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Minetz and Renno sit around plans laid out across the workbench.

"See, like this. It means 'ply' like a ply of wood or paper." Minetz pokes away at the paper.

Renno sits quietly his gaze lost in the rafters. "Why have one word for two different things."

"No no no, you don't understand. It's just the same as talking. 'Ply of wood, ply of paper.'" He writes the example as he speaks. "There's a written word, for every word you say."

A hard knock at the front door of the workshop disturbs the boys. Minetz is first to leap to his feet. "I'll get it!" he hops over the banister as is his usual method leaving Renno to wonder if the Thono even have stairs in their homeland.

The little rabbit pulls at the door with all his might but barely gets it to budge. "Just push it." He calls to the figure on the other side.

Minetz stands back and with a loud scrape the door is shouldered open. It's Tharen.

Renno looks over the banister, his ears plaster back at the sight of the guard.

Tharen kicks the door shut. "When are you going to fix that door?"

"When I'm big enough to push it open myself! Oh oh oh, whats that? What is it? Is it for me?" Minetz walks all around Tharen his eyes fixed upon four bowls of soup.

"Hold on, let me get inside first." They climb up the steps and sit at the workbench leaving Renno behind at the top of the stairs.

In a stern voice Tharen commands him. "Come on, join us. Whats your name."

Renno carefully approaches them and says quietly. "Renno."

"Okay Renno, I'm sure you know why I'm here. By the way where's Kyra?" He sets the bowls down and peeks inside the lid of each of them.

Minetz speaks up before Renno can answer. "She went to the docks, She won't be back till tomorrow. Is that mine?"

"Here vegetable soup for you, and this one is yours. Renno you said?" Tharen hands the bowl to Renno who cautiously takes it form his paws.

"Yes." He says in the tone of a question. "Thanks for the stew."

"Courtesy of Rozen so thank him. Which brings be back to what brought me here. You caused quite a scene today." Tharen shoots Renno a stare that of condemnation.

"I was-"

Tharen cuts him off. "I've been asked to check on you by the captain. A lot of people are asking about you. Let me get the official questions out of the way first."

"Um, okay." Renno slowly takes a sip of his stew.

"First, for the record what is your species and where do you personally hail from?"

"I can't remember."

Minetz interrupts. "It's true, hes a survivor can you believe it?"

Tharen holds his paw up to silencing Minetz. "That's fine, but I need to hear it from him. So please no more until I finish."

"It's true I suppose. I don't remember. I don't even remember being sick. I but it's all I have to go on."

"Okay, then. You eat meat? Anything else?" Tharen leans back in his chair.

"Minetz gave me some vegetables the other day that were pretty good, some of them at least. I don't remember of course what I used to eat, but something about it felt right."

"I see. Well, Renno. You can't just go walking around town into our halls for no reason. If you can't afford to stay in Brown Hearth it would be best for you to stay here and keep your head down." He says sternly.

Renno looks down into his soup. "Yes sir."

Tharen breaks character and laughs. "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. Seriously though. People around here just don't know what to do with the unfamiliar. Just tell them your here to trade. Also I've been asked to give you this." Tharen reaches into his bracer and pulls out a string necklace with a medallion on it.

Renno cautiously reaches for it but Tharen snatches it away before he can close his paw around it.

"Before I give it to you I need to make it clear, when you leave I'm going to need this back. It's an official mark of state protection. It won't get you into any services but it should help with the locals and keep you safe."

"Oh just like mine!" Minetz pulls a similar medallion out from under his shirt.

Tharen shoots him a look and Minetz sits back down. "Understood?"

"Understood." Renno takes the medallion then adds. "Safe from what?

Tharen looks at him a little confused but ignores the question. "There are a few laws I need to make clear. Stay out of public services they will be marked by the Anoran seal." He points at the medallion.

Renno examines it to find a Diamond with three inverted V's over it.

"Second, there is to be no hunting of any kind and while its not a law exactly, try not to touch anyone. You look a little too much like a Thanorite."

"Um okay." Renno takes a spoon with a nice chunk of meat out of his bowl and eats it.

"Alright, any questions for me?"

"Plenty." Excitement enters Rennos voice. "Do you know what I am? Where I can find my people?"

"Not a clue. Not even the captain knew, although he only had wild descriptions to go on from witnesses. I'm sure he would like to get a good look at you himself. Personally, I think you're the first of your kind here at least in recent memory. Maybe from north of the Great Divide. But unless you were shipwrecked I don't know how you would have got all the way down here unnoticed. Anything else you'd like to ask?"

"Whats the deal with the bracelets. Yours is different than everyone else's. Meanwhile Kyra doesn't even have one."

"Ah, yes. The bracelets. I'm sure you've noticed it's a pretty hard life here. We have a social code. The bracelet signifies you are a member of good standing within society. It grants you access to food, shelter, bath, and a few other things provided by the crown. It's meant to distribute resources to those who can be trusted to contribute. If someone becomes a criminal, trouble maker, or lazy drunk and neglects his duty or betrays the trust of his fellow man. It can be taken."

Renno cautiously asks in a soft quiet tone, "Oh, I see, what did Kyra do?"

Tharen half snaps back at him. "Shes done nothing wrong and don't you forget that." He backs down and continues easing into his chair. "Kyra is only 15. She won't be considered an adult until the fall."

"So will she get her bracelet then?"

"Unfortunately its not that simple. Shes an orphan. Your bracelet typically comes from your family." He takes his bracelet off and lays it on the table. "See how mine is made from these hard white stones? Each of them marked?"

Renno looks it over. He reaches to pick it up and examine it more closely but Tharen snatches it away returning it to his wrist.

"Normally its made from fangs, the fangs are taken from your family members upon death their names inscribed on them. Kyra, like me, will have earn hers another way."

"How does she do that?"

"Well its different for men and women. Take me for example. As a man, I was able to join the guard. Service to the state is a common route but one that is generally closed to women. After the war and the plague, our population has been decimated. Women are forbidden from dangerous jobs. These days children are needed."

Tharen takes on a more somber tone and continues. "Too many guild halls sit empty like this one. Small farms and workshops in the countryside die from the cold or starvation unable to prepare for winter. We have no shortage of food but not enough warm bodies to transport it all. Too many shy away from such dangerous work. Instead they cling to the roots of their fathers. They attempt to tend the large empty hulls of guilds and farms meant to serve a population that no longer exists. Then, winter claims them."

Renno not quite following along. "So, what about Kyra?"

Tharen annoyed, not at the question but at an unspoken fact known only to him responds. "Well for women the easiest way is to marry. Other than that you can swear fealty to a guild master willing to take you under their service. You get access under their honor in exchange for your labor. But little to no pay otherwise."

Frustrated Renno asserts. "So, slavery then."

Tharen scoffs. "Not slavery, your free to go at any time. But if you do you will be on your own and expected to pay."

"Is paying really that hard?" Renno scratches his head.

"It's the stigma of not having the good standing. Jobs go first to those with their marks of honor. Without one your rights are more or less forfeit. The assumption being you are a criminal. So even if you have the coin you can expect to be turned away."

Renno compelled by an uneasy feeling presses Tharen. "Why not just steal a bracelet and skip town?"

"If only it were that easy. The punishment for such a crime is death. Remember ordinary bracelets are made from the I-teeth of your ancestors. Each with their names carved on them. You won't find spare teeth laying around and a stolen one would be easy to identify. Fabricated ones like my own are registered with the state. New residents are expected to submit upon arrival for examination with the local guard."

Renno, shocked, wearily states. "Death, that seems a bit harsh."

"Is it really? If they already lost their honor and need to steal a bracelet they are only proving they are committed to a life of crime? And if a criminal gets fed without doing the work and another honorable Anoran dies is he not responsible?" Tharens tone and expression make it clear he is certain, the question rhetorical.

Renno is taken aback by his commitment. "Is life here really so hard here?"

"Honestly, it's been pretty good here in town the last few years. We still have trade with the north in such a large city. This is just about the only place the population decline has made life easier. Food here is plentiful. It's the countryside that suffers. But between me, Kyra, and Minetz I'm the oldest and I have been an orphan longest. Let me tell you when I was little before the plague I remember stealing food from carts and clothing off the dead who froze in the streets."

Renno sighs. "That's terrible." He processes Thraens words for a moment. "So do you think Kyra will marry?"

"I've tried to talk sense into her. But she won't have it. She wants to go at things the hard way."

Minetz pipes up in the background. "Well you shouldn't have run away then."

Tharen glares at Minetz who sits with his legs through the railing looking away down to the lower floor. After a moment of silence he turns to find Tharen still staring him down. He quickly springs to his feet and scurries away up the ladder to the loft.

Renno asks "What's the hard way."

"Well it's not impossible to get recognition from the state and have your honor reinstated. It's a pain. You need to be sponsored by someone who puts their own reputation on the line. Any crime you commit will carry over to them for the rest of their life. Or impress someone high up enough to have them essentially pardon you."

"But you said yourself Kyra never did anything wrong."

"The assumption is without parents you were never taught to contribute."

Renno almost hopeless at this point. "Couldn't someone just adopt her then?"

"That's no simple matter either. Sure, we do what we can to help the orphans. But being charitable to an orphan is socially different than taking one in. First if you run on hard times and a child in your care dies you are responsible. But stop donating to an orphan and no one cares. Second there's the idea that if your so well off you can support a child not of your own then you must have an excess of wealth. There is nothing wrong with that directly but say your the master of a hall like Rozen. He's like a father to Kyra. But if he adopts her and one day the supply of food runs short what do you think people would say? How much food over the years went to his illegitimate daughter? Who is he to choose one girl over anyone else?"

"People can't be that unforgiving." Renno dismisses the notion.

"A person won't, maybe. But a group? Don't underestimate the power of whispers across an empty table."

"Does she have a plan then?" Renno fights a desperate feeling of comradery with Kyra, stuck in a situation where there is little hope. For himself it is his past, for her, her honor.

"Kyra has been getting worse in the last year. Shes desperate to prove herself. Shes been retreating further into her faith in Miran. Faith is a powerful tool. But too much and it will eat away at your individuality. You become a hollow shell pupped by the zealous expectations of the devout."

"That's a pretty negative way to look at it. I don't really remember what I may or may not have believed in, but it can't be all bad can it?"

"Not from where I'm standing. Where was Miran when my parents died, or Minetz, or Kyra's."

"They aren't dead." Minetz voice chimes in distantly from above.

"She needs to come to terms with the facts." Tharen says in a commanding tone back at him. "I won't deny Miran's existence. But its clear she's done too much watching and not enough doing to keep my respect." Tharen sighs and throws his head back and stares into the ceiling.

Renno challenges the notion. "Aren't you afraid of what would happen if you anger Miran."

"It's not our place to be concerned with the actions of the watchers." Tharen sits upright in his chair. "Anyway, I've got to get back to my post. Tell Kyra I was here. Also stop by and thank Rozen for the meal." He slides the sealed bowl intended for Kyra across the table to Renno.

He looks at it confused. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Put it out in the cold and let it freeze. Or, if your not going to save it for Kyra eat it now." Tharen rises from his seat and heads for the door. "If I don't hear from Kyra sooner I'll stop by tomorrow night. She should be back by then for sure."

. . .

The door of hall swings open clattering against the wall. A drunken Korzon stumbles out into the street. A layer of freshly fallen snow crunches beneath his paws as he stumbles away from the guards. "Keep the light on for me boys," he slurs his words a little but gains his composure. "I'll be right back after I take a piss." The orange glow of the lanterns emanates through the falling snow. The town still busy with activity of workers loading and unloading carts. That similar but strange subtle silence of fresh un-trodden snow has muted the town.

Korzon makes his way to the side of the road and leans against the cart to steady himself as he undoes his pants. He fumbles with the drawstring due to the bandage on his paw. He curses under his breath in frustration. Eventually he manages to undo the pants far enough to relieve himself.

He steps back out into the street and pauses to stretch. Tiered and aching from the rough day now behind him. He stumbles, holding his arms outstreched above his head enough to throw off his balance under the effect of the alcohol. He catches himself before falling braces against the cart.

He begins talking to himself. "Too much Korzon. Too much. No no no. Not enough. Who are you my dad? No I'm me. I mean you." he laughs. "I really must be drunk. I better make sure I've not missed." He looks down and examines his hind paws grabbing his leg to pull it closer for a smell. He loses his balance and falls over beside the cart. "Shit, its fine, okay." He starts to get up. That's when he sees it.

The tail sticking out from below the cart, flicking in the snow. He pokes his head under the cart slowly. It's Kyra, sound asleep. He stands up and looks back at the hall. The guards still posted at the door and grins. Time she gets what's coming to her. Korzon grabs her tail with both paws and shouts "Help theif! Guards guards!" he pulls at her with all his might.

Kyra awakes abruptly disoriented. Clawing for the ground finding only the tarp she had folded for bedding.

Korzon leans back pulling as hard as he can. Kyra kicks at him but he manages a lucky grab and holds on to her hind paw. He wedges it under his arm and drags her out into the street.

The guards come running over.

"I found her trying to steal from this cart, she tried to hide under it."

Kyra trys to stand but Korzon pushes her back to the ground and she rolls on her back. She quickly rolls into a seated position. "No I didn't. You liar." her voice strained and weak. Tears from the shock of it all run down her face.

"I saw it, you grabbed the tarp and tried to make off with it." Korzon shouting loudly so that the guards may hear him.

"Halt, halt." The call out as they approach.

Kyra starts to stand.

"Stay on the ground." one of the guards shouts.

Kyra sits back down and crosses her arms.

Korzon calls to them as they approach. "That's the one there, I saw her. She took that tarp." He pulls the tarp the tarp up off the ground and holds it up like a trophy. "She would have taken more too, lucky I got here in time."

The guards arrive spears drawn. "Okay, whats going on here."

Korzon and Kyra talk over one another "I, she was, trying to sleep but, and then I saw her take the tarp, he grabbed my tail and, a theif I say, pushed me-"

The guard shouts at them. "One at a time! You," he points at Korzon. "What did you see?"

"I came over here to piss off a night of drinking and found this filthy street girl stealing from this cart, she tried to duck under and hide but I dragged her out to face justice for her crimes." He tries his best to sound just and in his right mind but his drunken state takes hold of his words making itself known.

The guard turns to Kyra. "Well what do you have to say for yourself."

She throws her paws into air. "It's a lie, I was part of the caravan. You wouldn't let me in earlier so I came out here to try and sleep. I took out a tarp to keep off the ground and slept under the cart out of the snow."

"Liar!" Korzon shouts he takes a step forward. He stumbles and has to pause to catch his balance.

The guard takes a closer look at Kyras face beneath her hood. "I remember you. You tried to barge your way in to the hall earlier under false pretense. That's it, your under arrest." He grabs her arm and tries to pull her to her feet.

Kyra twists her body and pulls away from him. "Get off me!" she falls back to the ground to her knees braced on one arm.

Korzon having regained his balance pushes his way past the guard and kicks her as hard as he can square in the ribs as she tries to stand. "Liar!"

Kyra screams and rolls over away from him coughing in agony.

The violence of the attack proves too much for Korzon. He trips and falls to the ground.

The guards turn on him and drag him to his feet. "You too, you're coming with us. Ya lousy drunk."

Kyra tears running down her face, crawling away on one arm, the other grasping her chest, choking for air drags herself towards the edge of the road.

Korzon continues to resist and pushes back the guard nearly breaking fre. Both guards turn their attention on him eventually subduing him.

The second guard turns his attention on Kyra and walks around the cart to grab her.

She scrambles desperately towards edge of the road. Before he can grab her she rolls over the embankment down towards the river.

The guard stops at the edge and peers hopeless down into the darkness below.

The other guard calls to him. "Just let her go, I don't think she'll be a problem."

"You hear that?" the guard at the roadside shouts into the black of night. "Don't let me catch you in town again. Got it?"

Silence.

At the bottom of the tall stone embankment Kyra lays face down in the snow crying. She can taste her own blood in her mouth. The inside of her cheek cut by her own sharp teeth upon landing. The rough hard frozen rock of the hillside has taken its toll on her. After a time she slowly comes to a crawl. Slowly and in agonizing pain she makes her way to a tree growing along the river bank and uses it to brace herself into a seated position. She dries her eyes and pulls her hood back over her head. The snow building up on her clothing slowly.

The pain in her ribs is made worse but the choice to sit rather than lie flat in the snow but she knows it's her best chance to survive the night. Cold and shivering she huddles against the tree. Her thoughts an incoherent blur of the events that just transpired trying to grasp at any meaning culminated best in two simple words. Why me?

The last few hours of night slip past. The steady soft sound of the river calms her. Eventually Kyra drifts off to sleep. Few creatures of this wold would survive such a night without warmth or shelter. Anoran's are unique in this regard. Unpleasant and still dangerous they are built for these conditions.

Kyra awakes to the sun in the sky and a paw on her shoulder.

"I found her!" a voice calls out from above. It's source obscured as a silhouette against the clear sunny sky. "Come on little one. Lets get you out of here." The voice belongs to Rhal.

Kyra's raises her head, her cloak is stiff and frozen. Her fur too.

A voice calls down from the street. "What do I care, get back up here we have to leave." This voice belongs to Rivaus.

Rhal pulls Kyra to her feet. She inhales through her teeth her nose clogged clutching her chest. The pain almost unbearable.

Rhal gently presses his large open paw against her chest below her breast. Kyra reacts to the sharp sting of pain. "I think its broken." He says. "I'm Afraid this is going to hurt." Before she can protest he scoops her up over his shoulder onto his back.

Kyra yelps but does not resist and instead clings to him the best she can.

Rhal climbs the embankment back to the street.

Rivaus waits impatiently watching. "All right now put that filthy thing down we are late.

Rhal lets Kyra slide off his back onto her feet, she stumbles and nearly falls from the pain on landing. Out of breath she looks around the crew to find a new face in the crowd.

"Lets go." Rivaus shouts. The men take their positions. The new one taking Kyra's spot.

She speaks up. "Sir I-"

"I don't want to hear it. You can't push in that condition. Your too much trouble to me." Rivaus, callous and uncaring as if discussing a business transaction.

"Can I at least ride home?" she pleads with him. Tears running down her face.

"Absolutely not," he turns to the men. "Lets go, lets go."

"But I-"

This time he speaks angrily. "I've had to hire a new hand. Your goods are forfeit now get out of here before I throw you back over the hill myself."

Rhal shakes his head sympathetically but says nothing.

Rivaus pushes past Kyra and makes his way briskly to the head of the caravan.

She is left standing in the middle of the street, frozen. Hunched over clutching her ribs as they walk away. She remains there for some time unsure what is left for her to do. The hall won't let her in. She has no money, no food. Its been almost a day since she's eaten anything. This at least isn't unusual for her. She looks out at the ocean. The docks are clear. The only vessels left have been pulled ashore for the winter. Enozen's envoy has gone at some point in the night. I can't stay here. Miran protect me, I must walk home.

She summons the will to take the first step in the long journey back to Aht'Regania.

One slow agonizing step after another she follows the cart path. What seemed like a slight downhill before is like a towering mountain before her. The narrow gap of the falls before her faint on the horizon. From time to time another cart catches up to her. She pleads with each of them to let her board. But dirty, limping, and without marks of honor or coin none are willing to help.

Slowly the walls climb upward as she enters the gorge. The mist of the falls ahead forms a dark cloud. The sun sits on the edge of the mountains above. Her body shivering, legs trembling. One slow step after another she makes her way forward.

The falls slowly moves closer as the sun slips below the horizon. The base camp lodge guides her onward crawling slowly closer to her. Kyra soon finds her self standing at the bottom step for what seems like forever. The pain of climbing them hold her at the base but only second to the fear of rejection. She stares up the steps at the door silently closing her eyes. She can feel the tiny crystals of ice blown free of the falls land on her nose like stars in the night sky.

She opens her eyes and takes a deep breath and coughs the pain in her chest claws at her subconscious in an attempt to undermine her confidence. She droops to her knees and takes a hold of the steps with her claws. One step at a time she climbs to the top. Weakly knocks at the base of the door. For the moment, silence. She wraps her paws around the railing and slowly pulls herself to her feet. The door creeks open. It is an unfamiliar Airet.

He peers through the crack at her and slowly closes the door shaking his head.

She calls to him. "No, please, the old man. Is he here? Get him."

The door closes with a soft thud.

Kyra leans weakly against the railing. After some time the door opens again and the old man stands before her.

He sighs a long sympathetic sigh. "Come on." he reaches out for her paw. Instead she collapses into his arms. He holds onto her refusing to let her fall to the floor. He pulls her right arm arm over his shoulders and helps her to the drying room. This time the sauna is empty. All travelers have passed for the night. "Dry off, No sense in going up the falls tonight. By Miran what's happened to you."

Kyra remains silent. She takes off her cloak but can't pull her shirt off over her head.

The old man can see shes in pain and struggling. He helps her pull it off and hangs it up for her.

Kyra hands him the rest of her clothing. "I don't want to talk about it." She lays down on the wooden floor facing away from him her back nearest the pit.

He shakes his head. "You young people think you can do everything on your own. I won't talk you out of it. I may be old but I remember what it was like." He shakes his head and leaves her to rest. After a while he returns with fresh coals and a bowl of stew. He finds her sleeping. He cautiously sets the bowl down beside her and pours the coals into the pit. Before leaving her to rest.

. . .

A familiar knock at the front door sends Minetz flying to his feet, Renno following as usual behind him to the balcony.

This time Tharen chooses to let himself in ahead of Minetz arrival. Another four bowls of stew fill his arms. "Where is she?"

Renno is first to respond. "She's hasn't been here yet."

Tharen frustrated like dealing with a disobedient child. "You're not serious are you?"

Renno answers the rhetorical question. "Why would I lie?"

Tharen struggles to balance the bowls on his arm while Minetz tugs at him. In a display of exceptional balance he manages to close the door with one foot and keep one particular Thono off of him with his one free hand at the same time. "Well have you at least gone to see Rozen?"

Renno meets Tharen at the top of the steps. "No, do I owe him two orders of thanks now?" accepting a bowl from Tharen.

"Miran no, I wouldn't want to see him two days in a row. This is from Elons."

"Oh I met him before, the first night I was here."

Minetz oddly quiet takes a seat and stretches his arms out in Tharen's direction indicating he would like to eat.

Tharen, "I haven't forgotten you." He hands a bowl to Minetz after checking its contents.

Renno stirs his stew. "What's in this anyway? It's pretty good."

"Dry spices, boiled roots, pine nuts, salt, body and taste really. Elons puts in a lot more effort given the nature of his establishment."

"What nature is that?" Renno, curious.

"Brown Hearth isn't like White Hall or The Table. You can't just show up and expect to be let in even as an Anoran in good standing. He has private rooms for his guests. You have to pay. He mostly serves politicians and foreign dignitaries who don't share Anoran sentiments about sleeping arrangements." He pauses a moment and sips his bowl before quietly adding. "And, well you know, providing a space for couples to be left alone if that's what they desire."

Renno tips his head to the side confused.

Tharen continues. "I don't know what it's like in other parts of the world other than North of here in the Duran region East Attria. But we prefer to sleep in halls as a group. It's safer and more efficient for resources. Not as many homes to heat."

Suddenly it clicks for Renno. "I think I understand, that's why you eat at The Table, and bath together in state bath houses as well."

"Yeah, your learning. Good. Why waste food and warmth. Why build more than you have to." Tharen speaks with a certain tone indicating a certain pride in the efficient nature of Anoran culture.

"But where do you keep your things?"

"Usually people have a locker at their preferred hall for clothing and another at work for tools and things. Craftsmen either work on guild orders or their for their own clients. They will have personal supply storage at work."

Renno looks around the workshop at the doors to the store room. "I see. I suppose you don't have much then in the way of personal keepsakes."

"I think you understand then why the bracelets are so important to people. Societal implications aside it links people to their past."

A wave of emotion hits Renno as he contemplates not having a past of his own. "I see." He slowly sirs his bowl and takes another bite. "What kind of meat is this? you didn't say before."

Minetz out of sight from Renno shakes his head no and waves his hands to stop Tharen. Tharen ignores him. "Tanoi of course." Tharen's tone progressively becoming more casual over the course of the conversation.

"Tanoi?"

"Yeah I guess if you don't recall anything you may not have seen one yet, or one you would remember. They live in the north. Tall, they got these long curved horns on their heads. Well the men do. Really something to see. I don't know how they manage."

Renno drops his spoon to the table its contents splatter across some of the blueprints as it falls over the edge onto the floor.

Tharen looks at Renno. "What?"

Renno thinks back to that first night in the attic. The alter, the horns. The couple at the head table. Finally the realization. The Tanoi. "Y-You-" Renno's eyes locked to the half eaten bowl of stew. The question won't come out. He slaps his meal off the table across the floor. Something about it makes him sick. "YOU EAT THEM?"

Tharen remains seated and with his arms outstretched shrugs. "Well what the hell else would we eat?"

"I think I'm going to be sick." Renno stumbles away and leans against the chimney in the center of the room.

Tharen gets up from the table. "Oh come on. Really? Don't act like you aren't packing some claws and sharp teeth of your own, I'm not blind you know."

Renno looks into his paws and extends his claws. "It can't be. It's not right. I..." His paws begin to shake before he clenches them into fists. "I can't explain it. It feels wrong. No, worse. I feel things. I may not remember but I know how I feel and this is WRONG."

Tharen beginning to show frustration. "Well don't blame me and keep it to yourself. I don't need to have any more reasons to come in here on official business or its going to be a problem got it? Your our guest here, mind your manners."

"My manners? Your the one who kills and eats people." Renno throws his arms up and takes a step towards Tharen now standing.

"I don't kill anyone. It's not like that anymore. Hunting is outlawed I told you that already."

Renno closes his eyes and collects his thoughts. He becomes aware again of the medallion Tharen gave him. "That's what this keeps me safe from isn't it. It's so you don't eat me too?"

"Yeah, more than that but among other things yes. You have nothing to worry about."

"Oh sure, I'm stuck in the middle of nowhere surrounded by people who must be thinking about what side dish would go nicely with my eyeballs. Nothing to worry about, right." Renno snaps back at Tharen.

With that Tharen loses his temper and quickly flanks the table and shoves Renno with both paws.

Renno land hard on his side his face near the now empty bowl of stew he swatted away earlier. Though he is younger than Renno the Ieza is much larger than him by nature. Tharen stands over Renno with one paw in the air claws drawn.

"It would be that easy, Just remember. Not everyone will care if your protected or not. So keep your damn mouth shut got it?"

Renno climbs back to his feet and dusts himself off. "Fine," and adds mockingly. "yes sir, whatever." He kicks the empty bowl across the room into the corner.

Tharen relaxes still angry but satisfied. "Alright I'm leaving. Tell Kyra I want to talk to her as soon as she returns."

Minetz quietly squeaks. "Okay."

Neither Minetz or Renno see him out. The front door scrapes open and slams shut.

Lost in thought Renno is pulled back to reality by a familiar tug. He looks down to find Minetz hugging onto him by the waist.

"I'm sowwy," Mints says squeezing him tight, "I should have told you first."

Renno gently prys him off. "It's fine. I'm just going to go to bed, this is too much for me to handle right now." He climbs the ladder to the loft and lays down for the night.

Minetz stands at the bottom staring up at the hatch for quite some time unsure if he should climb up and check on him or not. Eventually he grabs a tattered piece of cloth from the workbench and begins to clean the floor, alone as usual.

. . .

Kyra wakes up the next morning. Her ribs no better than the night before. Still in the drying room alone. She brushes her paws through her fur. Dry and crisp. Her clothing too. She pulls each piece by the corner, raising her paw as little as possible each time to get them down. Slowly she dresses her body aches, both from her injuries and from sleeping on the bare wooden floor. Kyra tiptoes across the front hall to the door of the Lodge.

"Ah hem." The old man stands leaning against the wall around the corner at the top of the stairs. "You're not going to leave without saying goodbye are you.

Kyra clasps her tail and shuffles her feet.

"I can't convince you to stay can I?"

"I have to get home or I'll be here all winter." Her voice quiet and hesitant.

"And you are sure you can make it to the top like that?"

"I have to." she states with determination.

"If that's how it must be." The odd man approaches her with a folded piece of paper in his paw. "The the boys at the top. Take this to them. They wont turn away a messenger from the base camp." He smiles at her.

"I can't pay you." She says.

"No need, just take this night count to them. Your services as my messenger is payment enough." He smiles.

Kyra takes a moment to consider her circumstances. Given her state and the climb ahead she forgives the charitable act this time. "Thank you." she takes the note from his hand.

Outside a black sky looms overhead. Nothing can be seen in either direction. A light dusting of snow falls slowly to the ground and sound of the waterfall roars in the distance.

Slowly one agonizing step after another Kyra makes her way to the top. She has to crawl unable to gain purchase on the railing with her claws. The strength in her upper-body compromised by her injury. The pain increases with every terrace met. Her clothing soaked from the mist. It even freezes to her fur each time she stops for a break. The sun slowly illuminates a pale gray sky. The frozen wooden scaffold cracks and moans along with the rest of the ice. It echos through her mind.

Barely half way she stops to rest at the outcrop where the upper and lower lift meet. She warms her paws by the fire. The flames nearly extinguished she takes it upon her self to throw some scrap wood found by the treadmill to fuel the flames. No one is on the stairs today. The season has ended and soon the ice will take them as it does every year. The pass cut off until the thaw. A weeks journey one way around the mountains up the coast will be used for what supplies need to be traded.

The climb takes until mid day. Her clothing in tatters from crawling. Her fur darkened with dirt and sand left behind by carts. Her fur frozen in clumps she knocks on the door to the Lodge at the top of the falls.

The preceptor answers. "Oh my, Miran have mercy. What's happened to you? Come in, come in." He ushers Kyra to step inside without hesitation.

Kyra clasps her bare wrist with one paw self consciously.

"No need for that here. If hunting weren't outlawed you wouldn't need it anyway."

Her paw trembling she hands him the note. Its words running down the page illegibly. The paper half frozen shut.

"Ah yes, a note from the base camp." he flicks it into the fire. "A little insurance for a little girl who needs shelter from the cold. Well you won't need any of that here. Feel free to dry yourself and I'll bring you some stew."

"Thank you Preceptor." Kyra bows her head and walks slowly to the sauna. Unable to reach the ceiling with her injuries she drapes her clothing out on the benches and lays on the row nearest the fire pit.

Take the soil for example. In the paw some will always fall through the cracks to the ground. Consider society like my palm. Each grain of soil able to sprout a mighty tree when held together. It is our customs, those I teach you today and every day that hold us together. Do not however blame the dirt that falls from my hand. It is impossible for anyone to hold the whole world before them. If I can not, neither could any of you you. Do not forget this. Take pity on the fallen. Show them mercy. You can not hold the world. But you can lift some of it if you try.

Kyra meditates on the passage. Have I truly fallen? Is it right for someone to pick me up? She catches a tear rolling down her cheek through her whiskers. No, Miran I have not fallen.

The preceptor arrives and sits beside her the hot bowl of stew still steaming as he sets it down between them. "You've had it bad haven't you. What happened after you left here?", he pulls a spoon from his waste-band and places it beside the bowl. "Don't look at me like that, I remember you. I never forget a face. Not a lot of workers stop to hear the lessons of an old man. Everyone is in such a hurry these days."

Kyra sighs and looks away from him.

The preceptor places his hand on her shoulder momentarily before pulling a bit of melting ice from her hair. "Take your time. I'll be here all night. I practically run the place now you know." He rises from the bench and begins hanging her clothing for her to dry. "When you're dry, I'll help you up the stairs. You can spend the night here in the hostle. No use leaving now. In your condition you probably wont make it back to Aht'Regania tonight."

"He called me a thief."

"She speaks." He smiles at her and takes a seat by her side.

"Korzon, he lied so I had to sleep outside. I was under a cart when, I don't know why, but he came out and called the guards. Said I was a thief and then kicked me in the rips." She starts to cry but manages to stifle the tears at the last moment.

The preceptor sigh's in contemplation. "Well, your more than welcome to stay here until your feeling better. I won't hold it against you."

She looks into his eyes with desperation. "What would Miran think?"

"Hah, Miran would think all society has gone to mad. Dear, Miran has bigger problems these days than you and me sadly. So as long as you keep quiet about it I won't tell her either. Everyone needs a little help now and again."

Kyra smiles for the first time in what seems like forever.

. . .

"Come on you gotta eat something." Minetz pushes the bowl across the table to Renno.

"I'm not eating anything out of that." He turns away from it.

"I made it my self, there's no meat in it I promise."

They are interrupted by a knock at the door. Before they can answer it Tharen shouts from outside. "Open up, I here to talk to Kyra."

Minetz talks to him from the other side of the door. "Shes not here yet."

"Tell her I don't care where she thinks she is. I need to talk to her."

"I'm telling the truth, shes hasn't been here yet." Minetz shouts back through the door at him.

"You won't let me in so I can see for myself?"

"I didn't fix the door yet. Open it yourself and see." Minetz calls back to him with a sort of childish stubbornness.

Tharen pushes his way in. "Kyra?" he calls out.

"I told you shes not here."

"Well shes not at Whitehall either," frustraited he adds. "Shes always has to make everything so difficult. She better not be in trouble I swear."

Minetz clenches his paws and pulls down on his ears. "Kyra is fine, shes the best." He releases his ears and they spring back into their upright position.

Tharen puts on half a smile. "I wish I could have just a small piece of your optimism."

Minetz pulls out his medallion. "I'll keep all my pieces to myself thank you." He sticks his tongue out at Tharen.

Renno stifles a laugh quietly watching from above.

Tharen finds there is nothing more to be done here and departs. The door scrapes shut

With that Minetz bounds up the stairs to rejoin Renno. He scoops the bowl from the table and offers it up to him. "Eat eat."

Renno brushes him and sighs. A stern expression of frustration returns to his face. "Can't you just leave me alone? I'm going to bed." Renno storms off for the loft leaving his vegetable soup behind untouched.

. . .

For the first time since leaving home Kyra awakens on comfortable bedding of linen covered straw on the third floor of the lodge. She looks around the empty room. The preceptor and other workers have already left to perform their duties. Her clothing rests folded by the door. She picks up her shirt, it has been cleaned although somewhat poorly.The preceptor must have tried to wash it for me. She holds it close and takes a deep breath before putting it on. Still torn and stained from her journey it has a pleasant clean smell to it.

Outside a cart rolls empty up the hill away from the camp. It's load, fresh coal for the winter months from Ath'Regania sits in a pile by the roadside. The workers each take their turn shoveling it into buckets carrying it away to be stored. The sun shines bright in the valley the snow and ice glimmer from above. Kyra takes a deep breath the air is exceptionally cold left behind by the storms.

"Kyra." The faint familiar voice of the Preceptor nearly lost in the sound of the falls calls to her. "Kyra, by Miran back inside. Rest." He rushes to meet her at the door.

Kyra waits patiently for him at the stop of the steps for him to arrive. "Thank you, but quite honestly I need to get home. I have friends there who need my help. I also need to see if my deliveries made it through."

He waives his paw dismissively. "Nonsense, I can give you work here in a few weeks once you heal up."

"I though you didn't actually own the camp."

"Yes, well no. Not officially but the owner, poor old Tias. Hes been bed ridden for months now. I'm afraid he won't live to see the spring. I'm in charge for now."

Kyra looks at him questioningly. "He wasn't in the hostile this morning."

"No, he sleeps in the basement. He's afraid travelers will think him ill and not want to stay."

A moment of silence passes between them before being interrupted by a thunderous cracking sound. A large chunk of ice slides loose in the pool before the falls and is pushed several feet on shore. The rivers surface has completely frozen over at the pool before the falls. Ice has begun to pile up on its surface from the rapids.

After the moment of fascination has passed Kyra is first to break the silence. "Thank you for your kind offer, but I need to go home."

The Preceptor puts his paw on top of her head and scratches her ears. "Good luck to you then. May Miran see you through."

Kyra looks up at him and smiles. "Thank you."

Warm and rested Kyra takes her leave the first part of her journey up the winding path along the rapids. The path hard and slick from the last run of carts but still shy of being hard enough for her claws to be of much use. Falling every so often each time taking the wind from her lungs she is exhausted by the top. The vast river valley ahead of her seems to stretch on forever.

Don't allow your strength to go untested. It is through sacrifice and hard work that we improve. Do not fear rest. We all must rest from time to time to rebuild our strength. However, idle paws are wasteful. If you have the gift of strength to spare use it.

The few hours of winter daylight draw out her journey. Her the pads of her hind paw's ache she limps by alternating which leg to put her weight on. The clear skys mock her for the sun does nothing to ease the bitter cold only worsening as it sets. The glare blinds her.

Kyra turns away from the wind the hood of her cloak doing what little it can to protect her body from the cold. Her work as a courier was not enough to prepare her for the hardship of this journey even without her injuries pushing the cart back to town would have been a challenge at this point she is unsure she would have the strength to succeed at.

The sun falls below the forest canopy outside of town. The trees welcome her, their tall thick needle covered branches embrace Kyra offering protection from the wind. She makes her way to the east gate and lowers her hood for the guards. Kyra shambles past them. They pay her little mind.

_Rivaus._The only thing on her mind. She walks slowly into the trade quarter. The streets are full of merchants.

The quarter now at it's most critical hour. The sound of wheels clattering across the cobbles as the merchants busy themselves storing their carts away for the morning and making deals to restock their wares for the day ahead.

_Over there._Her gaze narrows on some familiar faces from the trip to the coast near one of the warehouses. A two story building with wide doors to let cars in and out.

Kyra pulls her hood over her head as she approaches. The workers preoccupied meeting with the demands of merchants. She slips inside unnoticed. The dimly lit warehouse before her bares little evidence of her shipments. The carts empty in their stalls. After a short look around she calls out his name. "Rivaus!"

A moment passes, the only sound is the muffled commotion of vendors in the streets outside. The lowers her hood and prepares to shout again when a door at the end of the warehouse slowly cracks open. Around it peers the curious face of Korzon.

Kyra tenses up with fear in no condition to confront him. She takes a deep breath and stands her ground. Before either of them can speak he is pushed out of the way from behind. The door fly's open. It is Rivaus.

"Explain yourself, why are you in my warehouse?" he bellows in the form of a statement rather than a question.

"I've come to see to my shipments." she says as formally as possible leaning over from exhaustion wearing what amounts to little more than tattered rags as this point.

"You have no shipments here. Your goods were forfeit the moment you ran off leaving me to hire another in the middle of the night."

Furious she breaks demeanor and shouts back at him. "What about your responsibility you contemptible con-artist. You have a responsibility to your workers don't you? You stood by and did nothing while this lech and his brother harassed me the entire trip," she marches forward across the warehouse towards Rivaus. "By Miran you act ignorant of the fact that he assaulted me in the night, drunk and worthless. He laid false accusations and when that didn't work to his satisfaction he kicked me in the ribs as I sit on the frozen muddied ground I was forced to sleep on thanks to his lies." Kyra marches up the small flight of steps to the platform where Rivuas and Korzon now stand.

Before she can get another word out it is Korzon who breaks first. "Enough." he shouts and pushes her backwards.

Kyra stumbles her arm flails out clawing into the wood of the wall. She leaves deep claw marks in the wood. It slows her but still unable to keep her balance she falls to the bottom of the step onto the dirt floor.

Rivaus approaches Korzon from behind and shoves him over the step to join her on the floor. He flails finding nothing for his claws to sink into and lands much harder than Kyra.

Rivaus commands him. "Get back in the warehouse. I'll die before a boy like you fights my battles for me."

Korzon collects him self and walks shamefully up the steps back through the door into the interior of the store room.

Kyra sits on the floor holding her sides.

Rivaus walks down the steps furious.

Kyra unwilling to back down now. "Give me my goods."

Rivaus grabs her by her short black hair and pulls her to her feet.

Kyra flails but it is of little use the pain of her injuries rob her of the strength to break free.

Rivaus drags her across the warehouse to the open door and tosses her unceremoniously into the street. He slams the door behind him.

Kyra lay there on the wet cold cobblestone crying softly. No one pays her any mind.

. . .

Inside the workshop a tense silence hangs in the air as Renno sits across the workbench from Minetz as the Thono enjoys a bowl of vegetable soup. Renno on the other hand continues his hunger strike.

"Are you sure,"

Renno cuts him off. "I will find my own food thank you."

Minetz sighs. "Your not going to find it in here."

Renno sighs back at him and crosses his arm.

Just then the back door opens and shuts without a knock or a word.

Minetz and Renno rush to the top of the step to see whats going on. What they find is Kyra. She walks into the corner of the lockers below and collapses on the floor facing the wall.

Minetz covers his mouth with his paws in shock.

Renno for once is the first to lay foot on the lower floor. He rushes to her side. "Are you okay?"

Kyra sniffles and replies quietly. "Leave me alone."

Renno puts his paws on her and attempts to roll her over to face him.

She brushes him off and raises her voice. "I said leave me alone."

"Don't be like that." Renno asserts himself. "You helped me now let me help you."

She elbows him away harshly. "I don't need your help."

Renno stands up and backs away from her. "Fine I've had enough of you Anorans anyway. I'm going to bed. He storms up the steps. At the top Minetz partially in his way stands silent. Renno pushes him casually out of the way and proceeds to the loft alone.

Some time later Minetz joins Kyra below. In his hands a hot bowl of stew for her. "Momma Kyra."

She does not respond. Her body moving with her breath indicate she lay awake.

Minetz kneels down beside her and sets the stew on the floor. Unsure what to say he strokes her hair.

She does not object.

"I'm sorry." he says and again receives no response.