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Surprise Education

I lean heavily on my staff, gazing over the settlement lying sprawled out below me with a resentment that I didn't really know I felt until this past month. All I'd known in my life was the colonies, never having ventured out past the walls of my settlements or the worn roads between the major cities. Meratown had been a trek, but I'd spent the whole time in the back of a wagon, studying up on how to set up my business.What a fool I'd been! And after that, I was too complacent with my tavern that I never thought to venture out past the outskirts of the settlement, to where the wonders of the wilds remained. I knew there was a reason that we Circushans came here originally, but I never gave it any thought. Now I have.

I don't belong in Meratown anymore, I feel, but I do need to return to it to get supplies. The moment I was able to walk by myself with just my new walking staff, I insisted that Rasithenuk and Quinelia show me to where my tavern once stood. I knew more or less what I would find but I would be looking for one thing in particular that I knew would have remained, because it wasn't something that would be found by looters or touched by the fire.

My savings.

I was never a spendy type of person before the fire. I secreted away coin to save for my eventual retirement, or for someone special if I ever found the right lass. Never did, so it would still be hidden in the false floor behind the bar, right under where I'd fallen and gotten trapped. A memory dislodges from my past and floats to the surface of my mind: the first full day of profits that were totally mine, the day I'd paid off the building's cost to the moneylender. I'd taken the stacks of coins and counted them off into a series of pouches and carefully, almost reverently, set them under that hidden panel which then was replaced. The images are crisp and sharp in my mind's eye, and I can almost even taste the aged whiskey that I celebrated with. The sharp flavor makes my tongue tingle until I slide it between my teeth.

While I may not have been a spendy person, I've always felt the more adventurous type. The stories of the trappers and hunters always interested me, but I never had the workers to be able to take a vacation. Nor had I wanted to. Now I look back at my past self with scorn, thinking of all that I may have missed because of my complacency.

Rasithenuk said that he would accompany me into Meratown, and despite my protests that I'd be fine, I'd relented in the end. Quiet and mysterious though he may be, he's been incredibly attentive and genuinely delightful to be around. He's shown me the basics of living in the wilds that I need to know so I don't die by walking out of the camp, and in return I've regaled him with stories of the wilder nights from my tavern. He's a real captive audience for those stories. Not that Quinelia is not, but she's still incredibly quiet around me, deigning it unnecessary to speak in a language that all three of us can understand whenever I address her. I think it's amusing to the cat.

Though I have to admit, I don't know whether I'm just picking up on the tones she's using or if she's been subtly trying to teach me, but I'm starting to understand a bit of what she's saying, even if it's not in Circushan. I'm gonna give her credit for now, because she's definitely brighter than she lets on.

At any rate, standing here reminiscing isn't going to get me my supplies and it isn't going to help pull my weight either. I turn to my companion and give him a smile to show that I'm glad he came, despite not needing to, then turn and start down the trail. The tap-tap-tap of the staff makes my ears flick, even if it is accompanied by the soft footfalls of Rasithenuk and my own heavier ones. I'm not used to either noise, really. It's odd when you're more used to the sound of someone else's footsteps than you are your own. Add in the sound of solid wood thunking down in between each step and you've got a very odd experience over all.

To keep my mind off of it, I focus on how good it feels to be on my feet again and able to explore the sights and sounds and smells of my new home. Even as the scents of the city start to encroach upon the ones from the wilderness, I revel in the sharp woodland pines, the chill scent of the rain from the day before still hanging around in the air. The late autumn sun hasn't dried the path completely just yet, but it's not a problem. Dirty paws can be washed off as easily in a stream as they can under a bucket of water or a faucet, if you get to the nicer settlements.

We skirt most of the settlement proper, sticking to the outskirts to avoid the bustle of late morning activity. In a trade-centered town like this one, it only gets worse as the day goes on and I have no wish to be caught in it when I'm still working on keeping my balance, even if it's been relegated to a second thought and not my primary focus. My primary focus is on remembering where my precious tavern used to stand when walking this route. Besides, it'll calm down for a small amount of time near the mid-day meal, so I can hope that I've retrieved my savings by then so I can do my purchasing without much interruption or hassle.

The scent of burned ash carries on the wind farther than I suspected it would, though it could just be that I'm a bit more accustomed to getting information with my nose than I was when I lived here. I am very glad that it does, because it lets me prepare myself for the sight.

I'm not sure anything can really prepare you for seeing the entirety of your life's work reduced to a pile of ashes and rubble. The sight of the charred wooden beams and the pile where I was trapped (right where the bar used to be) makes my knees weak and I barely catch myself on my staff to keep myself upright. My vision blurs and I have to wipe my eyes with the back of a paw. My chest tightens, my breath comes in short, ragged gasps, and I tremble from ears to tail tip. I almost died here.

A gentle weight rests on my shoulder and I instinctively lean into the maned wolf's side. With his height advantage, it's easy to shift the staff to my other side and press my muzzle against the other male's shoulder. I can feel tears leak out from the corners of my closed eyes but I don't wipe them away this time. I know I need to let it out.

So I do. I spend a few terrifying minutes there, standing amidst the burned out husk of my old life and cry into the shoulder of my saviour, the only reason that I'm still alive. He pulls his other arm around my back and holds me like I did my little brother when his best friend had to move away. I feel so young in those arms.

I do recover, though it takes more time than I had originally planned on. My breathing is still soft panting and my eyes are a little watery, but I can stand up and move on my own again. I mutter a soft "Thank you" to Rasithenuk and he just smiles grimly at me.

"I am a healer, Cayne. We tend to more than just the body." He motions me forward. "Come, show me where to dig. But watch your step. It is still dangerous here and I have no desire to tend to wounds of carelessness."

I nod and hobble forward, a little smile on my muzzle from the maned wolf's strange way of teasing. It's difficult to tell the difference between Rasithenuk being serious and Rasithenuk being light hearted. I'm going to have to work with him on that. "It's right over here. It doesn't look like much fell on it." Which isn't surprising. I put it in a clear spot behind the bar, not underneath any of the beams directly. Most of the rubble would fall around it, unless it shifted.

Some of it did, so I have to get the other canine's help to move one of the heavy cross beams that's blocking my way. I barely recognize anything in here, though I do see the telltale glare of glass shards now and again and that makes me make sure to poke and prod with my staff, then test the next step as carefully as I can. I don't want to slice open my feet. I did it once before and believe me, it is not an experience I would recommend.

We get the beam moved and I clear the small area that gives the only hollow thunk noise that represents my little hidey hole. With as much reverence as I once had, I dig my claws into the warped floorboards and lift. It takes a bit more force than it should, but I don't know how badly the wood was damaged in the fire. It looks mostly intact. I have a moment of fear, just a brief one, that my savings might have been destroyed too. Then the brittle wood snaps and it goes flying off, revealing three small bags that are coated in ash, but otherwise unharmed. I reach in and scoop them up, sliding them into a pair of pouches sewn into the inside of my cloak. The heft of them, the clink of the coins... it sends me tumbling back into my memories for a heartbeat.

I take a deep breath, cough to cover the emotion (and to clear the residual ash from my lungs), and straighten up, leaning heavier on my staff than before. Rasithenuk stands next to me, watching me with sympathetic eyes. "Have you found what you need?" His voice is quiet, but there's almost no noise around us, so I can hear the near-whisper just fine.

"Yeah, I just have to grab a few things in town. Do you need any supplies or herbs or anything?" I start to work my way out of the wreckage, Rasithenuk's paw on my arm to help steady me. "Would Quinelia need anything?"

There's a hitch in his step as I ask that, but he slowly shakes his head. "I will walk around with you and look, but I cannot think of anything that I may require from a settlement. The Spirits provide for us in the wilds." He's said this in the past, but I figured I'd ask anyway. Ma and Pa raised me to be polite.

Next stop, the Trading Post in Meratown proper. I feel an uneasiness settling into my gut as the buildings start to rise over a single floor around us, transitioning from the wooden ones of the outskirts to the stone ones further in. I mean, sure, I spent all of my life in the Colonies. I'm used to this. I've only been out in the wilds for a month (two, if you count the time I was unconscious). But I feel at home out there, in a way that I haven't since I was a little pup back in Graydale. I've run mostly on feel for the majority of my life, and it's kept me faithful where I need to be and morally superior when I should be. I've done some things I regret, but hasn't everyone? Really though, I worked with alcohol day in and day out for almost a decade. I've drank a bit now and again and I've done some stupid things. I'm a male colonist. It's almost law.

So I thank the Maker that we managed to retrieve my money in a relatively short amount of time. I hadn't thought it would take a while, but it could have been quite the task. We make it to the Trading Post in time to avoid the crush of people that would normally be around during this time of year. The majority of them have fled into the taverns and inns and bakeries; I'm tempted to snag a fresh loaf from the latter, but I may have to pass that up.

As it is, I get quite the reaction when I step into the two story brick building that houses the general Trading Post. The owner of the store is still there, talking with the little dingo clerk. The big wolf who owns the place stops mid sentence and stares at me, completely ignoring Rasithenuk. I'm not surprised. "Cayne? M'boy is that really you?"

I step forward with a solid thud of the staff's butt hitting the stone floor. "Alive and in the flesh, Brutus. How's business?" I slip into old cadences easily. Brutus had been one of my regulars and a regular supplier as well. He gets a lot of the imported ales and wines.

He strides quickly over and stops in front of me, raising a paw to clap my shoulder as he always would but hesitating when he sees the walking stick. I catch his paw halfway and clasp his forearm tightly. He was a good friend. He grips back just as tight with a befuddled expression. "How's business? Boy, everyone is saying that you're dead! Your place got torched and nobody saw you make it out. One of the guys there that night said you'd been shot!" He shakes his head, still holding onto my arm, like he wants to be sure I don't vanish in front of him. "And here you are two moons later, fit as a mule, just asking about business like it was just a normal ruttin' day?" His look of disbelief is almost enough to make me chuckle. I hadn't thought about this much.

But it makes a lot of sense, so I immediately set to explaining. "I wasn't quite sure I'd make it out of there in one piece, myself. I have this young healer to thank for that. Found me when I was still sitting pretty, more or less, and patched me right up. Took a bit, but here I am." I motion back to Rasithenuk briefly, but he looks severely uncomfortable, so I wave off the wolf's attempt to move toward the healer with the tip of my staff. "He's not one for conversation, Brutus. I'm only here for some supplies. As you can probably guess, I don't have much to my name in the way of material and worldly possessions, so I need to be able to make my way to a new profession or location." I finally can remove my paw from the lupine's grasp and I clutch at my staff once more. My knees feel weaker after all the walking.

The clerk steps up now, his ears back. I remember when the boy first started working here. "You're leaving again, Mister Thurston? So soon after getting back?" His eyes are wide and I can see the emotion in them. He's always liked talking with me when I had the spare time.

I lean more heavily against the stick, heaving a sigh that gets my point across the exact way it's supposed to. "I'm afraid so, Henry. I could always rebuild in the same location, but I don't like to test my luck with places that have almost been my death. Tempting fate is not a specialty of mine, if you remember." I wink at him, and I'm sure he remembers the few times that I had to have either Brutus or my other supplier, Trinna, help me escort some of my rowdier customers out. "As it is," I stand straight again as I start my planned spiel. "Brutus, I need to get some things before it gets too busy again. I don't get around quite as well as I used to, for now." I gesture with my staff, to make the point more clear. "So expediency would be much appreciated." I know it's a little brusque, more so than the wolf is used to from me; I'm normally one for lengthy conversations when I have the free time. But I'm anxious for reasons that aren't clear to me right now and I don't want to focus too much on it, lest my tail and ears start to tremble and give me away.

Brutus takes a step back and motions me further into the building, after a brief hesitation. "Sure thing, bud. What do you need?" Rasithenuk follows me as I lead Brutus around.

Far too much time later, I have a pack of my own and a quiver slung over my back and a menagerie of pouches strung across the belt I've got underneath my cloak. I let both Rasithenuk and Brutus talk me into getting a bow and arrows and a hunting knife, though I bought a second knife for Quinelia, just in case. I may feel at home in the wilds, but that doesn't mean it's not still dangerous. Rasithenuk declines anything that I suggest for him, much to my dismay.

As a concession, we stop by the baker and pick up two fresh loaves of bread, something I haven't had in too long. This, the maned wolf does not decline, and we share one of the loaves as we try to hurry through town towards the eastern edge. Luck is not completely on our side this time; I must have taken too long with Brutus. The streets start to fill up with all sorts of canines. Circushans all, we're soon surrounded by coyotes and dingoes and jackals (like myself. I turn to stare at some that I know as they pass). My people, once upon a time. I don't even see many of the more diverse dogs among them today. We never had many out this far, though.

I don't feel too well inclined towards them today. They jostle me around and snicker at us as we pass, probably due to the strange (to them) garments we're wearing. A cloak and leathers aren't a typical sight in Meratown, sure, but they should know better. It's getting towards winter and that means we're going to have a small wave of natives seeking shelter in the inns, or trading for warmer furs and more food. They all seem to dress similarly to how we are, so it's not that odd. We're just here a little early, is all.

It's harder going through the crowd than it was even to hike through the trees to get to the edge of town. So by the time we reach the treeline again, I have to find a rock to sit on, still leaning heavily on the staff even after I sit. Rasithenuk sinks to his knees in front of me and holds out a paw. "Are you alright, Cayne?"

I rest one paw on his and nod slowly, trying my hardest to get my racing heart and shortness of breath under control. With the touch, it starts to fade, as does the weariness in my legs. Guess I did just need to sit. "Of course, but thank you. Just needed a little respite from all of that walking, I guess. I'm still not as steady on these feet as I'd like." I grip his paw with a soft squeeze. "Thank you for coming with me. I needed it."

His smile comes back and it's a rather bright one too. It's good to see it again. "It was no trouble at all. I am glad I was able to assist." Then, he stands and helps me back to my feet, which no longer are crying for me to stay off of them. "I know what it is like to leave an old life behind."

I nod to him; it's a sensitive topic, and I know little more than I did when I first tried to broach the topic nearly a month ago now. All I've learned is that neither he nor Quinelia are welcome with their home tribes. Without knowledge of their customs though, there's no way for me to find out what may have happened without dragging the story out of one of them. And they've done far too much for me to even think about doing that to either of them. Despite how much I've been itching to hear the story.

"We should get going if we want to be back before dark." I motion him ahead of me; I don't know the way back as well as he does and his eyes are sharper than mine in the dark. His tail is easy to see in the dying light, though, so I have no trouble matching his steps and his easy-going pace while we wind our way silently back to the little camp.

It hasn't moved in the two months that they've been taking care of me, so it's begun to feel like a new home for me. I know that soon, since I'm mobile again and somewhat capable, they'll most likely want to move on. Rasithenuk offered once or twice for me to come with them, and as far as I know Quinelia is okay with that. She hasn't said anything to me that I fully understand, but she's also not been blatantly hostile either. I count that among my blessings.

She actually greets us both with a smile and a string of words that start rolling around in my head as soon as she says them. I take a moment and hang back as Rasithenuk steps around to the fire. She asked... how the trip down memory road went. At least, that's what I understand it as. I think it was more literally "How was your walk through the shadows of your past?" Then I do a double take as I realize that I understood her.

Then when I open my muzzle to respond, what comes out isn't Circushan. The statement remains the same, polite speech that I was going to give her, "It went well enough, thank you for asking. I have something for you as well that I managed to procure while we were in the town itself." But it comes out of my muzzle in the same tribal language she's been using. The words are far more truncated and rough, and they sit on my tongue strangely before rolling off of it.

Both Rasithenuk and Quinelia whip their heads around to stare at me. I'm sure that I'm quite the sight. Standing there, dressed like a tribal man in leathers and breechcloth and leggings with a cloak fastened about my neck, leaning on my staff and looking about as confused as one can possibly be. Since when do I understand her language, and more importantly, since when can I speak it?

Rasithenuk narrows his eyes and storms over to me, his sleeves billowing with the movement. "You can understand her now?" he asks, far more forcefully than I've ever heard him. His paw shoots out and grabs me by the shoulder. I stumble.

"I... I suppose I can," I say, still confounded by myself.

"When you first woke up, you said that you were not much of a linguist. Were you lying to us?" His voice is dangerously sharp, and I realize that it's even more so because he's switched over to whatever tribal language Quinelia has been speaking. I really need to find out what it's called.

I try to take a step back in the face of his anger, if that's what this is, but he's still far stronger than I am. Deceptively so. I don't budge an inch and only manage to make his claws press more firmly into my shoulder. I wince. "No, I was not! I wouldn't lie about that! What's the problem?" I say it a bit more desperately than I probably should, and it still comes out in their dialect, which just sends another wave of crippling confusion over me.

I never thought I'd be relieved to see Quinelia stalking towards me. But she doesn't have her paw on her knife and she seems relaxed; it's just how she moves. "Rasi, he is not lying. I told you all of this." Her voice is quieter, and I have to say that it's nice to be able to understand her. She has a nice tone and hearing real words parsed through my brain makes me far more kindly inclined towards her than I have been. She rests a dusty furred paw on Rasithenuk's arm and I feel his grip lessen. I brace myself on my staff as he lets go, gritting my teeth through the throbbing in my arm. God, but his grip is strong. "Do you not remember? We spoke about this when we found him."

Rasithenuk's ears flicker and fold back, and his eyes narrow. He doesn't take his eyes off of me, but he opens his muzzle and yet another language comes pouring out of it. It makes my ears tingle, but I don't quite get what he's saying. The tone is still dangerous and low so it gets my whiskers twitching as well.

Quinelia actually flinches back at whatever it is that he says in that far too fluid tongue. I mouth one of the words with a bemused expression and it feels far rounder in my muzzle than even Circushan. She responds back to him, but I can still understand her. "It's not a set in stone process, Rasi. You know that. But it's how I found you."

That gets those piercing blue eyes to widen again, though they still feel cold as they bore into me. He takes another step back, then turns abruptly and marches back to his spot at the fire. I gaze after him for a few strangely heart wrenching moments until I feel a much softer touch on my shoulder, the same one the maned wolf had grabbed. My eyes shift and I see Quinelia standing beside me with ears perked. I relax muscles that I hadn't realized had tensed and allow her to lead me over towards the fire as well. She has a very gentle touch, I notice. "I apologize for Rasi's actions, friend Cayne. His anger is understandable, but unnecessary and unwarranted." I meet her gray eyes and I manage a smile in the face of her own. "It is good to actually be understood when speaking to you. I am sorry that I do not know your tongue."

So formal, so polite, so kind. She and Rasithenuk are two of a kind; different from every story I've heard of the wilder folk. I lay a paw on hers for a moment before she releases me to let me sit. When I speak, I focus on the words that leave my lips, forming them more deliberately instead of by instinct. They feel more natural, now. "Please, there's no need for apologies. I have absolutely no idea what's happened or what's going on, but it's nice to be able to hold a conversation, yes. I should be the one apologizing. This took me by surprise too." I settle onto my seat - a rock draped with furs to make it somewhat comfortable - and rest my staff on the rock beside me. "I've only ever known Circushan, so I do not even know what this tongue is called." I try to catch Rasithenuk's eyes, but he's deliberately not looking in my direction as he digs through his pack.

Quinelia settles onto her own seat and folds her paws in her lap. Her ears are still up, but the smile has left her muzzle. She looks as serious as ever. "Krillik," she says. When I tilt my head to show my question, she answers with, "The name of this language. It is Krillik. I learned it from Rasithenuk when we were first traveling together. We spent many seasons among the Krillik'toa tribe and the Haransiri tribe, keeping the peace there. A kind people, if a bit quick to anger." Her eyes close and those ears fold back now, making it easier to trace the black patterns on her muzzle. They're surprisingly pretty for one who tends to come off as tough as she does.

I flick my ears back in sympathy and watch Rasithenuk instead, still deliberately not watching either of us. In the dying light from the sun, he starts sorting out some of his bundled herbs into different pouches. I watch until I'm sure he can feel my eyes on him, because his ears go down further. "I've heard of them. Coati and tayra respectively, right? We got refugees now and then coming in during the winters at Meratown. They're almost always at each other's throats, no? Not many came through my tavern."

"Yes, they've had battles back and forth and even still have issues with the occasional raiding party. We managed to instill a small amount of peace before we left to come here, but the Spirits whisper of aggression on the rise again." Movement makes my whiskers twitch and I turn to see that Quinelia has pulled a cast iron pot from the storage tent and is working to suspend it over the fire. So it's some kind of stew for dinner, I guess.

Rasithenuk has mentioned the Spirits before. I always knew that the natives worshipped the nature spirits and they have their own religion and everything, but as I've mentioned I'm not really an expert on it. Maybe Quinelia can enlighten me. That'd be a great source of conversation, I'm sure.

"So you were playing ambassador between them? That's a very kind gesture for tribes that neither of you belong to." I reach up and run a paw over my ears, pushing them back and letting them spring up again. "I'm glad it was you two that found me. I know I've said it to Rasithenuk, but thank you as well. You've done more than I can ever repay."

She raises her gaze to meet mine again and I see the shadow of a smile on her muzzle as she goes about preparations with the pot. "We have our reasons, friend Cayne. The thanks is appreciated, but unnecessary."

Deferential, just like her companion. Which reminds me, I forgot about the knife that I got for her in town! I set my pack down in front of me and dig through it without preamble, then get her attention again when I find the bone-handle tool. "Oh, I just remembered. I saw this in town and thought that you may be able to find a use for it. My old friend mentioned that it had been traded to him by one of the southeastern tribes." I display it for her, the off-white handle treated and engraved with tribal markings. I examined them before and didn't see any meaning behind them, but looking now gives me the faintest impression that it was meant for a great hunter. Even more fitting, if what Rasithenuk tells me about her is true.

The first expression she goes through is one of fear, then of curiosity. A moment later, she slinks over and plucks the implement from my grasp and holds it in the firelight to further inspect it. I see a claw extend from one finger to trace the lines in the handle. "This is from my tribe..." her voice trails off as her tail lashes, then goes still. "But why would he- there has to be some mistake." She looks back at me and her eyes speak volumes of confusion, which seems to be the theme tonight. Rasithenuk's ears have perked, but he still seems mostly absorbed by his task.

My ears go down in contrast and I curl my fingers around the edge of my pack to keep them occupied. "I am very sorry if I erred in my thinking. I wanted it to be a token of appreciation, since you've been providing for me for this long. My family has drilled it into my head to display my thanks the moment I am able, lest I be considered an ingrate and a burden."

The genet's eyes unfocus for a moment and she speaks, but quietly, and it doesn't seem directed at me. "A purpose for everything..." she mutters. Then she comes back to the here and now, eyes focused intently on me. Before I can react, she's closed the distance between us and her muzzle is suddenly against my cheek. My ears and cheeks flush and I go stock still until her voice makes my ears flick. "Thank you, friend Cayne."

I blink, then tentatively reach one paw up to give her a gentle pat on the back, just twice. She pulls back after that with a bright smile. "You're welcome, then. I saw it and thought you might appreciate it, is all." I don't really say it all too loud, more of a mumble down at the ground, but I know she hears it.

When I look up again, one blue eye is watching me, shining with reflected firelight. That light paints his already red fur even moreso, making it blaze like the flames themselves. His muzzle parts as if he's going to say something, but then he shakes his head and turns to his pack.

Quinelia returns to her dinner preparations and starts making trips between the smallest tent and the pot, occasionally pulling out her old knife and slicing what look like plants to scatter into whatever concoction she's planning. As she watches the pot, every now and again edging it closer to the open flames, she speaks up. "Rasi, help friend Cayne to his tent. You are both tired and would benefit from the rest." Her eyes don't even raise to watch either of us.

The maned wolf's ears go as flat as I've ever seen them, and the angry eyes that he had with me not so long ago return, but directed at his genet companion. She doesn't even flinch, just waves a paw in his general direction. He spouts something long and complex in that strangely liquid tongue that makes my ears itch. The only thing that even sounds remotely familiar is my name mixed in, but even that is elongated and melted. Then he follows it up with something even lengthier that sounds very aggressive.

She just waves the paw that's holding her knife at him again, still not bothering to meet his gaze. "Do not even start with me, Rasi. He needs the rest and you need the company. Off with you, or you do not get your meal."

The dynamic between the two, now that I can understand both sides of it, is incredibly fascinating. Rasithenuk definitely sounds like the elder of the pair, though by how much I cannae say. Even so, Quinelia is definitely the more skilled when it comes to the ways of the hunter, moving with fluid grace that even the healer's measured strides do not have. Every motion is silken smooth and flows immediately into the next, making watching her incredibly interesting. Rasithenuk is graceful as well, but his speaks of a natural grace, where hers is natural ability enhanced with intense practice until it becomes instinct.

She has authority, and that makes sense. You cannae have a surviving group of this few people without there being a give and take between both parties. Even in my own business, I had people that I answered to, and they had people they answered to, and so on. Everything is in balance in a system that works.

I suppose that's why Rasithenuk accepts it despite his grumbling and hurriedly sweeps his pouches of herbs back into his pack. He approaches me with still-flat ears and a not altogether pleased expression on his muzzle. But he reaches out to me with a steady paw, which I take, and helps me up to my feet. I retrieve my staff and pack, then he leads me back to what has become my tent.

He even helps me settle into my pile of furs that has become my bed and sets my pack and staff aside before sitting down beside me. He doesn't reach for me again and I do the same, still a little residual fear staying my paw. "Thank you again, Rasithenuk," I eventually say, stretching out my legs and pulling one of the fur-blankets up to my waist. I've gone back to speaking Circushan, because it's something I don't have to really think about. Also because I don't necessarily want Quinelia to know what we're talking about in here. "I am sorry for the misunderstanding, I truly am. I don't know what's going on with me." I don't meet his gaze this time, not wanting to see the possible anger in it.

But I do not get fury from the maned wolf, I get a sigh. "I did not mean to overreact like that, Cayne. I... am sorry for my actions, then and immediately after. I was acting like a pup again."

An apology is not something I was expecting from him, not this soon. "That's okay, really. I just wish I knew what it was that set you off so I can avoid it in the future. You're kinda scary when you get upset." I lift my muzzle and give him the best joking grin that I can muster, which sadly isn't a very good one.

But he hesitates in answering. I don't want to press, so I squirm down into my bedding further, until he does respond. "Do not lie to me, and there will be no problems." He says it in his serious voice, so I have no doubts that it's the truth, but there's more to it than that. Again, I don't want to press him when I have a similar hesitancy to be truly forthcoming about past problems. They're my business, just like his past is his business, as much as I want to know it.

"That's it?" He nods, meeting my gaze again. His eyes are still cold, but they've thawed beyond the chilling quality they had before. "Alright then, easy enough." I tug the blanket up further, then shed the cloak and outer layer of my leathers. "Now, I'm exhausted and I don't want to disobey the Lady of the Camp out there, so I'm going to rest. She sounded pretty serious, so you might want to do the same." I wink at him, so he knows that I'm teasing. I don't know if he gets it.

He does nod, though, and as I turn over and rest my head on my makeshift pillow, I feel pressure and another warmth against my back. A quick glance over my shoulder reveals the maned wolf curled up against me, his own clothes bundled up about himself. He looks so much smaller like that, and it hits somewhere deep inside me, like I should roll over and wrap blankets and arms around him to keep him safe. I blink at the reaction I have, then just shake my head and lay back down to rest. Silly me.

My eyes close and I'm gone.

When I open them again, it's not on the inside of the tent as I expected. My heart races in my chest as I float in an endless sea of blackness, nothing stretching out as far as my eyes can see. I panic and wrench my eyes shut, immediately curling up as tightly as I can in hopes that this isn't real. It cannae be real. I'm just outside of Meratown, lying in my appropriated tent with Rasithenuk. This has to be a trick, some kind of dream.

This is a dream, blessed one, but it is very real. A musical voice echoes the words into my thoughts, though I can feel them in the space around me. There's a pressure on my mind and body, something that I would normally associate with a powerful person's presence in the room. Like how I felt when I met the Mayor of Saridale, but amplified.

But a voice means that I'm not alone in whatever this place is, and I feel like I need an answer or two. "Who are you?" A very generic question, yes, but an important one nonetheless. "What is this place?" is what I ask next, when I get no answer. Maybe the voice is just shy.

You are safe here, blessed one. We will not harm you. We only wish you to Understand. The words grow louder, but the speaker remains out of sight, wherever they are. How can something be a dream, but still be real?

"What am I supposed to understand? What's going on?" I uncurl myself, trying to turn and getting no tactile feedback that tells me if it's working.

All will be explained in due time. Follow the chosen of Raven and Hummingbird and they will guide you for now.

There's a touch on my chest, then I feel as if I'm tumbling backwards, falling from a great height. Once again, I panic. I squeeze my eyes shut until warmth flows into my limbs once more and the pressure around me vanishes. Change, so it has to be something. I feel a weight over my body.

My eyes fly open and I lurch into an upright position, disturbing the maned wolf beside me. He grumbles and lifts his head enough to stare at me through bleary eyes. "Is everything alright, Cayne?"

I put a paw to my chest and focus on trying to calm the rapid beating of my heart, the deep breaths I'm taking. I shake my head, less as an answer and more to try and clear that, too. "Yeah, just a bad dream. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." I flick my ears back and stare at one of my paws. It looks the same as it always has, the same as it did in the dream. Did I imagine it would look different? No, I guess not, but something feels different.

The maned wolf snorts and reaches over to push me back down. "You've barely slept and Quinelia has yet to finish our food. Rest, I will keep you safe."

I don't want to argue, but the lingering feelings of unease from my dream carry over and keep me awake. That is, until Rasithenuk rolls over and plants his muzzle on the fur blanket atop my chest, fixing me with a half open blue eye. "I will put you to sleep if I must."

That shakes me enough to shed the strange feeling, at least for now. I settle in as he does the same, though he merely inches closer and tips his head on its side, using me as a pillow. I used to lay with my little brother like this when one of us had night terrors. The familiarity of the weight lets me ease back into slumber, where the only blackness I see is the inside of my own eyelids.