Allia. She'd been missing this morning. So had Dar, Dolanna, and Faalken. Odds were that Dolanna went to see Renoit, or was out doing something, and had brought the others along with her for some reason. The city was probably safe enough now that Triana and his kin had eradicated anyone hostile to him. Anyone hostile to him were the same ones hostile to them, so they would probably have no trouble moving around. Of them, Dar was the only one he'd really worry about, but he was in very good company. The other three were veterans, survivors, and they'd look after the young Arkisian. In many ways, Dar would probably be better off out there than them. Dar was Arkisian, and that would get them into some places that they normally wouldn't be allowed to go. The others didn't know the language.
He stopped and looked at an old portrait of some strange, yellow-skinned man with very narrow eyes. He was seated in front of a strange white wall with panels in it, wearing an elaborate robe of yellow silks. The paint and style used to make the portrait were elegant, different from the styles of the west, giving the painting a much more exotic aire than the mere appearance of the man suggested. He'd never seen a man like that before, but the general descriptions he'd heard meant that he was from that land from beyond Nyr. It was amazing that the portrait had managed to come so far, and remain in such good condition.
He gently touched his chest. Last night's escapade notwithstanding, the injury was healing quickly and very well. With luck, there would be no lingering effects once his body was done mending, as some severe injuries did occasionally cause. Then again, those lingering effects could probably be healed with Sorcery. Sorcery couldn't heal the wound, but it could probably correct any effects caused by his body not healing itself properly, as Mist's body didn't correctly heal itself.
Mist. He hoped she was alright. He hoped she was talking with Kimmie, getting things out in the open, accepting her bond-child's trust in the same way she had accepted his. Mist needed someone, after being alone for so long. And after he was gone, if she didn't find someone to be her friend, she would be alone again. But Kimmie was a patient girl, it seemed, and she could probably bring Mist around. She'd stuck with her feral bond-mother this long, he had no doubt she'd stay with her now that it looked like she was about to get through the formidable defenses the wild Were-cat kept around herself.
He could sense Triana's approach. She appeared at the end of the hall, staring at him calmly. "Come on, cub," she called. "We have alot to do today. There's still much you need to learn, and we don't have much time."
"Yes, mother," he said, looking at the portrait one more time. Then he moved to obey her.
After a very long session of instruction, where he began learning the customs of the other races of Woodkin, they broke for a meal, then went right back to it. The customs could be simple or complicated, depending on the race, and they seemed to blur together after a while. It was nearly evening when Triana finally stopped, and only because the knock at the door wasn't anyone he'd seen before.
The Were-cat that was on the other side of that door was tall and stocky. A male, with red hair like Jesmind's, grayish fur with darker gray stripes, and a nasty scar on his left cheek. He was ruggedly handsome, but he looked ferocious, like a street fighter. But his voice was gentle and warm when he spoke. "Triana," he said with a smile, stepping into the room.
"Thean, it's been a long time," she said with a nod, taking his paws in hers. "Come in, come in. Are Shayle and Laren with you?"
"They're downstairs. You're looking very well."
"Age does that. Thean, I'd like you to meet Tarrin. Tarrin, this is Thean."
Tarrin stood up and looked at the older male. His scent was a little different from a female's, for obvious reasons, and something deep inside him reacted to the male's presence in an odd way. It wasn't challenging or threatening, it was just an awareness of this larger male. Like marking a potential rival.
Triana chuckled. "I told you," she said cryptically.
"You did," he agreed. "Tarrin, it's good to meet you."
"It's good to meet you too," he reciprocated. "Triana's said good things about you."
"I'm flattered," he said with a grin at the elder Were-cat. "Strong, isn't he?"
"You have no idea," Triana answered.
"What do you mean?" Tarrin asked curiously.
"He means that you've got your hackles up," Triana replied. "That's somewhat normal when two males meet for the first time. It's something like a feeling out process."
"I didn't-"
"Save it, cub," she said. "Right now, everything about you is radiating your strength. You don't even realize you're doing it. Thean would be doing the same thing, if he wasn't old and decrepit."
"Triana!" Thean objected.
Tarrin looked at both of them, then he caught his own scent. She was right, his scent had shifted in its texture. He was actually trying to do that? He relaxed a bit, and realized again that he'd been standing in a very stiff posture. He had no doubt in it now, and he felt a little foolish that he'd been doing it. "Well, this is, embarrasing," he said sheepishly. "I'm sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry about, Tarrin," Thean told him. "It's normal. I'm the first male you've ever met, so it's the first time for you. Us males kinda like it. It tells us that the other males aren't getting soft. They like to spoil us," he said, pointing at Triana.
"I'm about to do something worse than that," she warned. "Go get Shayla and Laren for me."
"Of course, Triana," he said with a fanged grin, then he left them.
"How long have you known him, mother?" Tarrin asked curiously.
"Since he was a kitten," she replied.
"He's nice."
"I like him. He's Nikki's father."
Tarrin stared at her.
"I'm not celibate, cub," she said bluntly. "How did you think I had four children?"
"Well, that's not what I meant."
"You meant that you don't think your elders still like doing things you cubs like to do," she snorted. "For your information, if you weren't my son, I'd probably be fighting Rahnee over you."
Tarrin knew when it was time to keep his mouth shut. He may be able to play games with Rahnee, but Triana was another matter. "Uh, doesn't that mean that Jesmind was doing things wrong when she-"
"Not at all. You're a bond -child, cub. That's not a literal relationship. In other Were kinds, bond-children often become the mates of their bond-parent. But it is customary for the bond-parent to wait until the child is accepted into Fae-da'Nar until they take them for mate, so in that way, Jesmind was wrong to take you for mate so quickly." She grunted. "It's really a moot point. There aren't enough turned Were-cats for it to matter."
"Just me and Kimmie, right?"
"Alive," she elaborated. "There have been others, but the human mind can't seem to cope with the instincts. Out of a hundred or so who have been bitten, only you and Kimmie managed to survive with your sanity. That's why we absolutely forbid biting people."
"It's also why you didn't just bite people to increase your numbers," he said insightfully.
"That's clever, cub," she commended. "We wouldn't do it anyway. Biting someone and turning them against their will is a serious violation of our laws. I taught you that."
"Yes, but wouldn't they suspend it since there are so few of us?"
"They don't want any more of us, cub," she said pointedly. "I think Fae-da'Nar would be tickled pink if we all just dropped dead. It would be a serious load off their minds."