A/N: And here it is. Up the moment I finished it. Happy summer vacation everyone!
Rain dribbled against the leaves outside the shelter, constant and soothing. Off in the distant thunder rumbled quietly, the last grumblings of a quieted child. Faolan's eyes glowed blue in the darkness, lit up by the faint light coming in from a flickering torch outside- lucky enough not to have been extinguished by the rain. There was a sigh from somewhere near and Faolan's eyes and attention briefly flickered that way. She was in a different shelter from the one she'd been introduced in; this one was larger and held Magdalia and her 'pups' as she called them. Each shelter seemed to hold an entire family, and they curled up like wolves on furs in the corners. Little was done inside shelters except sleep.
"Carry!" she heard someone say, in a voice crying out with pain- it echoed, as if from far away through a winding stone tunnel, black with dangers.
"Raleigh?" she whispered, her eyes wide and staring.
A shadow moved and Faolan closed her eyes to see a lanky form moving towards her, his eyes questioning and confused. And scared. I saw that once he was closer- deep, hidden back in those depths, he was terrified.
"Carry?" he asked again, his eyes searching mine.
"Sort of," I answered, standing up, and realizing that souls don't always correspond to physical appearance. He was probably seeing Carry, since that's the soul he recognized and body he associated with that soul. (Then why do I feel four feet tall?)
A dream, I sighed, looking over the man. His hair, unlike in real life, was still long, and tied back in a ponytail and he looked just as he had eight years before, nothing like the shell of a man lying in the House of Healing.
"Carry…" Raleigh said, dropping to his knees, "Where have you been?"
I peered at him, puzzled as to his question, so I said, "Learning. Telling. What about you?"
"Waiting," he answered, glancing behind him, "Watching. I can't ever find you, but the… the.."
He stopped with a shudder and closed his eyes before whispering, "They're all around us. I can't get away."
I thought wryly that here, yes, they were all around. And you are in a coma far, far away.
Around us trees appeared in a mountain I had once climbed over, searching for the enemy. I was Carry Rolf once more and this was the past. My eyes were wide in the darkness as I searched the valleys below for the movement of troops I would in the future learn were not all human. Cassandra, now dead, crept beside me, our ears in tune to the forest's whispering. Ahead, the Captain moved, swiftly, silently, stealthily, through the woods, tracking the footsteps of soldiers while we crept behind.
A howl rang through the night but we ignored it- a few wolves was no new concern, and we were deep in the wilderness of the mountains between the borders of Valdemar and Karse. Once we had their positions, Raleigh was going to report back to the Herald- Jamie Lauren, where he would transmit that information to the other Heralds, all over Valdemar. A communication system that couldn't be shot down by arrows. Sometimes I wondered what it would be like to hear voices in my head.
The next morning began as all mornings in the werewolf village began- with lots of noise. Faolan was woken by someone yawning loudly in her ear and there was some snarls and growls from even in human form as those who weren't early risers were jostled by those who were. Faolan opened her blue eyes and ran a hand through hair that had been recently brushed and now hung past her shoulders. The thin tunic she wore was soft against her skin and as she sat up she felt… cozy. For the year of searching she had dreaded this time, when she would live among those who killed her family and people but… it was different. The werewolves she had found were not the warriors, these were not those on the front lines. They were people. And I must work against you, Faolan thought grimly, glad werewolves couldn't read minds like she could- if she was careful.
The ten or so werewolves living in this particular shelter were all shoving out the door so Faolan stood, and followed them, listening to their chatters about meat and weather and war and love. None of it involved her, and few paid her any attention past her first day of introductions. It made her wonder how many stray werewolves wandered in.
Beside the center shelter was a great stone ring, and here a fire was burning, and what appeared to be a whole moose was roasting itself slowly, skewered by a small tree. Noses were twitching from that smell, including Faolan's. A few morning scuffles broke out, involving two or three werewolves rolling in the dirt, biting, kicking and scratching. One thing Faolan did notice about these werewolves was that the werewolf part of them was very much alive in their human selves, where Faolan had pretty much managed to suppress hers. They were all proudly selfish, greedy, and power hungry, which made Faolan wonder how they managed to live in a pack at all. But they all agreed on one thing- the pack was life. Was this why they were fighting for the Karsites? For power? She knew she had wanted to take over the world in the early stages of her change…
The sun was appearing over the mountains and the dawn air was fresh and Faolan allowed herself to enjoy it- spy or no. The dirt under her feet was soft against her calluses and everything smelled of pine and meat.
"Oy Red!" a girl shouted from behind and Faolan felt a shove to the center of her back. She whirled around before losing her balance, glaring at whoever was behind her.
A short haired girl of about ten stood there, smirking, wearing a tunic almost identical to Faolan's. Her eyes were such a rich brown they were almost red- yet the rest of her face was rather plain and she was skinnier than a stick, but wiry at the same time. She laughed at the expression on Faolan's face.
"Too stuck up to wrestle?" she asked and Faolan paused- wrestle? Her wolf self, more awake than ever among other wolves, growled happily in response but Faolan hesitated. Wrestle?
"Wolves are a pack," the girl said, "I'm Taryn. You're Faolan."
Faolan felt like sighing, for in truth, with the bright sun beginning to glint over everything, she didn't really feel like rolling in the dirt- Taryn leapt. In moments Faolan was flailing on the ground, struggling to get to her feet and get the wildcat that was Taryn OFF of her! And then she was sitting on top of the older girl, her hands digging into her shoulders and their eyes locked.
"You win," Taryn said with a grin and Faolan stepped off of her, standing up glaring at Taryn in mixed confusion and anger.
There is nothing her to tell the Heralds about, Faolan thought as some of the older werewolves lifted the moose off the spit and the feeding fight began. She waited in the back until everyone else had calmed down to move forward and get herself a scrap of meat for breakfast. And no matter what anyone says, people need more than just meat to live.
:Werewolves aren't people though, are they?: a voice put in and Faolan jumped from where she had sat down to chew at the fat dripping piece of moose she had found for herself.
:Raul?: she asked incredulously, feeling out for the Companion whom she hadn't spoken to in a month or so. Warmth flooded her body and Faolan recognized the mental arms of the Companion wrapping around her.
:Faolan, Chosen, how do you fare?:Raul asked, her mindvoice faint now that Faolan recognized it. The Companion was still far away.
:Well: Faolan said, nibbling at the meat, :These werewolves I find myself among… they are not the ones we fight. They are the friends and family left behind. There is little I can learn from them, Raul, and how can I go among the soldiers?:
:You can learn from them: Raul insisted and Faolan felt her looking out through her own eyes at the werewolves she ate with, :Watch. Wait. Listen. Learn. They know more then they let on. They can tell you where they are from, why they fight, their goals and loves and hopes and failures. They can give you their secrets, if you take the time and effort to do it. I have faith in you Faolan- and it is so wonderful to hear your voice once more.:
:I've missed you too, Raul: Faolan thought, thinking longingly of introducing her as a horse- but werewolves rode no horses, and then, because the Companion's words had spurred remembrance of her dream, :I dreamed of Raleigh last night. Do you know how he's doing?:
:I have heard nothing- but that can only mean he still sleeps love. If he wakes, you shall be the first to know and if…: Raul left it and that and Fao felt something inside her clench. He will not die, she thought to herself and bit fiercely into the meat.
:I will speak with you later, Fao: Raul said, :And you can tell me all you know. Goodbye.:
:Bye, Raul: Faolan answered, feeling the Companion slip away and feeling a little sadder and a little happier for it.
A few minutes later Taryn came and sat beside her and the two werewolves both mused in silence, watching the sun grow higher in the sky, thinking thoughts a world apart from each other. Once the entire pack was satiated with meat the young werewolf that had found Faolan stood and beckoned all those under the age of fifteen, (there were none older beside him until the age of thirty), to follow him and Faolan stood with the rest. Only those unable to walk or talk did not go.
They wove through the trees, like every day, until they reached what Taryn whispered to Faolan was called the Rocks. It was no creative name- the area was rocky and pitted with crevices and pillars of stone. Between the woods and the beginning of the Rocks was a stretch of sandy scrub where Faolan learned that werewolves did fight with weapons. Of course- she had seen them do so. Each of them, there was about thirty all told, was handed a bow and a quiver of arrows and set before a target. This was Faolan's favorite part of the day. The targets were painted rawhide, and, this always gave Faolan shivers, they were all white. They were hung on the rocks and studded with holes and pockmarked from the practice. So Faolan knew that though she was not among warriors, she was among those that would one day take arms up against Valdemar. She practiced archery with her enemy.
Faolan, that warm and sunny day, found herself situated near the end, next to Taryn again- the wolf girl was beginning to stalk her. The one who taught them, he who had found her, was named Skylar. He was good at Archery, but no where near the skill of the Heraldic Weaponsmaster. And those he taught were all clumsy beginners. Well, mostly. A few were okay, and a few were better than Faolan for she too, was truly a beginner.
They started only twenty yards from the targets, each with twelve arrows in their quivers, spiked into the ground, all painted black and peeling. The tips were only sharpened wood- Faolan suspected the only steel they had was stolen. These people were no blacksmiths, they were a nomadic, bandit people. At that moment, Faolan felt a surge of rage at the werewolves. How could they live so happily and peacefully knowing their kind was slaughtering Valdemarens? How? Why? But then she quieted, because that's why she was there, to find the why.
Standing there, as one of them, Faolan pulled arrows from her quiver to the call of Skylar and releasing again at his call. She quickly sunk into the rhythm of drawing, knocking, and shooting, and the dull thunk of the arrows sinking into the rawhide. Some arrows hit near the center, others flew off into the rocks, but it didn't matter. The rhythm mattered. Around her other arrows thudded into their targets, before hers of after hers, and the whistling of arrows filled the warming air.
