"Just drop it," he sighed, glancing at Sarraya. But she only shrugged her shoulders. He felt a bit wary to get too close to her, so he reached out carefully and took his sword, then pulled away more quickly than he intended. The result was that he left two lines of blood on her palms, from where the lethally sharp weapon sliced into her as he recoiled. She didn't even flinch.
Now he felt foolish. Before he realized what he was doing, he was in front of her, looming over her, her slender four-fingered hands caught up between his paws. She looked like a child, a little girl, so close to her, and her small size compared to his own only reinforced that conception. She looked up at him without fear, her amber gaze unwavering as he reached within, through the Cat and into the All, and then did what Sarraya had done for him so many times. The will and intent within manifested without, and it caused the Selani's body to accelerate its healing process to such a degree that all her clawed gouges and her sliced palms healed over in mere seconds. His intimate understanding and knowledge of the Selani made it very easy for him to accomplish, and so the Druidic magic did not tire him in any way.
"You healed me!" she said in surprise, looking at her hands. "You're a shaman."
Shaman was a Selani term for magician, someone with the power to use magic.
"Among other things," he said gruffly. Where did that concern come from? Just that close to her made his fear of her return, and it was all he could do to back away quickly. It was almost as instinctual as his fear, he realized. He saw her, thought of her as a little girl, and it incited a protective response in him. Were-cat instinctual urges to protect children were powerful, even in the males. He looked at her again, and again he looked at how small she was, how young she was. That was it. Looking at her and thinking that way caused the fear in him to ease, caused other, equally strong impulses to protect to rise up. "What are you doing out here alone?" he demanded. "This is not the place for a child!"
"I'm not a child any longer," she flared. "I wear my brands as proudly as you. I was trying to catch those sukk, but the inu had the same idea. After I killed a few of them, they decided to hunt me instead."
This little slip of a girl, killing inu? It seemed ludicrous, but he'd seen Selani fight. This little slip of a girl had probably been trained in the Dance since she could walk. He had no doubt that she had done exactly what she said she did.
"I saw them bite you, but you have no wounds," she noted. "Did you heal yourself too? And what is that little winged thing?"
"That is Sarraya, my friend," he told her. "She can't understand what you say."
"How about if I use the Western tongue?" she asked in Sulasian, which served as something of a common language throughough the West. Most outside Sulasia could speak it who commonly dealt with travellers or traders. It was heavily accented, but understandable.
"Where did you learn that?" he asked in shock.
"My father taught me the human tongues of both east and west. I am training to be my tribe's obe."
An obe was the tribe diplomat, of a sort. They often advised tribal or clan chiefs in dealings with other tribes, clans, and humans. They served as translators when necessary. It was a very prestigious position, affording high honor, and only the brightest and most clever were trained for it.
"Wow, a Selani that speaks Sulasian," Sarraya said in surprise. "I thought Allia was one of the rare few."
"I knew that obe worked as translators, but I never expected that they learned Sulasian this far east," Tarrin told the Faerie. "We're still a thousand leagues from the Sandshield."
"We are trained to serve, and serve in all ways," Denai told him. "I would be of little use to my chief if I could not speak the Western tongue."
"I'll give you that one," Tarrin told her.
"Well, what are we going to do with her?" Sarraya asked.
"Send her on her way, I guess," Tarrin told her. "She can't be far from her tribe."
"I have blood debt to you. I will serve until that debt is paid."
"I won't allow it," he told her ominously. "I'm moving on, and I'll be long gone from here by tomorrow."
"Honor is honor," she said pugnaciously. "I know this region. If you are moving west, as it sounds you are, then I can help guide you around the desert's dangers."
"No," he said flatly. "I don't like strangers."
"I am not a stranger anymore," she told him calmly. Then she smiled. "I have told you my name. That makes us more than strangers, does it not?"
This little one was almost charming with that smile of hers. He looked at Sarraya, but the Faerie only laughed.
"Don't look at me. I don't have the backbone to argue with her. You do it."
"How do you know I'm moving west?" he asked curiously.
"You said you were still a thousand leagues from the Sandshield," she replied. "The sandshield is west, and it sounds to me that it's your destination."
"She's quick," Sarraya said in praise.
"She wouldn't be obe if she wasn't," Tarrin told her absently. Part of him absolutely could not believe what the rest of him was thinking. It would be good to have her show him where the Selani were in the region, as well as the more dangerous areas. It would save him time and potential danger. Part of him didn't trust her… but part of him wanted to trust her. She was Selani. That gave her a measure of trustworthiness right there. She wouldn't lie or connive. She'd say her mind and be confident in what she said. Besides, he was pretty sure that this determined young lady wasn't about to take no for an answer. She had honor to repay, and he wasn't going to be able to stop her until she felt that honor was satisfied. If he rebuffed her, she'd probably follow him. And she was so young, having her tag along behind him wouldn't sit as well as putting her where he could see her and keep her out of trouble.
Besides, travelling with her would be a challenge to the feral animal within, a decree to it that he would not be ruled by it forever. Just like the girl in that Saranam city, the one that gave him the scarf, he was receiving something of a positive feeling from this little Selani. If he was ever going to break his feral chains, he had to start somewhere, just like Mist did. Mist reached out to him. Maybe he could start by seeing how well he could tolerate this Selani. If he could conquer his fear of her, perhaps there was hope he could conquer his fear of all strangers.
"What do you think, Sarraya?"
"She'll be better conversation than you," Sarraya shot back with a grin. "Besides, a little guiding through this region may not be a bad thing. She'll keep us from going into any box canyons."
"I only did that once," he protested as he started to clean the blood off of him. His clothes were pretty well torn, but that would have to wait. He didn't want to linger near so many dead carcasses. They would probably attract scavengers, scavengers not afraid to add a Selani and a Were-cat to the menu.
"Once was all I'm going to give you," Sarraya winked. "But the choice is yours. She'll cause you more problems than me."
"Cause problems? How will I do that?" the Selani demanded.
"By being here," Sarraya told her. "My large friend here isn't too comfortable around people he doesn't know. Your presence may upset him."
"I see the truth of it," Denai said. "He turned on me after killing the inu as if I were his next foe."
"He's like that, but don't let it confuse you. He's really a little pussycat, once you get to know him."
"Sarraya!"
"Well, it's true," she grinned. "You may be better off walking away, Selani. Travelling with the likes of us won't be a very fun experience, and honor will be satisfied because you'll do it with his blessing."