"We were awake," Jesmind said to her daughter with an uncharacteristically threatening growl. "What did I tell you last night, Jasana?"

"Not to come into your room until you opened the door," she replied after a hesitation.

"And what did you do?"

"I came into your room," she said. "But that was last night. This is tomorrow! You didn't say anything about not coming in tomorrow!"

"What does a closed door mean to you, cub!" Jasana snapped at her.

"That you have to open it," she said innocently.

Tarrin burst out laughing, and Jesmind flopped her head on his shoulder in helpless defeat. "Go fetch water for breakfast, young lady, and we'll discuss your need to twist my words when you get back!" Jesmind ordered her in a harsh tone, her claws digging into Tarrin's shoulder and chest. "And don't go out without dressing first!" she called.

"Yes, mama," she said in a subdued tone, sliding off the bed and padding out, pulling her nightshirt down over her bare bottom after it had ridden up over her tail.

"That is definitely your daughter," Jesmind sighed, putting her forehead on his shoulder again.

"It's the mother's curse," Tarrin said with a chuckle.

"What curse?"

"You know the one. 'When you grow up, I hope that you have a child as bad as you are!'"

Jesmind looked at him, then she burst out laughing. "Now then, where were we?" she asked in a purring tone.

"I think we were right about here," he replied, pulling her down to him.

"I love a male with a good memory," she purred before kissing him again.

Kissing was about as much as they could get away with, for Jasana's moving around the house, and the fact that she didn't close the door, precluded any fooling around. Though Tarrin knew that Jesmind wouldn't care about Jasana-sex was a natural thing, and as such there was no need to hide it from their daughter-there did seem to be some kind of human-based need not to directly expose her to such things. Tarrin mulled it over as they dressed, realizing that Jasana would ask questions that Jesmind may not feel she was ready to understand, even if she knew the answer. Jasana, he had found out, was an intensely curious child, and she could be very, very persistent when she wanted to know something. To save herself grief, Jesmind was almost acting like a human about it.

While Jesmind and Jasana went about making breakfast, Tarrin wandered around the house for the first time, seeing how they had changed it. Jesmind had appropriated his parents' room, and Jasana now occupied Jenna's old room. All of Jenna's furniture was there, and he saw with some dismay that Jasana had taken liberties with Jenna's toys and her personal possessions. Curious… though she was a child, and she had tremendous strength for such a small being, more than enough to do considerable damage, all of Jenna's dolls were still in immaculate condition. Jasana was very careful with Jenna's toys, very careful not to break them. That was significant to him, for that was not a trait one often saw in children so young.

The common room that held the kitchen and the chairs had been changed, but the parlor, the living room that his parents hadn't used that much, had been untouched. It still held the fancy upholstered furniture-at least for a frontier homestead on the edge of civilization-and the old painting of some landscape hanging on the wall, just over the bow Eron hung on the wall, the bow he had used while in the army. The storage room that had been behind the parlor was full of different things now, as Tarrin realized that it was the room where his mother had stored everything she deemed valuable, like her precious china. Those were the things she probably asked Garyth to take out of the house and store somewhere safe, for they were the things she couldn't bear to leave unattended.

Climbing up the steep, narrow staircase in the back of the house, Tarrin went up into his old room, and he was surprised.

It had been absolutely untouched.

Everything was exactly where he had left it, showing his haste to prepare to get ready to leave some two years ago, though it was all rather dusty. The clothes were still flung on the floor, the chest at the foot of his bed still open, the bed still rumpled where he had stood on it to get the box out from its hiding place in the rafters. That ceiling was much closer now, so close that he had to duck under the very beams that had taken a boost for him to reach before. The gray slate roof was visible beyond those support beams, slate tiles that had carried the sound of pouring rain through the house when it rained, gray slate tiles whose shapes and lines were very familiar to him, even now.

Tarrin sat down on the bed, a bed too small for him now, looking around. His sword and axe still rested in the corner, rusted over, and the little knife he carried around with him still hung from its sheathe on his bedpost. The nightstand held an unlit candle and a book, with a dust-filled glass sitting beside them. The washstand still held the pitcher and basin, the water long evaporated. Sitting there reminded him of his life back then, so very long ago, conjured up memories of the little things he had forgotten after so long. He stood and went to the window, having to kneel to be able to look out, looking out towards the Frontier, with the little brook that ran mere spans from the side of the house, that split the meadow into its two disparately sized parts. He folded his arms on the sill and rested his chin on them, sharing a view that had been revealed to him many times before, wondering over the fact that it all looked the same, that it hadn't changed at all.

It was almost a melancholy feeling, looking over the artifacts of his former life, seeing them dusty and rusted and deteriorated with the passage of time. It made him feel old. It made him feel like it had been a thousand years since the last time he had set foot in his old room, when it had only been a few rides short of two years. Had so much happened in that short time? Of course it had. The life of the young always went by so fast, but Tarrin existed now in a kind of realm of paradox, a young man's mind trapped inside the body of an extremely aged Were-cat. That age crept into his mind now and again, or maybe it was just the fact that everything that had happened had had such an impact on him.

He saw Jasana dash into view, a bucket in her paw, and it made him smile. She was such an energetic child, skipping to do her chore, her tail waggling along behind her happily. She seemed so happy, all the time, and she was so affectionate. It was impossible not to fall in love with her. He felt a burst of almost overwhelming pride when he saw her, knowing that she would be the most powerful Sorcerer alive in just a few short years, knowing that his daughter would exceed him. It posed a problem right at the moment, but he'd figure out something. He always did.

"Remembering?" Jesmind asked as she came up the stairs.

"I guess," he admitted, not looking back at her, continuing to watch their daughter delaying in her chore to try to scoop up little fish with the bucket. They confounded her, but even from that distance, he could see the look of serious determination on her little face. "I little of both, actually."

"Both of what?"

"Remembering the past and looking towards the future," he replied as she came up behind, leaned over him and looked out the window.

Jesmind chuckled. "It'll take her about ten minutes to stop playing and bring in the water. Usually I have to take the minnows out of it. She does this all the time."

"Children are supposed to play," Tarrin said gently, watching her.

"I know. But I get a little tired of throwing the minnows back into the stream."

"Why not eat them?"

"Because if I did, there wouldn't be as many minnows for Jasana to chase," she replied with a chuckle, putting her paws on his shoulders.