It sounded bizarre to hear her talk about humans like animals. But then again, Fae-da'Nar probably did see humans as the inhabitants of that other wilderness.

"Anyway, the Second Law is also simple and to the point. We don't interfere in human society. Some of us live in human lands, but they don't meddle. They just live there. We don't take positions of importance, we don't get involved in human politics, and we don't draw attention to ourselves. Think of Haley. He lives in Dayise. Alot of people know him, but to them, he's just an innkeeper. He keeps to himself, doesn't meddle with city politics, and he keeps what he is a secret. Because of that, they accept him, even though they don't know what he is.

"The Third Law deals with what we call the Shunned Races. Those are Woodkin and magical races, what some call 'monsters', who prey on humankind. Who don't follow the laws of Fae-da'Nar. Simply put, we oppose them, but we don't actively hunt them down. If they start preying on humans, we put a stop to it, because it damages our reputation. But until they do that, we leave them alone."

"Then why would they hunt me down?" he asked quietly. "I'd be Shunned if I didn't accept Fae-da'Nar."

"No. If you were a Lamia or a Vampire, then you'd be Shunned. But you're a Were-cat, and Were-cats are part of Fae-da'Nar. If you are not part of Fae-da'Nar and you're one of the races that obey our laws, that makes you a Rogue. There's a difference."

"Oh."

"Nice try anyway," she grinned. "The Fourth Law states that we obey the Druids. In our society, Druids are something like the nobility, though they never abuse their position. Druids keep us in communication with one another, they are our healers, our protectors, and our pillars of support. They are the ones we turn to when we need help, and they are the ones that all of Fae-da'Nar will trust explicitely. An extension of that law is that a Druid's chosen ground is holy, and the law of peace is paramount. That means that even though the Woodkin do occasionally fight amongst themselves, nobody fights on a Druid's chosen ground."

"What is chosen ground?"

"Where the Druid lives," she answered. "His home. Since all types of Woodkin will visit a Druid, even enemies, that law exists to prevent fighting on the Druid's front doorstep. It's also the main reason you're going to learn the customs all of your cousins. We use those customs when we encounter each other on Druid's ground."

"Oh. So they have to obey you? You're a Druid."

"They obey me, but it's not because I'm a Druid," she said with a wink. "Non-human Druids don't count, because some of us have Druidic talent. Out here, I'm not a Druid, I'm a Were-cat. But on my home range, it's another story. When I'm on my chosen ground, then the law of peace is still in effect. Because I'm a Druid on chosen ground."

"I guess that makes sense."

"I'm so glad you understand it. Anyway, that's it. That's the law we live by. It may sound simple, but once you get some exposure to our society, you'll understand that they were kept simple to deal with a very wide range of different races. If they got complicated, they wouldn't work. The rest of what I'll teach you is custom and practice," she said. "How to know when you're in someone else's territory, the marks and symbols we use out in the forest, the customs and society of the other Woodkin races. Things like that. You can get by just by knowing the law, but you can't function if you know what's going on. But that can wait for later," she said with a slight smile. "Right now, you need some food. Real food this time. I think you're ready for something solid. I had the innkeeper track down some veal. It should be soft enough for you to manage, and easy enough on your system to keep you from getting sick."

The idea of solid food did make his mouth water, but on the other hand, the broth she'd been giving him itself wasn't all that bad, and it had been filling him up. He would enjoy some meat, but the broth hadn't been a disappointment.

"Allia's relieving Faalken at the door, so I'll send in Dar to keep you company," she said. "I have to talk to Rahnee."

"Are you still going to punish the Wikuni?"

"Going to? I've already started," she said harshly, standing up. "Shirazi and Singer got here while you were asleep. I'll introduce you to them when they come back. Shirazi is perfect for something like this. The woman thinks of nothing other than the hunt. She'll hunt down anyone even remotely connected to the attack on you, and then punish them for it." She set the chair against the wall with quick and precise movements. "Mist should be here soon too. She's someone I definitely want you to meet."

"Why?"

She looked right at him, giving him that stare. "Because she is what you might become," she said seriously. "You're feral, cub. All of us are a little feral, it's part of what makes us what we are, but you're very feral. Mist… well, Mist is truly feral. I want you to see what being truly feral means. I want you to see it, and decide if that's how you want to live the rest of your life."

The way she said it worried him. He didn't respond, mainly because he couldn't think of anything to say to her. She still intimidated him. It made him wonder at this Mist. He remembered Haley mention her, so she had to be rather notorious. Or infamous. In his own way, he did want to see her, to talk to her. He wanted to see if she was really as bad as they hinted, or if she was simply misunderstood.

"Now, you lay there and think about the laws. If you can't recite them back to me when I bring your dinner, you'll have to sit there and stare at it for an hour before I give it to you. I'll also have Dar come in and keep you company after you eat, so I can tend to business." She leaned over him, lowered down and kissed him lightly on the forehead. "I'll be back soon," she promised, giving him a warm smile.

"I'll be here," he said lightly. "Unless I decide to go dancing, that is."

Triana chuckled. "At least you're keeping your sense of humor," she noticed as she opened the door.

He got his chance to meet Mist that afternoon.

She even looked wild. She was rather short for a Were-cat, but her body was powerfully developed. Where the female Were-cats he'd seen were lithe and feminine in form, Mist had powerful muscle. Her shoulders had a definite wideness to them, and her body was more stocky than slender. But she had a feminine figure, with a rather busty chest and wide hips, though she was holding herself very stiffly. Her fur was jet black, like his, but her hair was also black. And for the first time, he saw a Were-cat with short hair. Mist's hair was wild and unkempt, like other Were-cat females, but it didn't extend much past her shoulders. It trailed down the back of every other Were-cat he'd seen, including himself. Her clothes added to her wild demeanor, an old shirt that had more holes in it than continuous material, missing its left sleeve and the collar torn, leaving her left shoulder and a good deal of her left breast bare, and a pair of leather leggings that showed more skin than leather. But it wasn't her shape, or form, or appearance that made her look so untamed. It was her face.

She was very attractive, he decided. A wide-cheeked face with a strong, slightly squared jaw, but a very tight expression marred her appearance somewhat. More handsome than beautiful, but still attractive. It was her eyes. They were Were-cat eyes, green with vertically slitted pupils, but inside them was a frightening animalistic quality. When she looked at someone, it was like she was looking at a mouse. Her eyes were fierce, they were powerful, and they seemed to define her entire being.

His first real understanding of her came when she entered the room with Triana. Dar and Allia were with him, playing King's Crown, but that didn't last long. She looked at the pair, and she growled at them. Everything in her stance screamed her wariness, almost her fear, of the pair. She absolutely would not tolerate them being in her presence. Her eyes ignited from within with that greenish aura that marked an angry Were-cat, and it only took one look from Triana to have both of them quickly and quietly leave the room. Tarrin didn't trust strangers. Mist couldn't stand them. Triana put a paw on Mist's shoulder, and the wild Were-cat shuddered at it visibly. But when she looked back, that reflexive aversion to the touch abated, and she settled beneath Triana's palm.