"Oh. So they have to obey you? You're a Druid."
"They obey me, but it's not because I'm a Druid," she said with a wink. "Non-human Druids don't count, because some of us have Druidic talent. Out here, I'm not a Druid, I'm a Were-cat. But on my home range, it's another story. When I'm on my chosen ground, then the law of peace is still in effect. Because I'm a Druid on chosen ground."
"I guess that makes sense."
"I'm so glad you understand it. Anyway, that's it. That's the law we live by. It may sound simple, but once you get some exposure to our society, you'll understand that they were kept simple to deal with a very wide range of different races. If they got complicated, they wouldn't work. The rest of what I'll teach you is custom and practice," she said. "How to know when you're in someone else's territory, the marks and symbols we use out in the forest, the customs and society of the other Woodkin races. Things like that. You can get by just by knowing the law, but you can't function if you know what's going on. But that can wait for later," she said with a slight smile. "Right now, you need some food. Real food this time. I think you're ready for something solid. I had the innkeeper track down some veal. It should be soft enough for you to manage, and easy enough on your system to keep you from getting sick."
The idea of solid food did make his mouth water, but on the other hand, the broth she'd been giving him itself wasn't all that bad, and it had been filling him up. He would enjoy some meat, but the broth hadn't been a disappointment.
"Allia's relieving Faalken at the door, so I'll send in Dar to keep you company," she said. "I have to talk to Rahnee."
"Are you still going to punish the Wikuni?"
"Going to? I've already started," she said harshly, standing up. "Shirazi and Singer got here while you were asleep. I'll introduce you to them when they come back. Shirazi is perfect for something like this. The woman thinks of nothing other than the hunt. She'll hunt down anyone even remotely connected to the attack on you, and then punish them for it." She set the chair against the wall with quick and precise movements. "Mist should be here soon too. She's someone I definitely want you to meet."
"Why?"
She looked right at him, giving him that stare. "Because she is what you might become," she said seriously. "You're feral, cub. All of us are a little feral, it's part of what makes us what we are, but you're very feral. Mist… well, Mist is truly feral. I want you to see what being truly feral means. I want you to see it, and decide if that's how you want to live the rest of your life."
The way she said it worried him. He didn't respond, mainly because he couldn't think of anything to say to her. She still intimidated him. It made him wonder at this Mist. He remembered Haley mention her, so she had to be rather notorious. Or infamous. In his own way, he did want to see her, to talk to her. He wanted to see if she was really as bad as they hinted, or if she was simply misunderstood.
"Now, you lay there and think about the laws. If you can't recite them back to me when I bring your dinner, you'll have to sit there and stare at it for an hour before I give it to you. I'll also have Dar come in and keep you company after you eat, so I can tend to business." She leaned over him, lowered down and kissed him lightly on the forehead. "I'll be back soon," she promised, giving him a warm smile.
"I'll be here," he said lightly. "Unless I decide to go dancing, that is."
Triana chuckled. "At least you're keeping your sense of humor," she noticed as she opened the door.
He got his chance to meet Mist that afternoon.
She even looked wild. She was rather short for a Were-cat, but her body was powerfully developed. Where the female Were-cats he'd seen were lithe and feminine in form, Mist had powerful muscle. Her shoulders had a definite wideness to them, and her body was more stocky than slender. But she had a feminine figure, with a rather busty chest and wide hips, though she was holding herself very stiffly. Her fur was jet black, like his, but her hair was also black. And for the first time, he saw a Were-cat with short hair. Mist's hair was wild and unkempt, like other Were-cat females, but it didn't extend much past her shoulders. It trailed down the back of every other Were-cat he'd seen, including himself. Her clothes added to her wild demeanor, an old shirt that had more holes in it than continuous material, missing its left sleeve and the collar torn, leaving her left shoulder and a good deal of her left breast bare, and a pair of leather leggings that showed more skin than leather. But it wasn't her shape, or form, or appearance that made her look so untamed. It was her face.
She was very attractive, he decided. A wide-cheeked face with a strong, slightly squared jaw, but a very tight expression marred her appearance somewhat. More handsome than beautiful, but still attractive. It was her eyes. They were Were-cat eyes, green with vertically slitted pupils, but inside them was a frightening animalistic quality. When she looked at someone, it was like she was looking at a mouse. Her eyes were fierce, they were powerful, and they seemed to define her entire being.
His first real understanding of her came when she entered the room with Triana. Dar and Allia were with him, playing King's Crown, but that didn't last long. She looked at the pair, and she growled at them. Everything in her stance screamed her wariness, almost her fear, of the pair. She absolutely would not tolerate them being in her presence. Her eyes ignited from within with that greenish aura that marked an angry Were-cat, and it only took one look from Triana to have both of them quickly and quietly leave the room. Tarrin didn't trust strangers. Mist couldn't stand them. Triana put a paw on Mist's shoulder, and the wild Were-cat shuddered at it visibly. But when she looked back, that reflexive aversion to the touch abated, and she settled beneath Triana's palm.
"Tarrin, I'd like you to meet Mist. Mist, this is my new cub, Tarrin."
Her entire attitude shifted, like water pouring from a glass. Her stiff posture relaxed once Allia and Dar were out of the door, and the fierce look on her face softened considerably. But that look in her eyes did not fade away. Even Tarrin, one of her own kind, was still partially suspect. He realized with some surprise that Mist didn't really trust anyone. She tolerated him because he was her kind, the same way that he tolerated strangers. "Tarrin," she said in a contralto voice, a voice that was harsh and controlled. Tarrin looked over her shoulder, to Triana, and he saw that she was staring at him very deliberately. She knew that he had seen the truth in Mist, and she was watching his reaction to it.
His reaction was almost horrified. She mistrusted almost everyone. To her, being in the middle of the city was like being surrounded by potential enemies, and she could not bring herself to relax. She was very much like an animal, a caged animal that had been beaten once too often, and now shied away from everyone who approached it. Tarrin had felt alone from time to time before, but Mist was truly alone, because she could not bring herself to trust another. His heart went out for her. It must have been horrible to be so alone, even when surrounded by people who wanted to befriend her.
But he managed to keep his reaction to her out of his eyes, out of his scent. He gave her a steady, calm look, just a hint of a smile, as if she were no different than any other Were-cat. "It's nice to meet you, Mist," he said with warmth in his voice.
"I appreciate your help, Mist," Triana said behind her. "I know how hard it is for you to come into civilization."
"Thank Kimmie for that," she said brusquely to Triana. "I didn't want to come."
"All the same, I still appreciate it," she maintained. She opened the door again. "Kimmie!" she barked into the hallway.