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Going Home By Green A Commission for DumPaup

Thirteen-year-old Yori Hartmüt hurried out the back door of his forest-side home, an enormous, excited grin lighting up the young Iriomote cat's face. He made a beeline for the small building off to the side of his family's backyard, a squat, wide structure that was dwarfed by the three-story house in front of it, but still managed to fit a wide variety of exercise and aerobics equipment, not to mention a small personal office. Most homes didn't have personal training gyms, admittedly, but then, most homeowners weren't Svenn Hartmüt. Shoving the door open, he stepped inside, and the single occupant looked up with a gentle smile. "Time for training?" asked Ran, his peculiar eyes seeming totally calm and relaxed for a change of pace. Ran was Yori's best friend, but he was a little unorthodox compared to the other kids Yori knew. Ran, or rather, Running Water, was a tribal, a member of the Wyvram clan, which meant he looked more or less like a goat, with their trademark rectangular pupils and soft fleece... except for the patches of hard, glimmering scales placed here and there symmetrically around his body. The Wvyram taught their children (and bragged to anyone who would listen) that they'd inherited these scales by being descended from the mighty dragons of legend, though nobody really knew for sure. At the moment, he was poking at a well-worn punching bag, something Yori's father got a lot of use out of when he was home; the man was a professional lightweight boxer, well into the upper tiers of the professional league, and while this kept his family living quite comfortably, it also meant the cat had to spend a lot of time on the road. Which is why Yori was so very excited on this particular day. "Ran!" Yori cried, oblivious to the question, "You'll never guess what just happened! My Mom just told me that Dad called, and he said - he said -" Yori paused to catch his breath, having run at a full sprint to the gym. "...Dad said that his last win brought him up into the top ten, and he's gonna take some time off before he tries to go after the title! He's coming home to spend time with me and Mom!" Ran's eyes widened, and the little tribal began toying with his hands nervously. "He - he is?" he asked, "That's awesome! But, um..." He trailed off, and not because he'd only recently learned the language from spending so much time with Yori. This was pure hesitation on his part, unsure he wanted to say anything at all. Yori put a hand on his shoulder and smiled. "Don't worry about it, Ran. Okay, Dad's got some... old-fashioned ideas about tribals, but we just gotta catch him in a good mood, he's gonna love you," the cat said, reassuringly, "I'll introduce you to him when he gets here on the weekend, tell him all about how you saved me from Chet, and I saved you from those Wolfrave guys, everything will be fine." Blushing slightly, Ran smiled self-consciously. "You - you think so?" he asked. Before Yori could deliver the expected 'I know so', the door to the gym opened, and Yori's mother Anna leaned in. She'd met Ran several months earlier, after he'd saved Yori from an especially abusive bully, a dog named Chet Bauer, who'd been beating him mercilessly behind the house. "Yori!" she said, her tone just shy of 'stern', "I'm glad you're excited that your father's coming home, but you ran off without doing your chores! Happy news doesn't change anything, young man, you still need to help tidy up before you can practice your little moves with your friend." Yori pouted, but it didn't do much for his obvious enthusiasm for spending more time with his dad. If he were a dog, his tail would be wagging. "Okay, okay..." he said, "Ran, just, uh, practice the stances or something, I'll be out as soon as I can." Ran nodded and smiled pleasantly, and Yori and Anna left him alone. Turning to the punching bag, the tribal raised his arms into a defensive stance, and started bobbing and weaving, practicing his dodges and blocks. About an hour later, Yori still hadn't shown up, and Ran assumed his mother had him cleaning up the house more thoroughly than usual, as she sometimes did. When he finally heard the door open again, Ran turned around, happy to get started with something more exciting than hitting the bag alone. But he was surprised to find a stranger there instead of his best friend, a tall, muscular Iriomote cat with a pair of thick, heavy bags slung over his arms. He stepped inside, grinning and humming to himself, but his face fell and his eyes widened as he laid eyes upon the startled Wyvram boy.

Dropping the bags, the man, who could only be Svenn Hartmüt, scowled angrily, a most unappealing expression to be on the receiving end of. "Hey!" he shouted, "What the hell are you doing in here?! Get the fuck out!" He took a big step forward, his hands curling up at his side. Ran whimpered and stepped away; the last thing he wanted was to see a professional boxer making fists. "You hear me?!" Svenn bellowed, "This is my property! Get out, right the fuck now, or I'll make you sorry you ever left your fucking valley!" He started forward, and Ran was so terrified he couldn't even speak, in either of the languages he knew. He thought about making a break for the door, but it was behind Svenn, and he didn't favour his chances trying to duck around a man who'd spent his adult life training his reflexes. So instead, Ran let out a loud, prolonged squeal and bailed off to the side, ultimately leaping out a window the boys had opened because it was such a nice day. Unfortunately, no sooner had he gotten to his feet before he found Svenn bursting through the door, apparently wanting to make sure this little tribal didn't come back. He'd only taken a couple of steps when the back door to the house flew open and Yori came through, looking shocked. "Dad?!" he called, then saw what was happening and gasped. "Dad, no!" the cat yelled, running out to intercept him, "Wait!" A look of deepest confusion came over Svenn's face as his son ran over and stepped between him and the kneeling, trembling tribal. "Stop!" Yori cried, "Ran's my friend!" The big man stopped dead in his tracks, watching silently as Yori dropped to his knees and threw his arms around the goat-dragon, who was whimpering and keening, on the verge of bursting into tears. "It's okay, Ran, it's okay!" Yori said, forcefully, "He - he just didn't know you! He thought..." Yori trailed off, as it wasn't clear if Ran was even composed enough to listen, and just held him tight, whispering to him over and over that everything would be alright. The slender tribal whimpered in his arms and hugged him back, and Yori reluctantly looked over at his father, whose face was tight and unreadable. This wasn't exactly the joyous reunion he'd hoped for...

Shortly thereafter, Ran sat against the side of the house, hugging his knees to his chest, staring at the well-trimmed grass, as the Hartmüt family had a discussion on the other side of the window above him. He wasn't trying to spy on them - Yori had used the strange word 'eavesdropping' to describe it once - but he didn't make any effort to ignore them, either. "I have to admit," Svenn was saying, "when I decided to surprise you two by saying I wouldn't get back in until Saturday, I was thinking you'd be delighted when I got back today instead, maybe I'd catch you in the middle of cleaning. Finding a tribal hanging out in my gym because my son invited him there wasn't exactly the homecoming I had in mind." "Dad, you haven't even talked to Ran yet!" Yori protested, "He's really nice, wouldn't hurt a fly! His people actually sent him out here to toughen up because they think he's too nice, too trusting!" Svenn stopped his agitated pacing and sighed, kneeling before his son and laying a hand on his shoulder. "Son... I know he seems nice, but the tribals aren't like us," he said, gently, "You can't expect them to think or feel the same way we do, it can be dangerous." "But Dad!" Yori protested. Whatever he'd been planning to say, he didn't get the chance, as Svenn continued, his voice just a little sterner than before. "Yori, when I was a bit older than you are now, I went for a walk in another part of these very woods, and out of the blue, I ran into a few members of - of whichever tribe the boy is from -" "His name is Ran!" interrupted Yori, "And they're called the Wyvram!" "Fine, I ran into a few members of the Wyvram tribe, looking fluffy and scaly, just like 'Ran'," the older tomcat said, "I stopped in my tracks, held my hands up to show that they were empty, even got down on my knees to be less of a threat. And you know what happened?" Svenn stood then, and started unbuttoning his shirt. "They still attacked me. Rushed me and started punching and kicking me, and let me tell you, fists hurt when they're covered in scales. Then one of them pulled a knife, tried to kill me right then and there, and all I'd wanted was to go for a walk." Pulling his shirt open, Yori's father pointed to a scar just above his beltline, on the left side of his abdomen. "He nicked me before I could roll away," Svenn said, tracing the old scar with the tip of a finger, "If I hadn't started my training already, they probably would have gotten me, but when I saw that knife, I really let them have it," he said, "Managed to knock one of them out, and the others backed off long enough for me to run for it." Kneeling again, leaving his shirt hanging open, the cat looked into his son's eyes, worry and suspicion battling it out in his gaze. "I looked it up later on. That wasn't even their territory, they live out in the valley behind the forest. They just jumped me because I was different. Son, the tribals are people, and we should respect that, and they're even noble in their own, backwards way, but they're still barbarians, and their kind just aren't meant to mix with our kind. I'm sorry, but I don't want you to spend time with that boy anymore."

Outside, Ran whimpered and covered his face. Yori had grown to be his closest friend in the months that he'd known him, and now he was being taken away? "Dad, no!" Yori gasped, in horror, "You - you can't! He's my best friend!" Anna, who up until this point had been standing silently off to the side, finally interjected. "Svenn, I think you're overreacting a little," she said, "Ran is just a boy! I've never seen him do anything more aggressive than any other little boy might do while playing, and he saved Yori from that awful Chet Bauer. He's really been good for Yori, you can't just take that away from him because you had a bad experience with tribals years ago!" The man of the house sighed and closed his eyes for a long moment, face unreadable. "...I guess I'll talk this over some more with your mother," he finally said, "For now, you can keep playing with Ran, but you might want to prepare yourself to say goodbye. Maybe it's time he went back to his own people. Either way, this is my home, Yori, and I don't want to see that tribal in it, or my training room. Understand?" The boy sighed, but nodded somewhat reluctantly. "Y-yes, Dad." "Good." Yori started to leave, and Svenn sighed and called him back. "Wait! Yori, I..." Yori watched from the entrance to the living room as his father frowned and swallowed, uncharacteristically averting his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, with effort, "I'm sorry that I scared your friend, I thought he just snuck in, that was trying to find something to steal back to his people." That at least felt like his father was trying, so Yori nodded and managed a smile that didn't feel convincing. "Okay, Dad..." He turned and left, making a beeline for the back door.

As he stepped outside, Yori only seemed a little surprised to find Ran sitting against the wall, waiting for him. He smiled at the goat-dragon, who couldn't find it within himself to return the gesture, and sat down next to him. After a long, quiet moment, Yori cleared his throat. "Dad said..." he started, trailing off awkwardly. Ran let him off the hook. "I heard most of it," said the tribal. Yori tensed up, then nodded. "...I'm sorry, buddy," the cat whispered, "He just... he doesn't understand. He won't - I don't know how to - If he'd just talk to you... shit!" Ran looked at his friend in surprise. Yori had told him that that particular word was incredibly rude, and that his parents would not approve if they overheard either of the boys using it. "No wonder you have trouble learning our crummy language!" the cat pouted, looking away, "I can't even find the words to say... whatever it is I mean!" After a moment, Ran reached out and put his hand on the Iriomote's shoulder. "Yori..." he said, then fell silent, not sure what to say. When Yori looked back, Ran was taken aback to see that the other boy's eyes were glistening like he was fighting off tears. "You know what? Forget what Dad said!" Yori whispered, anger tingeing his voice, "You're my best friend, Ran, even if Dad says I can't see you anymore, we'll still find a way to meet up, I promise! You - you remember how the shelter you were supposed to stay in was empty, like those stupid Wolfrave had moved out? M-maybe we could meet there, or at that giant tree we carved our names into..." Ran surprised the cat by suddenly lunging over and hugging him tight. "Thank you..." Ran whispered, his voice unexpectedly tight, "I - I don't want to lose you, Yori..." His feline friend whimpered and returned the hug. The two of them just held each other for a while, and Ran couldn't help but realize just how nice it felt to be in Yori's arms, to feel the warmth of another person against him. He hadn't felt this comforted by a hug from anyone except his mother before, but... that was comforting in a different way, somehow. The tribal boy didn't really spend any time dwelling on it, he just accepted that he felt good, and that was that. For now...

After a long, warm, quiet time, the goat-dragon broke the silence again. "Yori, I..." Ran hesitated, and then forced himself to say what was on his mind. "Your father is wrong about my people... but he was right about one thing..." he said, "I think... I should go back to the Wyvram, at least to let them know that the Trouble Trio are back." "What?!" exclaimed the other boy, "I - I thought you said you'd be exiled for contacting m- outsiders!" Ran shrugged, scratching at the back of his neck self-consciously. "Well... nobody from the tribe actually knows that happened, so it might not happen... but even if it does, I should really go back and face it like a man." Seeing the look of horror growing across Yori's face, the goat-dragon quickly added "But don't worry! I promise the same as you!" When horror was replaced by confusion, Ran wrote it off to his language issues, and tried again. "I promise that even if the village chieftain forbids me from ever coming back, I'll find a way to see you!" Yori smiled, visibly relaxing, and he nodded. "Well then, it's settled," the cat said, "It's gonna take a lot more than our families to break us up!"

* * *

A few days later, Ran found himself following some old, familiar paths, deep, deep in Everschade Forest, farther than Yori had ever gone. Grown-ups on that side of the forest actually discouraged their kids from coming here, because these paths were on the very outskirts of tribal territory. Indeed, as he walked, Ran's practiced eye started catching sight of small carvings on the sides of trees here and there, carvings which announced to those in the know that this was Wyvram territory, and you were expected to play by their rules now. He'd been walking for ages now, and that whole time, his mind had been full of confusing thoughts. Why were his people so dead set against making contact with the city-dwelling outsiders? Yori and his family seemed perfectly nice - well, at least his mother did. Ran had to admit, between Yori, his mother and father, and Chet Bauer, a full half of the outsiders he'd met actually did seem dangerous and aggressive... what if he was in the wrong? What if the kindness shown by Yori and Anna was the exception, not the rule? Or worse, what if his happy, caring friend Yori was going to turn into an untrusting, hostile jerk like his father as he grew older? But even before that could happen, would the Wyvram really exile Ran just for befriending the cat? Somehow, though, as he pondered these things, Ran's mind kept slipping off of worrying and fretting, and just lingered on Yori himself. The other boy made him feel comfortable in a way that none of his friends or family ever had; the other children his age liked to take advantage of his trusting nature and lead him into pranks, and while they did love him, and provided him with a warm, nurturing home, his family still frequently reminded Ran of his shortcomings as a Wyvram, in the hopes that he could learn to overcome them. But Yori... Yori just accepted Ran as he was, trusted Ran as implicitly as Ran trusted him, even though they were from two different worlds. Deep down, Ran was certain that Yori could never become a threat, no matter how he changed as he grew up. And there was something about Yori's smile, about his laugh, and especially about his hugs that made the young goat-dragon feel warm inside. He smiled to himself just thinking about it, feeling better about returning home, until he caught himself idly wondering how nice it might be to share a bed with Yori, cuddling with the cat until they both fell asleep. Startled as he caught up with his own train of thought, Ran froze in his tracks, his ears standing up straight in surprise as he blushed as hard as he could ever remember blushing before. Where had that thought come from? He must have been more homesick than he thought...

Before Ran had much time to think about that, a voice cut through the quiet of the forest, a pleasantly surprised voice in a language he hadn't heard in months. "Running Water? It is you!" Looking up from his feet and his thoughts, Ran smiled as he saw a familiar face. The village chieftain, a man named Booming Thunder, stood a ways down the path, still standing tall despite his age, leaning only slightly on the elaborately-carved walking staff that was a symbol of his office. The older goat-dragon chuckled and came forward, and Ran hurried to meet him, as was polite, doing more of the work himself. The elder reached forward and Ran clasped both of his hands around his leader's respectfully. "It's good to see you, boy," said the chieftain, sounding like he meant it, "But... you shouldn't be coming back to the village yet, you were supposed to..." He trailed off and moved to stroke the fleecy beard which grew straight down from underneath his chin, like a feral goat's. "The others may doubt your bravery, but I never doubted your dedication," he said, frowning, "Something must have happened to send you back this way before you were told to." Booming Thunder reached out and laid a hand on Ran's shoulder, and he didn't have to bend down in the slightest to do so. Ran had had to crane his neck to make eye contact with Yori's mother, but the chieftain was barely taller than Ran himself; truth be told, as a general rule, the Wyvram didn't do much growing, vertically anyway, after they reached puberty. That was a big part of why Yori's tall, furious, muscular father had been one of the most terrifying things the poor tribal had ever seen. Now, Ran nodded self-consciously. "Yes, elder," he responded, quietly. "What was it? Did outsiders chase you out of the shelter with their horrible weapons? Did they try to capture you?" the chieftain pressed, "There's no shame in running to evade the city-dwellers, lad." Ran bit his lip and thought for a moment, but he couldn't bring himself to outright lie to the village chieftain. He'd always liked Ran anyway, and the boy had a feeling that the sympathetic chieftain would actually be more likely than his own family to forgive him for coming into contact with the other world. So he somewhat reluctantly shook his head and told the truth. How the Trouble Trio - three dangerous members of the Wolfrave tribe, exiled for breaking their clan's laws - had been squatting in the shelter, how they'd beaten him without mercy, and how Yori Hartmüt had saved his life and brought him back to his home to recover, before he'd returned the favour by attacking the bully Chet Bauer. He did leave out the part where he'd been playing with and frequently hugging Yori, but told himself that that wasn't strictly a lie. After all, he hadn't asked for that information, right?

The chieftain kept stroking his beard and nodding, but said nothing throughout Ran's entire explanation - though his lips did tighten and his eyes narrowed slightly when Ran told him about being brought, unconscious, to Yori's home. When the boy finally finished, Booming Thunder let out a deep breath and closed his eyes for just a moment. "I'm glad you came back, we didn't know that those three thieving Wolfrave were back in our territory," he said, "and I don't see how a boy your age could have done better against three grown men." He opened his eyes, and there was genuine concern in them. "But Running Water, you have to be careful who you speak to of this," the chieftain continued, "I understand that there was nothing you could have done at the time to prevent this boy, this Yo-ri, from taking you to his home, but there are those in our tribe so afraid of the outsiders that they would consider you tainted from this, especially if they learned you had stayed of your own choice while you recovered, to say nothing of the fact that you learned some of their language... My son, listen to your chieftain very carefully: the others will want to know why you have returned, and you will tell them, but in this case, it is for their good and yours that you... paint a different picture than the one you've just told me." The chieftain turned around and started walking back in the direction of the village, motioning for Ran to join him. "When you tell them what happened, tell them that... that after this outsider - do not tell them you know his name - after this boy brought you to his home and bandaged you, that you fled - escaped - the first time you regained consciousness, and you've spent the time since then recovering wherever you could find shelter. There's no need to upset the villagers by telling them you've been spending time in the outside, do you understand me?" Ran swallowed anxiously and nodded. "Y-yes, sir." The two tribesmen walked in silence for a while, and before too long, the trees parted, and the closest entrance to the village that had been Ran's home for thirteen years came into view. The young Wyvram found himself feeling a strange mixture of anxiety and nostalgia. Picking up on this, Booming Thunder smiled and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "It will be alright, Running Water, there's no need to be so nervous," he said, "Whatever they may think of the outside, the Wyvram are still your family." Ran managed to smile back and nod... he just wished he were as sure of that as the elder.

Soon enough, the two of them were passing through the western gates, the two men on guard duty nodding respectfully to the chieftain as he entered. The village itself had no name; the majority of the entire Wyvram tribe chose to live here, so they just called it 'our home', and to the other clans of the vast wild area the outsider governments had set aside for the tribals, this place was simply 'the Wyvram tribe village', in the heart of their territory. Ran had to admit, as he looked around and saw many of his own people, other goat-dragons with a wide variety of appearances - mostly in the placement and hue to their scales and fleece - working and talking, children running and playing in the sunlight, he actually did feel better, felt his kinship with these people on an instinctive level that he didn't share with the cat boy he so often had trouble understanding. Well-worn pathways in the soil served as roads between the many and varied homes, fashioned from wood and a form of mudcraft in whatever shapes they needed, though most tended to be either cylindrical or conical. Each building was adorned with a quilt or cloth hanging outside, and each quilt bore its own unique pattern. Some of these were simply signs, advertising a form of commerce or service to be found inside, but the ones that hung on the actual houses were more meaningful than that; since Wyvram names were ways of honouring the natural world, each family in the tribe represented themselves with a quilted pattern unique to them and no one else. Indeed, one of the very first things newly married Wyvram took pleasure in doing was weaving a new quilt incorporating elements of both of their prior family patterns, to be passed down to their children. It wasn't just on the homes to mark who lived there, either; nearly every single person they passed bore their family pattern on one article of clothing or other. Running Water looked down to the faded, slightly frayed shawl he wore across one side of his chest, and nostalgically ran his fingers over it. His parents had passed away when he was younger, and though the Wyvram had raised him as a community after that, he had always taken great pride in living in their home and wearing their pattern on his clothes. Yori, not having any idea of the significance of the pattern, had written it off as just a scarf, or something called an 'ascot' - Ran mentally reminded himself to ask about that the next time they were together - and barely paid any attention to it at all. The path the two of them took brought them closer and closer to the middle of town, and as they walked, the buildings grew larger and stronger. Given their especially xenophobic history, the Wyvram coveted the homes closer to the centre of the village, as living there made one much less likely to encounter people from other tribes... or outsiders. Naturally, this meant that the buildings further inwards were older and better reinforced against the weather. But in this case, it also meant that as they walked, the people they passed stopped just acknowledging Booming Thunder, who everyone in town knew, and started peering curiously at Ran. They were getting close to the part of town where Ran had once lived... before the tribe had decided it was in his best interest to ship him off to that distant shelter in order to toughen him up with survival training, and gave his parents' home to a newly-married couple.

Eventually, they met with a number of people, important members of the tribe, as well as Ran's aunt Shining Flower and her husband Rolling Stone, who had been the closest thing he'd had to parents while the whole community was chipping in to help him grow up a proper Wyvram. Meeting in a private building, Ran forced himself not to cower as some of these higher-ups in the tribe questioned why he had returned so early, and then he swallowed his words rather than grumpily ask them why he hadn't been accompanied by a mentor to keep him safe out in the woods. Normally, only adults went on the Trial of Isolation by themselves, to prove their worth or redeem themselves for some failing, children were to be accompanied by an adult to help them grow in their journey to be stronger, and to make sure they didn't get themselves killed; Booming Thunder had wanted to join Ran, but the village chieftain, more than most, cannot just set his responsibilities to his people aside for months at a time, and so, with no one else volunteering for the task, he'd reluctantly agreed to send Running Water away by himself. Using every ounce of his strength to appear calm and composed, Ran told the assembled council his story, including the alterations the chieftain had suggested. The oldest elder on the council was an ancient goat-dragon named Climbing Ivy, and Ran wasn't sure if she personally disliked him, or if she just disliked everyone. Either way, he was genuinely surprised to see her perpetual scowl melt away into a look of concern as he told them about being brought to an outsider's home while unconscious. "By the spirits, boy, I'm so sorry!" she interrupted, "Beaten by thugs and captured by barbarians! Did they - did they hurt you? Did they perform any of their 'tests'?" She said the outsider word with a face that suggested she had bitten into a fruit and found it rotten. Ran lowered his head and closed his eyes, trying to look pained and sad, because he knew he couldn't sell this properly while making eye contact. "No... there was just one, a boy, I got away before any others showed up," he lied, "I awoke covered in strange, sticky linens... I think he believed he was helping. It was... it was awful." When he looked up again, he dared to glance over at the chieftain, who nodded ever-so-slightly without changing his facial expression. Ran's news about the Trouble Trio, combined with the nature of his 'escape' and recovery, clearly earned the council's forgiveness for technically failing the challenge they'd set him before he began, and the idea that he'd survived in the woods for months without even staying in the shelter seemed to impress most of the councillors, but there were still leery glances and looks of distrust from some of them.

When he was done, they murmured amongst themselves for a while before speaking up to address the room. "Chieftain," said Rushing Wind, an elder Ran had never really had any contact with, "There are tales that amongst the outsiders, there are those who do not grow properly, who remain the size of one of their children, even as adults. With respect, how can we be sure this 'boy' wasn't one of these creatures?" Ran frowned. "I heard him speak," he said, quickly adding "I didn't understand any of the words, but his voice was very high-pitched, like a child's!" He suddenly felt a moment of panic, worried he'd be punished for speaking out of turn, but no one responded. A woman across the room scratched at the fleece on her shoulder and frowned slightly. "Hmm... whether it was a boy or a child-sized-man, how do we know these strange bandages weren't part of some test or outsider deception?" she asked, "They say that the outsiders have poisons and devices that can affect and control your very mind!" Snorting derisively, Booming Thunder shook his head. "And the last time we came into contact with them, the outsiders believed that our dragon blood meant we could fly and breathe fire!" he said, his strong, proud voice reminding all present that he lived up to his name, "Let's not let fear turn us against this boy just because he had the bad luck to end up so hurt that even an outsider thought to help him." The doomsayers seemed mollified, but not entirely convinced, and there were a few mistrustful glares sent in Ran's direction when the chieftain wasn't looking. With the explanations out of the way, it was quickly decided that Ran couldn't be sent back to the shelter, not with the Trouble Trio roaming the forest, so Running Water would stay with his uncle and aunt while the council figured out whether or not he'd been tainted by the outside world, and what to do about the dangerous Wolfrave somewhere on their territory. With the meeting adjourned, Booming Thunder took Running Water aside and suggested that over the next few days, he could earn back some favour with the tribe by doing odd jobs around the village, and gave him a few ideas of where to start. When Ran agreed, the chieftain said he would make the arrangements, and told Ran not to worry. The boy tried to follow this advice, but worrying was something he did very well, and he couldn't help but be reminded that even his name made him feel something like an outcast. He'd often been teased that he was called 'Running Water' because he preferred to flee from challenges instead of facing them, to run away crying when things got difficult, unlike the strong, brave response a proper Wyvram was expected to have. So he would help out around the village as best he could, but deep down, Ran couldn't help but wonder whether he really didn't belong here after all...

Unfortunately, the tasks didn't go as smoothly as Ran and Booming Thunder had hoped. First, the boy was asked to clean out the village's communal pool, where the Wyvram would ritualistically bathe themselves to purify both body and mind, and become closer to the spirits. It needed to be cleaned out once a week, a process that was a ritual in itself, consisting of running a cleansing rod - essentially a massive, long-handled rake made from tough, woven hay - through the shallow water while lifting foreign objects out and murmuring occasional praise to the spirits. Vitally important during this ritual is that no one, not even the cleaner with the rod, touch the water itself until the cleansing is complete, as it is said to bring poor luck to their family, and serve as a bad omen for the entire tribe. Things were actually going well, the rod was relatively light so Ran had little trouble maneuvring it through the water, but it was fairly mindless work, and the quiet Wyvram found himself distracted by the last family who had bathed before he started. Their very young daughter, a girl named Melting Honey, ran giggling from the area while she was still naked and dripping wet, and her mother chased after her while her father tried not to laugh. As the girl's mother's stern cries suggested, she was annoyed because Melting Honey was soaking wet and might drip on their new quilts if she ran home, not because she was naked; the Wyvram are very casual and open about such things, as indicated by the existence of the communal pool in the first place. This got Ran's mind wandering, as it reminded him of how surprisingly self-conscious outsiders seemed to be about such things, and how incredibly embarrassed Yori had been when Ran innocently asked him if they could bathe together so that the cat could show him how the mysterious 'shower' device worked. With his thoughts pre-occupied, Ran didn't notice as some children who were slightly younger than he was snuck up behind him. They were several inches shorter than him, but they all grabbed him at once as one of them shouted that Running Water needed to purify himself extra-carefully since he'd been an outsider's pet while he was away, and as one, they heaved the horrified Ran forward, straight into the water with a mighty splash. As he was quickly surrounded by appalled tribesmen and women, Ran tried offering apologies - not excuses, even though it hadn't been his fault, for fear of that being seen as weakness - but as the poolkeeper attempted to placate the spirits and Ran hurried out of the area, everywhere he didn't see fear and worry for what this omen might mean, he saw suspicion and disdain from those who were more concerned with blaming him.

Even as Ran trembled with worry, he reassured himself that the other tasks, at the very least, didn't have the potential to be seen as disastrous portents to the rest of the tribe. Well, he tried to, anyway. It was hard not to dwell. The second task involved gathering crops, specifically a red flowering herb called Ramweiss that the Wyvram found rather delicious, whether mixed into meals or enjoyed by itself for its soft, chewy goodness. But when he showed up on his second day in the village and found the farmer who was to lead him to the fields he was to harvest from, a man named Cresting Wave, the older Wyvram seemed rather distracted by the affections of his husband, Whistling Wind. Unlike the outsiders, most of the tribes in the wildlands had never been especially hung up on who a person happened to love - provided they were a member of the same tribe or one their people were on friendly terms with, of course - so this bothered Ran only in that it got in the way of him accomplishing his goal. "C-come on, Wind," the farmer half-heartedly protested, as his mate teased him from behind with kisses to the neck, "The kid's right there, and I need to go help him anyway!" As Cresting Wave turned around, putting his hands on his hips and trying to look stern, the other male just chuckled playfully and began running his fingers through his lover's fleece. Ran, meanwhile, was carefully studying the floor beneath his feet, as if he found the construction of storage sheds absolutely fascinating. The blush, he couldn't do much about. "He's a big boy, he'll be fine," said Whistling Wind assuredly, "He doesn't need you to hold his hand the whole way, right kid? Just tell him where the field is and give him a collection basket or two." Cresting Wave let out a noise halfway between a groan and a growl, clearly torn between his duty to the tribe and the playful man teasing him shamelessly. In the end, Whistling Wind's gentle hands won out, and after letting out a submissive bleat, a deeply blushing Cresting Wave shoved his lover away long enough to give an almost-as-embarrassed Ran instructions on how to reach the Ramweiss field, and how to pull the plants from the ground, which was fortunately fairly idiot-proof. With that, a grateful Ran hurried out of the shed, to the sound of Cresting Wave chewing out his husband for embarrassing him in public like that... in between wet, hungry kisses.

The path was pretty easy to follow, aside from a fork in a small wooded region Ran didn't think Cresting Wave had mentioned, but soon enough he found himself coming out of the trees to a large, well-maintained field of red flowers in neat rows. Sighing happily, confident he could take care of this and please the tribe for a change, Running Water sat himself down next to the nearest row, enjoying the feeling of the warm sun on his sky-blue scales, as well as on the 'leotard' of fleece on his abdomen... he hadn't asked Yori exactly what a leotard was, but he'd assumed it was shaped like his wool pattern, and been satisfied with that. For the next while, he let his mind wander as he busied himself carefully plucking the Ramweiss out of the soil and gathering it in his baskets, going as far as to shake the excess dirt off before he did. It wasn't very difficult work, but it was still work, and after a while, he started getting hungry, though he steadfastly refused to eat any of the plants he was harvesting, as it wouldn't be right. Besides, he wouldn't put it past the council to have someone watching him from the treeline. Eventually, when the baskets were full, he stood up, holding one against each hip, and walked back to the village, taking great care where he stepped, lest he lose his balance and spill the herbs across the ground. The boy was tired and hungry, but he couldn't help but smile proudly as he approached the shed. He didn't think he'd want to be a farmer for the rest of his life, but he actually felt like he'd accomplished something for the tribe, which was a nice feeling for the young goat-dragon. He gingerly peeked around the edge of the entrance to the shed, and was relieved to not find anything he'd be yelled at for walking in on. He didn't need a repeat of what happened when he met the Trouble Trio...

But no, Cresting Wave was counting their supplies of grain and vegetables by himself. He seemed quite pleased to see Ran walking in with the baskets of Ramweiss, coming forward and squatting down. "Well done, Running Water!" he said, chuckling, "This is a nice harvest. Ah... Look, I'm really sorry about, you know, leaving you to go to the field by yourself. I, uh, I really should have shown you the path myself, and stuck around to make sure you were okay alone. It's just that some people don't know when to stay professional..." Here he threw a dirty look at his husband, who was walking in with a basket of potatoes. Whistling Wind grinned shamelessly and winked back. Ran chuckled and beamed proudly at Cresting Wave. "It's alright, sir, I found the field pretty easy with your directions," he said. After adding the potatoes to the village stores, Whistling Wind snatched a single Ramweiss plant out of Ran's basket and popped the herb into his mouth. "Let's enjoy the fruits of your labours, huh, kid?" he asked, happily, "Mmmm, it's really sweet, I wonder if they did something different this time..." Cresting Wave bent down and took hold of one of Ran's baskets to help him carry the plants as his husband continued chewing thoughtfully. "Definitely fresh, this is, ah... this is..." the man trailed off and squinted his eyes slightly, as if trying to focus on something in the distance. Cresting Wave looked over at him, one ear cocked to the side in curiosity as a funny look came over his husband's face. "Wind? You okay, hon?" he asked, gently. Whistling Wind made a dismissive gesture, but he still wasn't looking straight at anything. "Sure, sure, I just... there's a flavour here that's hard to place, it's actually getting kind of spicy the more I chew it..." Putting his basket down on the floor, the concerned farmer started walking towards the other man. "Did you say spicy?" asked Cresting Wave. His husband took a step back, and Ran was surprised to see that he was reddening all over his face, far more than a simple blush would explain. "My lands, this is hot..." muttered Whistling Wind, "Wave, I... I..." as he trailed off, the Wyvram took another hesitant step backwards, but his leg gave out as he put his weight on it, so Whistling Wind toppled over, landing on his back with a heavy oof.

"Wind!" gasped Cresting Wave, running over to his mate as Running Water let out a cry of surprise and panic. What was happening? Surely he was smart enough not to have eaten that Ramweiss if he was allergic to it! He hurried over to Whistling Wind as Cresting Wave knelt down next to his husband and lifted his head onto his thigh, cradling him gently. "Do you hear me, my love?" the farmer asked gently but firmly, receiving only a groan in reply. "Spit it out," he continued, "Spit it out now." Whistling Wind, who was visibly sweating by now, turned his head to the side and obediently spat out the chewed-up plant mush onto the floor. "It... it still... Ohhhhh... It burns..." he murmured, closing his eyes tightly and shaking his head. Cresting Wave held him close and scratched at a patch of fleece on his chest. "I know it does, and I'm afraid it's gonna stay that way for a while," he said, soothingly, "But it's not going to be as bad as if you'd swallowed it, so just hang in there, Wind, I'm gonna go get a healer, see if we can't make it easier on you." After helping his husband scootch over to the wall so he could lean against it, Cresting Wave turned to Running Water, his gaze neither judgemental nor worried, which frankly surprised the boy. "Where did you say you harvested these plants?" he asked, moving back over to the basket. Retrieving an herb from one of them, he made a face and shook his head. "I - I followed the directions just like you said!" Ran protested, "They were all laid out in rows in tilled soil and everything!" Walking back over, the farmer held out the plant to Ran and pointed to one of its flowering petals. "You see those pale dots?" he asked, gently, "This isn't Ramweiss, Running Water, this is Dragonweed. It's much, much spicier, too spicy for most Wyvram to handle, knocks us on our a- rears, like poor Wind over there. But it looks almost exactly like Ramweiss, so most of us farmers call it 'Foolsweiss'. Ramweiss has solid red petals, you see, no dots at all. 'Leaves complete, it's a treat. Leaves with spot, it is not.' That's how we remember." That was interesting, but Ran wasn't especially concerned with that right now. "But - but - it was in farmer's rows, I swear!" he protested, his lower lip wobbling. The farmer looked confused for a moment, clearly thinking things over, and then smacked his own forehead with the heel of his hand. "Gah! I forgot the fork in the path! You - you went right, didn't you?" When Ran nodded, Cresting Wave cursed under his breath. "I'm sorry, Running Water, you should have gone left. We let the Frogwing tribe use the land you found to grow crops in exchange for their help in the big harvest at the end of the year. Their stomachs are hardier than ours, they like the taste of Foolsweiss." Ran was horrified, suddenly worried that not only had he failed another task, but that he'd accidentally angered another tribe entirely by stealing their crops. Seeing the look on his face, Cresting Wave waved dismissively. "Don't worry, boy, this is my fault, not yours. We'll send runners with the baskets to the Frogwing, they're pretty good-natured, probably just laugh it off and thank us for doing the work for them." He nodded in the direction of his husband, still slumped against the wall. "Come on, let's go get a healer for my dear, misguided Wind," Cresting Wave said, putting a hand on Ran's shoulder and smiling slightly, "Heh, almost serves him right for distracting me in the first place."

Cresting Wave tried to play it off as a learning experience for both of them, and didn't seem mad at all, but Ran felt a deep worry in the pit of his stomach as they retrieved a healer, who used a special tonic to take the edge off of Whistling Wind's self-induced fever and bring him out of his dazed state. He was shaky and unhappy as he stood up, but either he didn't blame Ran for his condition, or he was too weak and ill to muster up anger yet. Either way, Ran made himself scarce and laid low in the village until the next day, when the time came to fulfil his third task. This brought him to the village 'leathersmiths'. The Wyvram were strict herbivores, honouring their goat ancestry, but they did on occasion hunt animals for their pelts in order to fashion them into clothing, simple armour, and even weapons; taking advantage of the hardened patches of scales on their knuckles and forearms, the close-range weapons of choice for the Wyvram tribe were spiked leather gauntlets. Although not as precise a weapon as a blade or as powerful as a hammer, the gauntlets were devastating up close, and could bring almost any opponent to their knees, or to their grave, no matter how much bigger than the diminutive Wyvram they might be. Of course, in order to be properly hardened for battle, the gauntlets had to be treated first, and that's where Ran came in. The tribe periodically retired the gauntlets used by their sentries and guardsmen, because leather doesn't age as well as wood or metal, and so the leatherworkers had to create a large number of gauntlets to replace them. Ran would be helping them by taking care of one of the simpler steps of the process so the leathersmiths could focus on actually creating more gauntlets. Specifically, once the gauntlet forms were stitched together, Ran would treat them, carefully submerging them in a large metal tub filled with a noxious-smelling mixture of chemicals that the Wyvram considered a prized secret. Once bathed in the chemicals for the proper amount of time, the gauntlets were hardened, able to take a hit for the warrior wearing them, and the leather was strengthened so that it would last longer and wouldn't crack. After very carefully following the instructions he'd been given, Ran was able to give a test batch of gauntlets the proper treating, and the leatherworkers, a man named Falling Snow and a woman named Blazing Fire, gave him their approval, and left him with the first proper batch while they went to work creating more gauntlet forms. Fortunately, Falling Snow and Blazing Fire were not married, and although they were on friendly terms with each other, they seemed significantly more focused on the work than the last Wyvram pair Running Water had been sent to, which he found reassuring.

At first, things went well, and though he scared himself a few times with splashed droplets of the chemicals, which were mildly corrosive, Ran thought he was doing a great job, taking care of the first batch of gauntlets perfectly, even though it was almost three times larger than the test batch. It was pretty much the same work no matter how many there were, of course, the raw gauntlets came to him hooked onto racks that he carefully slid into the tub and then pulled out all at once, so he didn't have to worry about leaving one in longer than the others. Deep down, Ran considered this task more important than gathering herbs or cleaning out a pool, even if that one was more about pleasing the spirits than about keeping the water clean. If he did this right, he would be helping to arm the Wyvram tribe's warriors so they could protect his people from danger. Maybe that would help the tribe see his usefulness. Actually, he found the work quite satisfying, and he'd always been good with his hands, so if it weren't for the part where you had to actually cut the leather off of the animal carcasses, he might consider becoming a leatherworker once he reached the age of full manhood. He tried not to let his thoughts wander too far ahead, though, first he had to prove his dedication and usefulness, and then he could worry about his future.

Unfortunately, though perhaps predictably, things didn't go as smoothly as he'd hoped. A while after he'd started working with the gauntlets, some more kids came wandering by, and went to peek into the leatherworking tent, as word was starting to get around about Ran's tasks, and where he was working next. At first, Ran ignored them, since at least they weren't the ones who'd pushed him into the communal pool, but when they lingered, watching him, it was hard not to start feeling self-conscious. It was when he was maneuvring a new rack into position, and the chemicals weren't yet hissing against leather, that he noticed the children were murmuring amongst themselves. "I heard he peed in the communal pool!" whispered one, frowning at Ran. "No, you dummy, he stepped in the pool during the cleaning ceremony," replied another, "my father says the spirits hate that more than if you pee in the pool!" "I heard Cresting Wave helped him gather crops, and then he poisoned Cresting Wave's husband for no reason. What a jerk!" commented a third, a little girl with a festive pattern dyed into her fleece. Embarrassed, Ran turned to them and started trying to defend himself, to tell them those things weren't his fault, that he hadn't done any of them on purpose. Naturally, the kids were more interesting in teasing him than in the truth, so this had little effect except to encourage them. Like the slightly older ones at the pool, these kids taunted Ran about being an outsider's pet, said he was secretly working for the barbarians so they'd give him a shiny new collar and keep him in a cage in one of their strange, blocky houses. It quickly became apparent that this was based more on the stories Ran had told the council, not on anyone actually knowing about the friendship between Ran and Yori, so that helped a tiny, tiny bit, but the other lies still stung his pride.

As the children clearly didn't have anything better to do, they were content to hang around and gossip about Ran's time outside the village, or his antics since he'd arrived, sometimes rotating their roster as one kid got bored or another one showed up. Still, determined not to take the easy way out, Ran continued working and refused to go to the older Wyvram who were working the leather into gauntlets in the other room of the tent. They weren't his parents, and he didn't need older strangers to protect him from children. At least, that's what he thought until Blazing Fire wandered in to check on him, and wasn't exactly pleased with what he found. Crying out in frustration, the leatherworker raised the latest rack of gauntlets out of the tub of chemicals, and Ran realized, much to his dismay, that in his distracted state, he'd only thought he'd swapped out the last batch for the next one; this was still 'the last batch', and they'd been soaking for almost twice as long as they were supposed to! The caustic chemicals had thoroughly ruined an entire batch of the gauntlets, burning through most of the bindings and leaving the leather itself corroded and weak. The only thing that kept Ran from hanging his head in shame and utter defeat was the fact that Blazing Fire and Falling Snow seemed angrier at the children for being a distraction than they were at Ran for being distracted. As Blazing Fire chased off the panicked kids, threatening to treat them in the vat and turn their hides into gauntlets, Falling Snow shrugged and patted a miserable Ran on the shoulder. "Everybody burns a rack or two in the early days, kid," she said, sympathetically, "It happened to me and Blaze, it happened to my father and Blaze's uncle when they were in training, and you know what? I bet it happened to the ones who trained them, too. You just gotta learn from your mistakes, keep moving forward." It wasn't quite as consoling as Cresting Wave's assurances, since this time it really was Ran's fault, but it did help. He just wished that mistake had come after getting the first two tasks perfect, instead of botching them, too...

Which was how things had brought Ran here, he supposed, as he stood, trembling, in the public circle of the village. The council was arrayed in front of him, wearing their most ceremonial garb and done up with special dyes and paints, and the entire village watched from the shadows just beyond the firelight. Even Booming Thunder, who stood front and center, slightly ahead of the other members of the council, seemed imposing and cold in the light of a gathering of judgement. Only two things brought comfort to the young Wyvram, who tried to stand tall despite his fear, despite his shaking; one was that the general population of the tribe was forbidden from speaking during the ceremony, so he wouldn't be heckled by the many goat-dragons leering in from the dark, and the other was that the Wyvram had never condemned a tribesman to death for any reason, even the ones that really were conspiring with outsiders or trying to betray the clan. Even imprisonment was rare, if only because they would have to build a place to keep a prisoner first. So no matter how much he may now be hated for events outside of his control, Ran's people would at least do him the kindness of not hurting him... physically, anyway. Emotionally, he already felt pretty compromised. "The council of elders have been in discussion since the sun began to set," intoned Booming Thunder, as the ceremony began, "And we have reached a decision... though it was not a unanimous one. Running Water, son of the Wyvram, are you ready to be judged?" With only a little hesitation, Ran nodded. "Y-yes, I am, chieftain," the boy said, as bravely as he could. The elder nodded back, and for just an instant, Ran thought he saw a smirk of admiration cross the old man's lips, though it was gone before he could be sure it wasn't just a trick of the flickering light of the torches set up around the perimeter of the circle. "Very well then," continued Booming Thunder, "Running Water, we, the elder council of the Wyvram tribe, have decided..." he paused for a moment, his face unreadable, before continuing. "...We have decided that due to the unknown events that took place while you were unconscious and in the clutches of outsiders, you may be an agent on their behalf, even if you are unaware of it yourself." As Ran's heart sank in his chest, the chieftain let out a sigh and openly shook his head. "Though I, Booming Thunder, chieftain of the Wyvram, objected to this path, I was... overruled... by the other members of the council, and so I must deliver the will of my people. Running Water, as one who has been touched by the outside world, you are a threat to our people and our culture, and judging by your activities since your return to the village, our attempts to strengthen you, the ones that lead to you leaving us in the first place, have all failed... as have you. You are a -" Here the chieftain's voice seemed to catch for just a second, an unheard-of crack in his normally imperviously strong appearance during public meetings. "...You are deemed a failure as a Wyvram, and so, I hereby sentence you to exile. You are banished from this village, and all the lands of the Wyvram, ordered to leave this night, after one last meal, with nothing but the clothes on your back, your name, and your memories. Whatever path your life may take, it is not the path of this tribe. This is the will of the Wyvram, and it will be carried out!" Raising his ceremonial staff into the air, Booming Thunder brought down the metal-capped bottom onto a smooth, flat stone that lay in the ground next to where he stood, and they came together with a cracking sound that reverberated throughout the meeting area, sounding much like the chieftain's namesake. His words had been enough, but looking back, Ran always remembered that he didn't feel like his fate had been sealed until that sound rang in his ears. It was over.

One by one, the other members of the council raised their ceremonial cloaks and wrapped them about themselves, hiding all but their eyes from view, and turned their backs on Ran, representing the village rejecting him. Even as they did, Ran could hear the sound of many, many goat-dragons shuffling around in the dark, following the will of their leaders, facing away from the saddened Ran. Only Booming Thunder stood still. "Do you understand your fate, young one?" asked the chieftain, his pain now clearly showing on his face. Ran wanted to cry, but instead he sucked in a breath, stood up as tall and straight as he could, and realized he wasn't trembling anymore. It was the end, for sure, but that meant he wasn't afraid anymore. He was just sad to have failed his people, his blood, so spectacularly, even if it was an unfair judgement. But if he would only remain here in memory, then he stubbornly refused to tarnish his image, his name, any more than it already was by weeping like the 'Running Water' jokes his peers had once made at his expense. So he stood up tall and brave, and nodded. "I do, chieftain!" he called, his voice surprisingly calm, "I understand my fate... and I accept it. If - if this is the will of the Wyvram, then so be it." This time, with no one else watching except Ran himself, Booming Thunder definitely smiled a sad little smile, nodded to the boy, and with a heavy sigh, gathered his own robes around himself and turned his back on Running Water as specially-chosen attendants doused the torches, one by one, until the meeting disappeared into darkness and silence.

* * *

A few hours later, his heart full of pain, his stomach full of his aunt's vegetable soup, Running Water walked through the same gate he'd entered by, and stood still just beyond the threshold as it was closed and heavily locked behind him. Now, here, in the dark, the Wyvram - well, the goat-dragon, at least - allowed his head to bow and his tears to flow in silence. He stood there for several minutes, just letting the shame and sorrow wash over him in painful waves. Then, as he looked up and found that his eyes had adjusted to the night enough to at least walk by the light of the full moon, he thanked the spirits that he wouldn't have to sleep in a bush just outside town in order to see the path, which would risk someone actually seeing him on his shameful walk of exile. With that, the little nomad forced himself to walk away from the village where he'd been born, the village where his parents were buried, the village that now considered him a shameful lost son. He stopped just before the first turn and looked back, though all he could make out was the wall that surrounded the settlement, and the torches placed around it to make it harder for intruders to slip close. "...Goodbye," he whispered, unsure who it was directed to, and then turned his back, leaving for the last time.

He'd only been walking a few minutes when a voice softly called out to him. "Running Water!" The boy squinted, and was shocked to realize that Booming Thunder stood beside a tree just next to the path, obviously waiting for him. "Ch-chieftain?" he asked, truly confused, "You - you're not supposed to be out at night... You're not supposed to be talking to me!" The man shook his head and frowned, clicking his tongue. "I may be old, boy, but I'm still the chieftain of the village, I can make my own decisions! No one knows I'm out here, and I'll just sneak back to a different gate than the one you took when we're done, tell them I got caught out on a walk. The council will probably see through me, but who cares, the people love me too much to let them hurt me, they'll just bite their tongues over something they know they can't prove." He paused a moment to light a torch, jamming it into the ground to free up his hands. "I tried to stop them, my son, but the fear overcame their minds," he said, "They were like children, like sheep... I'm sorry." Booming Thunder sighed and ran a hand over his head, fatigue and sadness showing through in the rectangular pupils of his eyes. "Cresting Wave told us everything, and the leatherworkers insisted it was an honest mistake, but the poolkeeper was enraged that anyone would desecrate his beloved waters... even if it was obviously the fault of those damned brats. It was his word, and the fear of the outside, that most drove the council to act so rashly." Ran was uncomfortable, and rubbed at the back of his neck, unsure why this was happening. "I... you don't have to explain yourself to me, chieftain," he said, nervously. The other goat-dragon shook his head again and made a dismissive gesture. "Just this once, call me Thunder, boy, I'm not your chieftain anymore, just an old man." Ran smiled slightly. "Okay... Thunder... But I still don't see why you'd risk your title by speaking with me." Booming Thunder placed both hands on Ran's shoulders, and the boy realized for the first time that he didn't have the staff of his office, the first time Ran had ever seen him without it, save for when he was washing himself in the communal pool and no one carried anything except for natural soaps. "Because I needed to tell you... I may not agree with their reasoning, but in the end, I think this is for the best," the chieftain said, "For you, I mean. You've always been curious about the outside world, I was there when you were just a lamb, and your parents told you about the city-dwellers, and how you were never to speak to or even approach them. You weren't the first child I'd seen who asked 'why' to that question... but you were the first who kept asking it as he grew older. You wanted to explore the world, to get to know all the other tribes and even the outsiders, to understand exactly what made them such a threat to us. Well, the truth is... they're not. They're just different, and our councils are always made of elders, which means they're always afraid that the future will forget the past, forget them, and so they order their children to do as they did, even when it may not be best for everyone. Do you understand?"

Ran slowly nodded. "I... I think so," he whispered, shocked to see this side to Booming Thunder. The old man smiled, clearly seeing that in the child's eyes. "Strange words from a chieftain, yes, but as you've just seen for yourself, there's only so much a chieftain can do when his tribe obstinately refuses to change its mind," he said, "Running Water, remember us. Remember what the tribe has taught you, and never forget where you came from. But keep your eyes on the future, not the past. It's true, your path does not lie with the village... your path will help you do what I was never brave enough to do, and explore the outside world, to find your own destiny." Feeling almost happy again, Ran nodded, mulling over the words. "...When I ruined those gauntlets, Falling Snow, the leathersmith, told me to learn from my mistakes, and to keep moving forward," he commented. Booming Thunder smirked. "Sage advice. She'll make a good elder some day," he said, "Tell me, son, do you think you've got a safe place waiting for you with that outsider you mentioned before we came back to the village, this Yo-ri?" Ran frowned for a moment, thinking. "I - I'm not sure," he replied, honestly, "his father sure didn't seem to like me, I don't think he likes any of the children of the wild. But Yori... Yori is my best friend. Even if his father doesn't like it, he'll be there for me, and he'll try to find a place for me." Booming Thunder nodded, stroking his chin. "Not as confident an answer as I was hoping for, but so be it, at least you'll have the strength of a friend to lean on," he said. Ran nodded again, and the old man cleared his throat before he continued. "Listen, my boy, before you go, I just thought I'd tell you, I thought the whole thing was a horrible mistake until I delivered judgement and you stood up, faced me, and didn't shed a single tear. Maybe they can't see it, but I can tell that you have grown stronger than you were when you left us before. That time, you left the village as a boy, but now, you leave it as a man. That is how I'm sure that setting you free of our ways is the best thing we can do for you." Emotion welling up within him, Ran actually smiled. "Thank you, ch- Thunder," he breathed, "That means a lot... coming from you." The older man scruffed his hand across the fleece and scales atop Ran's head, and grinned at him. "Don't mention it," he said, "Thank me for this, instead."

Reaching behind the tree, the chieftain retrieved a small, bulging satchel and opened it. "It's full of supplies to help you on the road, clothes to fit you. I know what I said at the ceremony, but you already left the village with just your name and memories, didn't you? Where's the harm in giving you something now?" He chuckled and reached inside. "You can check the rest when the sun comes up, but I wanted you to have this now." Ran actually gasped; it was a fine, beautiful shawl, carefully woven into his family's pattern. Running his hands along the material, the boy kept looking between the scarf and the proud man who'd given it to him. "When did... where did..." he stammered, shocked. Booming Thunder shrugged. "My wife wove it for you after you left the village the first time, it was supposed to be part of your homecoming celebration a month from now, if all had gone well," he said, "I figured, it was done, it was beautiful, and it would be a shame just to go to waste, no? Go ahead and put it on, boy, let me have one look at you wearing it. Grinning, Ran detached his old shawl from the rest of his clothes and handed it to Booming Thunder, freeing his hands to replace it with the new one, which stood out proudly, just like the boy wearing it. "Very handsome, just like I thought," the chieftain observed, putting the old shawl into the satchel and closing it, "Maybe I'll tell my wife about it when I think she wouldn't get mad. Now go, boy, with my blessing, before an old man loses his composure and blubbers like a baby." Ran smiled and impulsively hugged the surprised goat-dragon tight. For the rest of his life, he would never forget that moment, the happiness and pride that had replaced shame and sadness, the warmth of the old man's embrace, and the smell of the torch, the forest at night, and even the chieftain himself. "Thank you, Thunder... for everything," he said, once he stepped back, "I'll never forget you, I promise." Nodding, the chieftain helped him put the satchel on, and patted him on the shoulder. "I'll hold you to that, my son," he said, winking, "Just remember that as long as I live, at least one person in that village will think proudly of you. And Running Water? For what it's worth, I truly believe that someday, our tribe will change its ways and be ready to join the outside world. It won't happen in my lifetime, and it may not even happen in yours, but someday, the Wyvram will take their place in the world, and they'll have brave souls like you to thank for paving the way. Goodbye, and may the spirits protect you and guide your path!" Ran bowed respectfully, and smiled back at him as he started to walk away. "Goodbye, Thunder!" he said, "I'm gonna make you proud of me, I promise!"

With that, Ran left Booming Thunder behind, already feeling much more confident about his future, and headed off into the forest. The council had taken a fair amount of time to come to a decision, no doubt slowed down by the chieftain digging in his heels, and with the full judgement ceremony, his final meal in the village, and now this heart-to-heart talk, it was actually quite close to sunrise, so Ran wasn't scared being amongst the trees in the dark. Having been raised out in the wilds, he knew there weren't any monsters living out here, and he was pretty sure he'd be able to recognize any weird sounds he heard - and if he didn't, it would be a good warning that the Trouble Trio were around. He had admittedly considered asking Booming Thunder for the torch, but he'd already been given so much when he expected nothing, and he didn't want to seem ungrateful. Fortunately, his estimates were correct, and he'd only been walking for about an hour when the sun started coming up, slowly spreading its light across the forest. It took a while for it to make much of a difference to Ran, of course, since he was walking a path amongst the trees, and the leaves above, as always, selfishly grabbed as much light as they could before allowing any to leak to the forest floor. But he could at least see in the dimness, and it didn't take long before the sun was high enough for things to become much clearer, and as the birds began to sing, and squirrels and rabbits began running to and fro, Ran's spirits picked up even more.

As he walked, Ran let his mind just wander for a while, going over all that had happened over the last few days, since the path was easy enough to follow. He'd stopped to have a small lunch from the preserved food the chieftain had provided, but even with that break, he was well on his way back to the Hartmüt residence, confident that three days wouldn't be enough time for Svenn to move all their many strange belongings to another place just to separate his son from Ran. Of course, for all Ran knew, they had a spell that could disappear and reappear their stuff at will. Yori had claimed that the outsiders knew of no magic, but Ran had seen enough strange things in Yori's house that the goat-dragon was suspicious of that claim. Maybe Ran hadn't known Yori long enough for the cat to trust him with magic, or maybe Yori wasn't old enough to be trusted with the secret by his parents! As he got distracted pondering this thought, Ran was startled back to reality by a scared cry in his language. "Lemme go! Help! Nooo!" The voice was coming from the clearing around the corner, and it was answered by a much deeper voice, one that chilled Ran to the core with its strange sound, a combination of a growl and a squawk... because he'd heard it before. "Shut up, petulant child! You don't need to have all your fingers to go back to your tribe, you know..." Setting his satchel down behind a bush, Ran crept forward and peered around a tree, already suspecting what would greet his eyes. Four Wyvram children - he recognized at least two of them as some of the kids who had pushed him in the communal pool when he was trying to clean it - sat in a small clearing, their backs together, tied up tight by coarse rope made from vines and natural fibres. Surrounding them were three much older tribals, the very same ones who had beaten Ran so badly a few months earlier. The Trouble Trio of Wolfrave exiles!

The Wolfrave were tall and thin, looking at first glance like lupine outsiders with fur as black as night and strangely narrow muzzles, but a closer examination revealed the feathery plumage sprouting from their pelts at all their joints, and in patches on their tails, chests, and backs. Each of them also had a mane made of these feathers, and the one who was closest to the children was hunched over, his mane fanned out in a threat display. The kids were clearly taking it pretty seriously, whimpering and sniffling in fear and despair. Ran knew the Trio were named Phlox, Icks, and Spad, having heard the older members of the tribe worriedly discussing them ever since the first time they showed up in Wyvram territory, but he didn't know which was which, as the only time he'd ever actually met them had resulted in him running for his life without much of an introduction. To be honest, all Wolfrave kind of looked the same to Ran... As the thug leaned back from yelling at the children, he turned to look at the one next to him, his beady eyes, pure black, glinting in the sunlight. "This is a terrible idea, Spad!" he grumbled, "The sheep'll never give us anything for these runts! They'd probably thank us for taking 'em off their hands!" The other one bared his teeth, though his response was sarcastic, not angry. "They're all runts, you mongrel, their whole tribe is tiny and weak, everyone knows that," the other one, apparently Spad, said, "What should we do instead, huh? Eat 'em? Are we finally lowly enough to be okay with eatin' people?" The first one looked angry enough to make a fight of it, but the last Wolfrave stepped between them. "Knock it off!" he cried, "Last thing we need is to make a commotion, bring some scout peekin' in on us! Phlox, man up, you've been pissed all day, it's gettin' on my nerves." Phlox cawed angrily and stalked over to the other side of the clearing. The third one, Icks, presumably, turned to Spad, his movements jerky and fast, the way a bird moves on the ground. With his head turned a little to one side so he could look him straight in the eye, Icks huffed slightly. "Pissed or not, he's almost got a point," he said, "The sheep'll want these whiners back, but they'll just send back a bunch of soldiers, not food or supplies. So let's either sell this lot to someone who'll take 'em, or just rough 'em up a little for funsies and leave!"

At these words, which they hadn't even bothered to try and disguise, one of the children, a boy of about eight, burst into tears, sobbing loudly. Icks growled and turned to him, grabbing at a rough flint knife strapped to his leg, the only real weapon seen between the three of them. Their talons and teeth did a great job of being scary and intimidating all by themselves, unfortunately. "Hey! What did he just say, you little brat?" he snapped, pointing at Phlox, "Shut your mouth, or I'll start on your toes!" That was more than enough for Ran, and with his heart pounding in his chest, he stepped out from behind the tree and approached the scene. "Hey yourself, bird-brain!" he yelled, catching the attention of everyone in the clearing, "What the hell is wrong with you, picking on little kids?" Phlox let out a screech as all his feathers fanned outwards. "You!" he bellowed accusingly, "You're that boy! You've got a lot of nerve, showing your face again! Didn't learn your lesson the last time?" Trembling with fury and adrenaline, Ran actually managed to sneer at his enemy. "My lesson in what? How to preen another male?" he taunted, "But you guys stopped when I got there! I didn't learn squat!" It was difficult to tell whether Phlox's face reddened from blushing with embarrassment, or flushing with rage. Either way, he was red, and he was angry. "You little bastard!" he screamed, "I'm gonna tear your scales out one by one and use 'em to make boots! And when I'm done with you, I'm gonna gut your little friend too, we're not afraid of his kind!" As Phlox stepped forward, murder in his eyes, Spad laughed cruelly and gestured to Ran. "What did I tell you, boys?" he said, triumphantly, "We just needed to be patient!"

One of the children being held captive screamed out in panic. "Running Water! Get out of here! Tell the tribe!" he implored, "They're too big, just run!" Icks turned and backhanded the boy with a snarl, telling him to shut up, and Ran wondered exactly what he and his adrenaline buzz had gotten himself into. But it was too late, the angry Wolfrave was already closing in. Phlox extended his talons and lunged out at Ran, who dodged to the side, his hands instinctively coming up and forming fists, just like Yori had taught him in their amateur boxing training. Turning back around, Phlox swiped out with both hands, but Ran just dodged left, then backwards, easily avoiding the swings. "Hold still, you little prick!" snarled the brute, lunging in closer again. This time, Ran intercepted the swing, punching the inside of Phlox's wrist and pushing it wide out to the side, and then he stepped forward, surprising the older male, and delivered a one-two punch into the Wolfrave's gut, causing him to hunch over, grabbing at his stomach, and stumble backwards. "Dammit, Phlox, you're makin' us look bad!" yelled Icks, "Stop tryin' to kill him and kill him already!" Phlox stared daggers at his so-called friend before he dropped to all fours and launched himself teeth-first at Ran, who had already retreated out of arm's reach. This time, Ran just backstepped so that Phlox came to a halt just in front of him, teeth snapping shut on nothing - and then, with his head and muzzle extended, and his body down low on the Wyvram's level, Ran delivered a punishing uppercut to the underside of Phlox's jaw, and the Wolfrave was thrown backwards, off his feet. He groaned in pain and grabbed at his chin as he tried to get back to his feet, but Ran had already run over, and just as Phlox looked up at him, Running Water used his momentum to punch the man in the side of the face as hard as he could. Yelping in pain as those scaly knuckles met his cheek, Phlox swung back down to the dirt and lay there, out cold.

Spad swore under his breath, the children all gasped in shock, and Icks tilted his head to the side. "What the hell is this?!" he angrily shouted, "No way could he take Phlox in a fight, he's gotta be cheatin' or usin' magic or something!" He hurried forward to take his friend's place, drawing his knife. Ran swallowed. He didn't exactly have much experience dealing with weapons, since boxing was supposed to be a sport, not real self-defence, but Icks' swings were just as wild, just as untrained as Phlox's, and it only took a little more effort for the smaller male to dodge away from the Wolfrave's random attacks. His chance finally came when Icks stabbed forward, and Ran ducked around to the side, then stepped forward, up close with Icks. Since he wasn't down on Ran's level, the Wyvram had to improvise, so he threw his full strength into a single punch and drove his fist into his opponent's crotch. He was vaguely aware that that was against the rules in real boxing, but he was okay with that. Icks cried out in pain and shock, dropping the knife to cup himself with both hands. "My balls!" he cried, somewhat unnecessarily, as he dropped to his knees, trembling. When he realized that this brought him within range of Ran, his black eyes widened. "W-wait!" he cried, but Ran was already reeling back. He really let Icks have it, using both fists to rain a relentless hail of punches on either side of the exile's face while his hands were otherwise occupied, until his knuckles ached, until Icks slumped to the ground with a groan, not quite unconscious, but beaten so badly that all he wanted to do was hold his bruised package and whimper to himself.

Two of the Trio were down, but Ran was panting hard, trembling from the exertion, and Spad seemed just a hair smarter than his brethren. Growling, he approached Ran, more slowly than the other two had. "I bet you think you're hot stuff, huh? Takin' down two big, bad Wolfrave all by yourself?" he muttered, slowly flexing and relaxing his hands, "You gonna go brag to that boy? Maybe your master will give you a treat for takin' care of some pests, huh?" Spad turned and spat on the ground. "You disgust me, spendin' time with them and still daring to call yourself a child of the tribes!" he accused, "My friends and I may be exiles, but at least we're proud enough to steal from those scum instead of makin' friends!" Suddenly, he dropped low to the ground and lashed out with the back of a foot, and as it did, more talons popped out of his toes. Alarmed, Ran threw himself backwards, narrowly avoiding being disembowelled. They must get that from the great birds the Wolfrave claimed parentage from, since Ran had never heard of a wolf who clawed with his back feet before. Spad immediately dug his fingers into the ground and pivoted over, swinging his heel up and then down with great force; Ran only had time to roll out of the way. He needed to get up! With that frantic thought in his mind, Ran suddenly remembered a scene from one of the strange 'movies' he had watched with Yori. He still wasn't sure what the little story was all about, but he remembered a scene where the hero had gotten knocked down in a fight, and... Still lying on his back, Ran pulled his knees up towards his chest, and shoved his feet forwards as hard as he could, at the same time he pushed himself up off the ground with his arms, and roughly threw himself back onto his feet. He was significantly more wobbly than the dashing hero had been in the movie, but Spad was so thrown off by the move that he hesitated for a moment, giving Ran enough time to recover and get back into a defensive posture. As he stepped back, taking in his opponent, the Wyvram boy felt something against the side of his foot and realized he was just next to Icks' knife; Spad must have knocked it somehow with that low kick and sent it over here. He quickly snatched it off the ground and held it before him, only to freeze as Spad growled at him. Could he really bring himself to use it, to hurt or even kill a person? Even one as terrible as Spad? Sensing his hesitation, the Wolfrave started closing in on him, grinning maliciously. "Stay back!" Ran warned, holding up the knife threateningly, even as he was unsure what he planned to do with it. Suddenly, he had an idea that was all his own, not inspired by a story or Yori's training. Reeling back, he suddenly hurled the knife as hard as he could - just to Spad's right. Not knowing the boy was trying to miss him, the Wolfrave dodged to the left, his eyes on the knife - which is why he couldn't react in time as Ran followed his own example from the time he'd saved Yori from Chet Bauer, and charged the brute, running up close and leaping straight into Spad's chest, knocking him over backwards. The Wolfrave crashed into the ground with Ran atop his chest, knocking all the air out of his lungs in one blow, and Ran didn't give him a single moment to recover before he sat up and grabbed a fistful of the fur on either side of Spad's face, pulled his head up off the ground, and then slammed it back down with a thud, terrified that one of those claws at his sides would casually swat him away at any moment. He didn't stop, either, thumping the Wolfrave's head against the soil again and again, taking Spad out of the fight in a serious way.

It took Ran a few moments after he let go to compose his trembling body enough to crawl off of Spad and stand up, his aching hands rubbing at his arms. The Wyvram children were calling for him to help them, but Ran had to stand there long enough to see for certain that Spad's chest was still rising and falling, that he hadn't bashed the man's brains out in that last, frantic attack. Then, taking in a deep, shuddery breath of his own, Ran steeled himself for the tasks ahead. He went and retrieved Icks' knife, and used it to free the children, who then helped him drag the three Wolfrave over to a tree and bind their arms to it. Icks, who was still conscious, grumbled and weakly resisted at first, but Ran put his foot over the man's injured testicles and pressed lightly, and Icks whimpered in surrender and meekly let them tie him to the tree, at which point he pretended to be unconscious like the others. When they were done, Ran stepped back and sighed, looking down at his bruised hands in curiosity, like he'd never seen them before. "What 'boy' were they talking about?" the oldest of the kids asked, "Why would they want to hurt his kind?" Ran smiled gently and shrugged. "Just a friend of mine," he said, ambiguously, "I guess they don't make friends very well." "How did you do that?" asked one of the other kids, a young girl he didn't recognize, giving voice to the question that was on everybody's mind. Ran turned to her and tried to sound stern, using the chieftain as a mental example. "It doesn't matter," he said, "Just go back to the village and tell chieftain Booming Thunder that the Trouble Trio are here, and he should send soldiers to take them back to the village." "Why?" asked the girl, looking at the knife, "Why don't you just k-" she interrupted herself with a rather fake cough as Ran glared at her. "Umm... what are our people gonna do with them?" she tried again, "We don't have anywhere to keep them." "We can send them back to the Wolfrave," Ran replied, "They were already exiled, but they've hurt people ever since they left, so maybe we could convince their leaders that these jerks are, I don't know, tarnishing the honour of their tribe, or something... Wolfrave are big on honour. Maybe they'll take them in and punish them even worse this time, I don't know." All I know is, I gotta go." He turned back towards where his satchel was hidden, but one of the kids grabbed his hand. "Wait, Running Water!" It was one of the boys, looking confused and embarrassed. "Umm... We're s-sorry about what happened at the pool... we didn't know you were gonna get exiled," he said, sounding genuinely repentant, "But we were wrong about you! You saved us from three big Wolfrave all by yourself, so you're a brave warrior after all! We're gonna tell the tribe, and m-maybe they'll forgive you, let you come back!" Smiling thinly, Ran reached over and patted the shorter boy on the shoulder. "You tell them whatever you want," he said, softly, "If the tribe wants to talk to me... they can come and find me." With that, he turned his back on the children and the Trouble Trio and didn't look back as he retrieved his satchel and started walking again. After a moment, Ran realized he was smiling, and it didn't take long to figure out why. He'd faced danger head-on, and used his training to overcome three larger, more powerful opponents. He didn't have any illusions that he would have won if all three of them had jumped him at once, and he knew he'd gotten lucky and that the Trio had been very sloppy fighters, but he'd proven that he was able to defend himself, and that meant everything to the young Wyvram. More than anything else, he knew for certain that he had defeated the old 'Running Water' jokes, that he would never respond to a challenge by running away crying ever again.

Late that afternoon, Ran emerged from the trees and immediately saw Yori sitting on a log, facing his house, looking dejected. Feeling a swell of warmth and emotion, Ran started running towards his friend. "Yori!" he called, smiling as the cat sat bolt upright and whirled around, sheer joy blossoming on his face. Yori jumped to his feet and rushed to meet the goat-dragon. "Ran! You're back!" he yelled. The boys collided into a big, tight hug, full of laughter and smiles, and after squeezing each other silly, they relaxed their grips and sat down together on the log. "I thought I was never gonna see you again..." admitted Yori, "How'd you get away from the village this time?" Ran's face fell, for the sadness of exile was still within him, even if he knew deep down that it was for the best. "I was... they exiled me," he admitted, averting his eyes, "I'm not a member of the Wyvram tribe anymore." Yori gasped, looking horrified. "That's terrible!" he cried, "B-because you met me?" Ran shrugged. "A little," he said, "but they also thought I was too weak to help the tribe." He looked up and managed a smile, putting his arm around the Iriomote and hugged him from the side. "It's okay, though, Yori," he said, trying to find the words in the other boy's language, "My chieftain helped me understand... my place isn't with the Wyvram anymore, and I couldn't stay in that village even if they wanted me to." Yori frowned, not quite getting it. "You - you couldn't?" he asked, whiskers twitching in confusion. "No," Ran confirmed, "My place... my place is with you, Yori." The cat's cheeks lit up red, but he smiled, clearly pleased. "Oh wow, really?" he asked, and then, without waiting for an answer, "Hmm... my Dad's not gonna like the idea... but he's always had a soft spot for charity, so when we tell him you got kicked out of your tribe, I think he'll let you stay with us. 'At least for now, young man'." Ran hadn't heard Svenn speak enough to know if that was a good impression of him or not, but it just felt so good to be back with Yori that he laughed anyway, and gave his best friend a hug. Ran closed his eyes and sighed in relief, totally relaxed for the first time in three days. Now, as Yori began to purr with happiness in his arms, there was no doubt whatsoever in the goat-dragon's mind; as confusing as the outside world could be, Running Water was finally home.