nuts."

"My wife Mara's sweetrolls," he offered, holding them out. "I know we're dreadfully overdue to welcome you to the village, but better late than never."

She looked down at him steadily for a long moment. "Come in," she said, stepping away from the door and turning around. He found his eyes locking on her posterior. Not because he admired her backside, but because of the sinuous, furry tail that sprouted from above it, what looked like a white snake writhing behind her, moving with her harmoniously as she walked.

She had done very little to the house, he saw. She had cleaned up the timber walls, and the hearth had been restoned, and she had very little furniture. All of it looked to be made by her, but it was solidly constructed and was very handsome. She could be quite a carpenter. The main room of the cottage held only a single wooden chair near the fireplace, a table with three chairs beneath it, a fourth chair, a high-chair for a baby, and a woven basket by that chair near the fireplace that held some kind of knitting or needlework. Sitting at the table, in the high chair, was what looked to be a toddler, a year old or so, a darling little girl with her mother's face, her mother's fur, and strawberry blond hair. She had the most precious green eyes, also like a cat's. The mother motioned for him to sit, which he did, setting the tray down before him.

"Mama?" she called curiously.

"My daughter, Jasana," she said brusquely, sitting at the table.

"My, what a lovely child," Garyth smiled at her, waving to her. "Her ears are adorable." He reached out to her as she reached out to him, reflexively.

"I wouldn't do that," the mother said calmly. "She'll rip off your fingers."

Garyth snatched his hand back so quickly it made the little girl blink in confusion. "Pardon me, madam, but what is your name?"

"Jesmind," she replied evenly.

"Jesmind. A lovely name, if a bit unusual. I've never heard its like."

"It's an old Torian name. It means 'jewel.' My mother gets exotic when she names her kids," she said dryly.

"Well, mothers tend to be like that," Garyth chuckled. "I know you know I'm curious, so I'll be to the point. Why have you come to Aldreth, mistress Jesmind? Surely living in the Frontier would be better for you. You are isolated here."

"She's why," Jesmind said, jerking her thumb at her daughter. "I wanted her to know where her father came from."

That made Garyth blink. "I, I don't know of any other Forest Folk that live in Aldreth, mistress Jesmind."

"Oh, you know her father, human," Jesmind said bluntly. "A boy named Tarrin."

Garyth gaped at her. "You mean-"

"Things are different for him now, human," she said calmly. "I'm a Were-cat. A Lycanthrope. I'm sure you've heard the myths."

He nodded dumbly.

"Well, some of them are true. Tarrin is a Were-cat now. I won't go into the details of how it happened. Truth be told, it was just a big huge accident. But him and me, we had what you may call a relationship. Jasana here is the result. I wanted her to know her father, to understand him, so I brought her here, so she could grow up where he grew up."

Garyth stared at her. She said it with such sincerity, with hidden emotion. This relationship must have been intense, for he could see that she held powerful feelings for the Kael boy. A Were-cat! Poor Tarrin! But then again, it explained the weird wording of the letters that Eron sent back to him, evasive and vague, only saying that Tarrin had had some serious personal problems, problems that required them to stay with him for a while.

No wonder!

"A strange tale, mistress Jesmind," he said compassionately. "I hope that you parted on good terms."

She sighed. "Good enough, I guess," she said. "We don't hate each other, if that's what you mean. He had things he had to do, and I realized I was pregnant, so I had to leave him to take care of his business. My kind don't marry, and the males have little to do with raising the young, human. It was probably for the best that things caused us to part when we did. We'd probably have killed each other. We're both rather stubborn," she said with a gentle smile.