Then she reached over to the nightstand and pulled back an object. It was one of the heavy steel manacles he wore. She looked at it, studying the deep scratches and pits on it, where he had used them like shields to parry weapons. "For some reason," she finally said, "I think these sum up everything there is about you, cub."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you've been abused," she said bluntly. "I've taken the time while you were asleep to have Dolanna tell me about you. Between what I've heard and what I've felt myself, I'm shocked that you're still sane."

"Felt?"

"I have your bond, cub," she said bluntly. "I took it from Jesmind when I decided to come get you. It lets me know it when you're in pain, and it lets me feel it when you experience powerful emotion. It's the only reason I gave you another chance. If I hadn't had an idea of what you were feeling, I'd have killed you in Dayise." She lowered the manacle and stared at him. "What you are now makes alot more sense now that I know how you got here. If I'd have known, I'd have approached you differently in Den Gauche."

He had no idea what to say to that. He just stared at her uncertainly, a paw delicately over the wound in his chest.

"But that's water under the bridge now," she said. "This," she started, holding the manacle up again, "is what they made of you. It's not what you were meant to be."

"I don't understand."

"Probably not," she agreed. "All that you really need to understand is that I know what's happened to you. I'm not very happy about it," she said with a low growl. "But it's time to start working on the future." She tossed the manacle back onto the nightstand absently. He didn't see it land, but he heard it clink a couple of times as it bounced to a stop. " Fae-da'Nar is an ancient society, cub," she began in a resonant voice, putting her chin on her clasped paws and staring at him as she spoke. "It goes back thousands of years. We've survived this long so close to the humans because we have laws. Those are the laws that you have to learn, and what's more important, they're laws that you have to obey. There's no room for breaking these laws. If you break them once, you are warned. If you break them twice, you are dead. Because of what you've already done, there will be no warnings," she said ominously. "If you show any sign that you're not capable of adhering to our law, they will kill you without hesitation. And there's nothing I can do about it. The laws we have protect all of us, and if sacrificing you keeps the rest of us alive, then so be it.

"I'm going to teach you two things, cub," she continued. "The laws of Fae-da'Nar, and the customs of the other woodland races, what some of us call Woodkin. The laws you will learn today. The customs will take much longer. But in their own way, the customs I'm going to teach you are much more important than the laws. We all obey the laws, but you'll find that those laws don't protect us from one another. They only deal with keeping our kind from ending up on the ends of human pitchforks. If you anger too many other Woodkin, they'll come after you, and you'll have to fend them off by yourself. So it's very important that you understand the customs of the others, so you don't offend them too much." She snorted. "They accuse us of being short-tempered, but you've never seen a Centaur when you come into his range unannounced. They're the ones you have to be the most careful around, cub. Centaurs can't stand Were-cats, and they're more than willing to try to kill us over even the most minor or accidental insult."

She scratched her neck absently, then leaned on her paws again. "You're entering a much different society, cub, one that you're probably not going to like," she warned. "The rest of Fae-da'Nar doesn't like us. Some, like the Centaurs, at least have the guts to be open about it. You're going to face slights and insults, scorn and aggravation. But in the interests of Woodkin harmony, I suggest you let them pass. Especially you. You're a wild card, cub, ferocious, unpredictable, and very feral. Some of the Woodkin object to my taking you in. They'd rather have you killed. And I suppose if what happened at Den Gauche was pinned on you, I'd be doing it. But since nobody knows what really happened but us, I'm willing to let that slide."

"Why do you put up with it?"

"I don't," she said flatly. "I'm too old to be talked down to. You, on the other hand, had better be ready to either take it, or show them that you're not about to take it. How you decide to handle it is up to you." She gave him a slight smile. "I know you, cub. You'll cram the first insult you hear down the throat of whoever said it. I won't object if you do, but understand that that's how you make enemies. If you don't mind enemies, then be my guest. You'll be a grown cub after I release you, mature enough to make your own decisions.

"Now then, these are the four rules that we all live by, cub," she said seriously.

"Four? That's all?"

"That's all," she said with a smile.

"Why didn't Jesmind just tell them to me so this would never have happened?"

"Just knowing them isn't enough, cub. You have to be accepted into Fae-da'Nar. That's what takes time. They prefer to watch and observe over a long period of time, so they're sure of the hopeful's stability. Especially when it comes to turned Were-kin. For those born into it, it's generally an automatic thing, coming about on the official age of adulthood. But special cases, like you, require careful observation before they consent. But we're drifting off the point here, cub, so listen up.

"The First Law is the most important. Simply put, we never give the humans reason to fear us. That means we don't go on rampages, we don't kill unless in self defense or defense of life, we don't terrorize villages and steal children, and we don't brutalize people. It's a broad law, but it sums up the very essence of our objective. And that objective is to co-exist with the humans peacefully. They live in their cities, we live in what they call the Frontier, and everyone's happy. But when we do come out, it's important that we leave a good impression, when they know what they're dealing with at all. Since you're from Aldreth, you probably have an understanding of what that means."

Tarrin nodded. Sometimes, people would just walk out of the Frontier, and they would trade with the villagers for supplies. They were always quiet, polite, and they bargained fairly. They never made trouble. Because of that, the village welcomed them despite the fact that they were so mysterious. Villagers always whispered about them after they left, and there were a few wild stories that always circulated, but on the whole, those mysterious strangers were well received. Tarrin had tried to follow them several times as they disappeared back into the Frontier, which was against village law, but he could never stay on their trails for more than a couple of longspans.

Triana chuckled. "Some of them remember you, cub," she winked. "From what I understand, you used to try to follow them back into the forest after they left Aldreth. They would watch you and see what you did."

Tarrin was a bit startled that she would know that. "Well, I guess I used to do that," he admitted. "I was just curious. I was only a kid."

"They knew that. I think that's what made them watch you." She leaned forward a bit more. "I heard that you used to wander around the Frontier by yourself too. That's pretty brave for a kid. They used to watch you then, too, and make sure you didn't wander into trouble. I think that may be the only reason some of them aren't pushing me to kill you as much as others. I think they're the ones that have been to Aldreth, and may remember you and the Kaels. Since your farm was in Frontier land, they would watch you from time to time. Parents would bring cubs there so they could observe humans in their natural surroundings."