"Tarrin, I'd like you to meet Mist. Mist, this is my new cub, Tarrin."

Her entire attitude shifted, like water pouring from a glass. Her stiff posture relaxed once Allia and Dar were out of the door, and the fierce look on her face softened considerably. But that look in her eyes did not fade away. Even Tarrin, one of her own kind, was still partially suspect. He realized with some surprise that Mist didn't really trust anyone. She tolerated him because he was her kind, the same way that he tolerated strangers. "Tarrin," she said in a contralto voice, a voice that was harsh and controlled. Tarrin looked over her shoulder, to Triana, and he saw that she was staring at him very deliberately. She knew that he had seen the truth in Mist, and she was watching his reaction to it.

His reaction was almost horrified. She mistrusted almost everyone. To her, being in the middle of the city was like being surrounded by potential enemies, and she could not bring herself to relax. She was very much like an animal, a caged animal that had been beaten once too often, and now shied away from everyone who approached it. Tarrin had felt alone from time to time before, but Mist was truly alone, because she could not bring herself to trust another. His heart went out for her. It must have been horrible to be so alone, even when surrounded by people who wanted to befriend her.

But he managed to keep his reaction to her out of his eyes, out of his scent. He gave her a steady, calm look, just a hint of a smile, as if she were no different than any other Were-cat. "It's nice to meet you, Mist," he said with warmth in his voice.

"I appreciate your help, Mist," Triana said behind her. "I know how hard it is for you to come into civilization."

"Thank Kimmie for that," she said brusquely to Triana. "I didn't want to come."

"All the same, I still appreciate it," she maintained. She opened the door again. "Kimmie!" she barked into the hallway.

After a few seconds, another Were-cat appeared, and this one was the most unusual of all. She was wearing a dress. A brown peasant dress of sturdy wool, with a white blouse under the bodice that extended linen sleeves down to hide everything but her paws. Kimmie was about half a head shorter than Tarrin, about halfway between Tarrin and Mist in height. She had brown hair and reddish fur with brown stripes in it. Tabby fur. She was rather pretty, in a youthful way, and she didn't look much more than seventeen. But what made Kimmie different from all the others was the fact that she had blue eyes. Those blue eyes looked at Tarrin, and she gave him a brilliant smile. The fangs marred it, reminded him that she wasn't human.

Was this why Rahnee thought she was an embarassment? Because she liked to wear dresses?

"Kimmie, this is Tarrin. Tarrin, this is Kimmie."

"Hi," she said sweetly from the doorway, in a Torian accent. "It's good to see you're alright. How do you feel?"

"I'm alright," he replied. "Triana says I'll be able to get out of bed soon."

"That's good." She looked at Mist. "Mist, Shirazi wants to talk to you. Probably about where to look next."

"Alright," Mist said in her tightly controlled voice. Then she walked out without another word. Kimmie just gave him another smile, then rushed off after her. Triana closed the door, then turned around and leaned against it, staring at him intently.

"Is Kimmie Mist's daughter?"

"She used to be," she replied. "Kimmie was turned, but nobody knows who did it to her. Mist accepted her as a bond-child. That was about a hundred years ago or so." That startled him. Kimmie barely looked like an adult, let alone be over a hundred years old. "Kimmie is the only one that Mist comes close to trusting, and that's not saying very much. She doesn't even completely trust her own bond-child."

"It's awful. What did that to her?"

"Humans," she replied. "She was attacked by a Were hunter in what's now the Free Duchy of Shara. He wounded her very badly, and the human villagers there tortured her after he left her for dead, because they thought she was a witch. She literally pulled herself out of a bonfire when they tried to burn her at the stake. It took her months to recover. We weren't sure if she was going to make it or not, and after she healed, she didn't speak to anyone. She didn't speak for over fifty years. To anyone. What little ground she's regained since then is due in large part to Kimmie."

Tarrin was shocked. How could people be so cruel? The ordeal had scarred the diminutive Were-cat, scarred her deeply. It was no wonder she was feral! But her plight made him recall his own trials, his own ordeals. He hadn't suffered something quite that severe, but looking back over what he had went through over the last months, he too couldn't be all that surprised that he too had turned hard. Had become feral.

And that was how he could be. Distrustful of absolutely everyone, even his own family. Living out his entire life in fear of others, to live isolated from the world by his own distrust. It was a horrifying thought.

Triana came over and sat down on the edge of the bed, taking his paw. "That's what could happen to you, my cub," she said in a gentle voice. "I know you've been through a great deal, but you can't let it consume you like it has Mist. You have to find a balance within yourself and cling to it. I don't expect you to just lose your feral nature. That would be silly of me. You've suffered too much to ever be able to let it go. I just don't want you to slip any further. As you just saw, you can sink deeper."

He looked at the door, his heart filled with compassion for the forlorn Were-cat. He had to do something to help her. It was horrible for her to live such a lonely life, and he couldn't stand the idea of leaving her be without at least trying.

"I'll go find Allia and Dar," she said. "I have to go make sure our kin are doing things the way I want them done. Just rest, my cub. And don't worry at it too much. I'll see you in a while."

She left him, and he stared at the door for a long moment, stared at it in the silence of his room. He had alot to think about.

GoTo: Title EoF

Chapter 10

Triana had been right about one thing. The customs were alot more complicated than the laws.

Tarrin sat in his bed and listened to Triana prattle on about the customs of the Were-boars, his mind drifting a bit. He had been sitting there listening to her for six days, listening and reciting as his body mended itself. The pain had reduced greatly, to the point where he no longer needed the pain-reducing medicines to go to sleep. But it was still there. It had went from a sharp chronic pain that could not be ignored to a dull ache that had taken up residence in his chest. It no longer jabbed him with pain when he moved his arms, and he even had a little motion in his shoulders. He could sit up on his own, for he had regained a good portion of his strength. But Triana did not allow him out of bed for anything other than to relieve himself. He still got tired very fast. But the hole in his chest had gotten to the point where it no longer seeped blood, and it didn't take Dolanna to change the bandages anymore.

Just as Triana predicted, Tarrin was healing very quickly.

His days were full of lessons. Triana was a very abrupt teacher. She expected his undivided attention at all times, so she only said something once. And if he couldn't recite it back to her accurately, she gave him one of those withering looks and punished him for his lack of attentiveness. Her preferred method of punishment was an hour with nothing to do but stare at the room. Before the pain had lessened to where he could sleep on his own, that had been a very effective punishment, relying on the fact that he started getting stir crazy after only a few minutes of boredom. But since the pain had lessened, he could now simply go to sleep for the hour, and wake up when it was time to resume. Tarrin had the sneaking suspicion that she used his "punishment" as a convenient way to put a break in the lesson so he could rest. When he started getting tired, he found it very hard to concentrate on her lessons, and he wouldn't tell her that he needed to stop. He had to learn it all as quickly as he could.