There had been other events during those six days. He had met Shirazi and Singer. Shirazi was a very tall Were-cat with auburn hair and grayish striped fur, but she hadn't really impressed him that much. All she could talk about was hunting. It consumed her, it dominated her every thought, and it was all she wanted to talk about. Even when not talking about hunting, she couched all her words in hunting metaphors and phrases. Aside from that, she seemed to be a pleasant enough Were-cat, kind and considerate. He just found her one-track mind a bit annoying. Singer was Shirazi's daughter. She was a very young Were-cat, only thirty, and she looked just like a very young version of Shirazi. She looked like a teenage girl, albeit it a very tall one. She had her mother's grayish striped fur, but her hair was brown. Her facial features were much like Shirazi's just as sharp and angular. Both of them looked like they were Nyrian, a dark-skinned, slant-eyed race of humans from a kingdom on the other side of Yar Arak, except their skin was too light.

He didn't see them that often, because they had been out killing people. Literally. Dolanna had told him all about it. The five of them had been slinking around both cities, wiping out pockets of Wikuni and human enemies. They were very thorough, and they were completely merciless about it. The only one that didn't participate was Kimmie, who stayed behind to defend Tarrin from any kind of attack while the rest of them sallied forth to destroy his enemies. It only took them three days to completely drive every Wikuni out of the two cities. They had all gotten onto their ships and sailed away. They were still rooting out all the pockets of human thieves and cutthroats, though. Triana didn't know which ones were working for Tarrin's enemies, so she was simply being thorough in destroying all of them.

And the fact that nobody knew who was doing it was testament to his elders' abilities. Nobody had so much as seen one of the mysterous assassins that had killed a complete company of Wikuni Marines, then started randomly targeting Wikuni of any kind until the entire complement of them fled. And after the Wikuni were taken care of, the killings had begun among the two cities' populations of thieves and scoundrels. The thieves seemed to realize that it was the hiring the men with silver swords had done that had started it, but they were helpless to do anything but run, because those men were among the first to be singled out and killed. That had started the mass exodus of thieves, beggars, murderers, footpads, and other low-lifes in both cities, fleeing for greener pastures.

That left him alone with Kimmie a bit more than the others. Kimmie seemed to like him, she was bright and thoughtful, and she seemed to strike up an immediate friendship with Dar. Allia was still feeling her out, though. Tarrin rather liked her. He could relate to her, because she had once been human as well, and she could sympathize when he told her about his experiences. She too had had to adjust to the inctincts, and had had to face her own personal demons. But unlike him, Kimmie had been found by Mist not long after her turning, and Mist had managed to help her adjust without too much trauma. The act seemed out of character for Mist, who didn't even fully trust Triana. Kimmie wouldn't really talk about it, though.

"Alright, cub, what do you do when you find yourself on a Were-boar's range?"

"Stay where I am and wait for three days," he replied mechanically. "If he doesn't come in three days, I can pass through his territory after I leave a mark that can identify me to it."

"Why don't you just leave?"

"Because a Were-boar will track you down if you run away," he answered. "Were-boars don't like unannounced tresspassers."

"Correct. How do you greet a pack of Were-wolves?"

"We don't. Were-wolves will attack Were-cats in their territory. We flee from their territory when we realize we're on Were-wolf ground."

"Good. What do you say when a Were-bear asks you to fight?"

"I accept. Were-bears like to fight, but not in anger. It's a form of play for them, and they won't hurt me on purpose."

"What do you do when you enter a Were-fox's den?"

"Surrender any weapons I'm carrying, even things like eating knives."

"Very good, cub. You retain knowledge very well. Alot better than any of my other children ever did."

"Thank you, but when are you going to teach me about Were-cat customs?"

"I won't," she replied bluntly. "We don't have what you'd call an organized existence, cub. We all live day by day. Other Were-kin teach their cubs to be wary around us, but we don't have any little customs that the others have to know about. Other Were-kin can be classified by their type. Some are a little different here or there, but they all still react in the same basic way to some things. We don't. Every Were-cat is individual, but the one thing we all share in common is a feral disposition that shows itself most often in our short tempers. As a race, we're generally quick to anger and are very unsociable to others. What angers one Were-cat won't bother another one at all. Since we don't have 'racial quirks' other than our tempers, it's hard for the others to deal with us."

"Oh. So, just take each Were-cat as he or she comes."

"Just about. There aren't many of us, so you'll learn how to deal with the others as you meet them. But I'm not going to sit here and describe each one to you. Those are lessons you'll have to learn on your own."

"You said a feral disposition. We're all feral?"

"To varying degrees," she affirmed. "It's the one thing that marks us as different from the other Were-kin, other than this," she said, holding up her arms. "Some, like you and Mist, are way further up on that pole than others. Kimmie's probably the least feral of us all. But all of us are a touch feral."

"Then we do have a common trait," he challenged.

"Technically, but since each Were-cat is different, then they still can't use that to try to approach us."

"What makes it different?"

"Well, the biggest reason is how we've learned to deal with rage," she said, sitting down. "All of us have rages, cub. It's part of being Were-cat, and it's one reason we're all considered feral by other Were-kin. None of us are ever in total control. Some, like you, have found that being feral helps deal with the guilt. After all, when you're feral, you don't care. It's a simple solution, and probably one that saved your sanity. Others have found other ways to deal with it without having to take that step. The only problem with the feral solution is that it opens you up to more rages," she said, looking directly at him. "If you don't care, then you're much more likely to snap, because you don't fear the consequences. I've felt you go into a rage twice. That's pretty frequent for the amount of time I've had your bond, but then again, you've been hunted that entire time. I can forgive you for it, because I know what touched it off. Mist can fly into a rage at any time, and she's completely indifferent to the havoc she can cause. That's why we don't let her come into human civilization unless absolutely necessary. I'm taking a big risk letting her stay here, but I need her. She's probably the best tracker in the Heartwood. Her nose is so sensitive that she can tell you how many deer were in a herd a month after they went by. Mist's nose makes sure that nobody can hide from us."

The door opened, and the slender Rahnee stepped in. She gave Tarrin a grin as Triana turned to look. "Shirazi and Mist are back," she said. "They found another hideout. You want me to get Singer?"

"How many are hiding there?"

"Twenty or so. Nothing major," she shrugged. "You're looking rosy, cub. I think Triana'll let you out of that bed soon."

"We'll see," Triana said.

"When's he going to be healed?"