And he had learned much about the workings of her mind. She was only a year and a half old, yet she had the maturity and ability of a six year old human child. Maybe even more so. From talking with her, he had come to realize that Jasana's mind was not normal, even for a child of six. She was very intelligent, exceptionally so, admittedly much smarter than he was. She had a keen understanding of things that seemed to be out of place for such a tender young age, an insight into the subtle signals that passed between her parents that allowed her to effectively control Tarrin's temper any time she wished, usually by little more than a touch and a smile. She didn't seem afraid of her father's volatile temper at all, and he realized that that was because she had no reason to fear something she could utterly control.

Tarrin had never been wrapped around someone's finger before, and he found it to be both annoying and embarassing.

But the truth hurt. Jasana's gentle presence had a dramatic effect on her father, calming him where nobody other than his parents, Allia, or Keritanima could hope to calm him. She conjured up images and feelings of Janette, his little mother, causing the same powerful motivations in him that he had for that darling little human girl. He found himself completely in her thrall as he sat there and listened to her talk about when Jesmind had taken her out hunting the day before, teaching her how to pull rabbits out of burrows without getting bitten in the process. Such savage training seemed out of place for such a sweet little girl, but Tarrin knew that Jasana was a Were-cat. Hunting and killing were instinctual responses in her, and as such they were things that would be a part of her life. It was only natural for her mother to teach her all about killing prey.

It seemed surreal, lying there on the floor, a floor ingrained in his deepest memories, lying there with a little girl that was his own flesh and blood, his own daughter, listening to her prattle on aimlessly. Laying there told him how tired he was, how hard he had pushed himself, how draining that day had been both physically and emotionally. He was tired. Goddess, he was tired.

"Papa, you're not listening to me," Jasana said sharply, nudging him.

"I'm sorry, cub," Tarrin said blearily. "I'm just very tired."

"That's alright, papa," she said with a giggle. "You just put your head down and I'll read you a bedtime story, just like mama does for me."

"I'm a little old for stories, cub," Tarrin chuckled wearily, putting his head on his paws and staring into the fire.

"You're never too old for stories. Mama says so herself."

"Really? And what's her favorite story?" he asked with a slow smile.

"Her favorite story? Well, she likes telling the story of the Wanderer."

"I didn't ask what story she likes to tell, I asked what story is her favorite," he corrected her.

"Her favorite story is the one she tells me about you, papa," she replied, her expression turning sober. "She tells it to me almost every other night."

"A story about me? I'd like to hear it."

"Well, I don't know if she wants me to tell you," Jasana fretted, but then she giggled. "But she's not here, is she?"

"Jasana, you are a sneaky little rat."

"Mama says worse things," Jasana told him with a roguish smile, but then her expression turned sober again. "Mama told me that you were once a human, like Uncle Garyth, but you became like mama when she bit you."

"That's right."

"I don't understand that. How could you be something else than what you are?"

"Magic, cub," he told her with a smile.

"Oh. Anyway, she said that you were chosen by someone to do something very important, something so important that you couldn't be with us. She says that you've travelled all over the world doing this thing, and that someday you'd come home to us and we could be a family."

"She said that?"

"Umm," Jasana said with a nod. "Mama tells me something new every night, like how you stole some great thing from an evil monster in a faraway city, or you fighting Trolls in the forests, or you beating some evil thing that tried to hurt you, or how you learned about things from Gramma after you got hurt. She once told me about how you climbed some great stone tree and found a city at the top."

Tarrin was startled. That all had happened. How did Jesmind find out what he was doing? Triana. Of course. Triana was a Were-cat with some extraordinary sources of information. Triana was telling Jesmind, and Jesmind was telling Jasana in the form of bedtime stories. "Seems pretty wild to me, cub," Tarrin said mildly. "If I did all that, where would I find time to sleep?"

"I asked her why you couldn't come home, but all she says is that you're not done yet," Jasana sighed. "But you're done now, right papa? You came home, just like mama promised. Does this mean we can be a family now?"

Tarrin sighed deeply. "No, kitten, it doesn't," he said quietly. "I'm afraid I just came home for a little while. I have to leave again, and very soon, because there are very important things out there I need to do."

"It's not fair," Jasana said petulantly. "Aren't I important to you?" she asked in a small voice, staring at him with large, expressive eyes.

That was a low blow, but he'd come to learn that Jasana went for the throat. She was a devious manipulator, and she went right for the jugular with that remark and those heartbreaking eyes. "I'm doing this because you are that important to me, cub," he told her carefully. "If I don't do this, then our home won't be safe. I have to keep the den safe, don't I?"

"Well," she hedged, looking away.

"Exactly. Sometimes we all have to do things we don't want to do, even when they don't feel right to us."

Jasana looked at him with a pouting expression. Goddess, this was a devious little girl! He very nearly groaned. Devious! He pitied Jesmind at that point, having to deal with this cunning little handful all day every day.

"That's not going to work on me, Jasana," he said firmly. "Unlike your mother, I'm used to dealing with sneaky little girls like you."

The pouting expression vanished like it had never been, and the girl pushed her strawberry blond hair from her face. "When will you come home for good, father?" she asked intently, sudden maturity creeping into her voice. "Mother misses you, and I want you to be with me."

"I don't know, cub," he sighed, putting his chin on his paws and staring into the fire, feeling his eyes grow heavy. "Hopefully, very soon."

Rain began pattering on the roof, droning on in a way that tempted him into going to sleep in the most delicious manner. "So that means that you'll come home?" Jasana pressed. "That we can be a family?"

"Family is what we make of it, cub," he told her in a distant tone.

"That's alright. You promised to come home," she said happily, snuggling down beside him. "You promised."

"I am home, cub," he said in a musing doze, and then he closed his eyes. "This is my home."

And then the hard days, the weather, the events of the day overwhelmed him, and he drifted off to sleep.

Jesmind couldn't help but feel her heart go all aflutter.

She leaned against the doorframe, looking at her Tarrin and their daughter sleeping on the floor by the fire. When he was asleep, the softness and gentleness of her former cub shone through the tension that was always in his expression, making him as handsome and appealing as she remembered him to be. It didn't seem fair for so much misery to be heaped on those shoulders, and though she was proud that he had managed to come through it without losing his mind or his humanity, she still grieved for him, for the pain he had been forced to endure.

Seeing him there on the floor reminded her of why she had brought Jasana here, why she had bothered, why she cared.