'Dunland'

TA 2908

Gildor's POV

Spring came slowly, cold and wet, wreathed it seemed into eternal fog. As we had agreed we prepared to hunt orcs, and we were both happy to leave the cottage after the winter. I was glad we had a shared purpose for the time being - we went as much to find out how we would get along as to hunt. But first of all we had to stop by at Imladris and fetch supplies to refurbish the caches at the cottage.

Raven crossed the river with me, but stayed well away from the valley, retreating into the forested lands near the Last Bridge. It was dreary country there, all brown and dark green, dead grass and heath which had not yet realized it was spring. It was strange thinking he would hide in those miserable hills instead of using the amenities of the valley, but there was nothing for it. I went in alone with our two horses and tried to evade questions without lying. Faire was there, and I went to see her first, relieved to meet her again. I was even more relieved when she insisted on going with us. I had carefully mentioned that possibility to Raven, but he had had no objection at all to four-legged company.

Feather was still in Imladris as well, but when he heard of our plans quickly got himself ready to travel. He would accompany us back to the cottage and stay there to await the arrival of a rhevain group that planned to come to Eregion this spring. So between Faire, Feather's own horse and our two original horses we left the valley a day later, loaded like a trading caravan. Raven must have watched the road, because we did not even have to halt and wait. He appeared very uncomfortable with the idea of travelling with Feather, but I think he soon found that his doubts had been groundless. I had not only sworn Feather to secrecy, he was also very respectful of Raven's shyness and did not ask awkward questions, limiting their conversation to immediate subjects. They got along quite well, as far as I could judge, and with the horses to carry the loads the journey back was short and pleasant.

From the cottage Raven, Faire and I turned southeast and roughly made for Dunland until we ended up somewhere between River Glanduin and the Methedras. Soon enough we found signs of orcs, but it was cold ashes and long-finished feasts. Raven knew the mountains here better than I, and also the orc-paths. We spent a number of silent days stalking along those tracks until we were sure they had been deserted for quite a while. Though the paths were narrow, they were comparatively smooth and Faire mostly had no difficulty keeping up with us. We had climbed some distance from the lowlands again, and spring in these mountains meant icy cold nights which left everything frost-rimed in the mornings well into May. Though we still were far below the tree-line it was freezing cold and dampness was everywhere. The clouds pressed up to the high peaks, and though an occasional beam of sun came through it was quickly quenched by renewed drizzle. Water dripped continually from the boughs of the scraggly pines we were currently trying to shelter beneath and everything we had was soaked through. Raven had estimated we would need some days' walk yet to the nearest cave that was large enough to accommodate Faire as well. And a fire was out of the question since we had seen fresher orc-traces this morning.

Raven solved the problem of steady wetness and cold elegantly, wearing only a loincloth which he dried by the fire each night, if there was a one. I had tried doing that but had to admit failure. Controlling my body that way was a continuously draining effort that required concentration and willpower while Raven did not have to waste a single thread of attention on doing that. I could not say where his still bony body took the energy to keep warm that way, but at least he did not suffer the chill of constantly wet clothes. Most of the time, especially in this weather, he was wolf anyway. The change took energy as well, but furred he never felt the cold and water pearled off his thick pelt. All around was silence, broken only by the steady patter of rain. Gloomily I watched a small rivulet of water threading its way along the ridged bark of the pine we camped beneath, half expecting the drops to turn into snowflakes. Though I had curled up beside Faire I was freezing under my blankets. This was a temporary arrangement for my sake, because Faire could hardly lie around here all night. At least our travelling had whittled down the uncertainty concerning physical contact between Raven and me. At the cottage, I had hardly ever touched him after we had found a way to mind-speak across short distances. Here, we had to share every bit of body-warmth so that the black slept always right beside or sprawled over me. Which meant I had to lie beside a well-fanged wolf who was as long as myself if Raven did not curl up beside me unfurred. The first few nights beside the wolf I hardly dared to move. I had known I was bound to find this strange, the shift between furred and unfurred, but it was entirely different to have the wolf around in the cottage than deep in the wilderness. Still, he warmed considerably better than one's body heat alone and did not object to serving as bed-rug. He also kept off some amount of rain.

I was used sleeping beside horses, I would get used to sleeping beside a wolf.

And sleep I did, because I was regularly tired to the bone. That was also the reason the black was scouting alone tonight. We did not only stalk orcs, which in itself was exhausting business, we had to provide for our meals as well. Faire's help allowed us larger packs than I would normally have taken, and we had a small sack of flour and grain, but those were meant to last well into early summer. So each day's walk did not consist of crossing distance alone, but foraging had to be done while walking. In spring, there were no berries left, no seeds ripening, no mushrooms, and in the mountains, the ground was rough and stony. Faire had more to do than we actually to keep herself fed.

Travelling became a whole new concept when walking with Raven, as did wilderness. I had picked some things up with the rhevain and the Silvan Elves, but Raven brought up surprise after surprise now. He ensured that we had meat every day. If there was rich prey, he brought hares, rabbits, grouse, sometimes a mountain-hen or a marmot. More often he brought squirrels, dug up chipmunks or caught half-hibernating frogs. As wolf he generally hunted alone, but I always accompanied him on his unfurred excursions to learn where he dug up roots, bulbs and even a sort of spring mushroom I had not seen before. It was breeding season in the bird world so we climbed several trees each day to collect eggs. If we found greenery we usually took it back with us for Faire.

Now I also found out what had shaken him so much when first coming into the Eregion plains. I was aware of the land around me, yes, I could tell when danger was near, but I was no match for Raven's senses in that respect. As easily as he adjusted to the outside conditions he also kept a detailed, effortless net of awareness up. Mak'a'ara he called it in Ashi'kha, and it did not only tell him that something was near, but exactly what it was. If he decided to hunt deer, he could, if he wished, make out where he would find one. Nothing - not even a mouse fart - seemed to escape him. The connection he had to the land seemed to run like invisible roots in all directions, how far depending on the size of area which Raven chose to keep in focus. There were boundaries, but how far these extended I had not yet found out.

At a rustling Faire jerked her head up and I reached for my knife. A moment later the black wolf materialized out of the shadows, and I realized the rustle had been there for our benefit. Ever since he had surmised I had an ever-present vigilance like he, scared me silly by popping up and almost got himself skewered Raven was careful of announcing his arrival, at least when he was furred.

The wolf pushed his head under my chin, a gesture I had learned lower ranking wolves bestowed on the pack leader. His breath, quick from running, tickled down my bare chest as I scratched his shoulders. I found this a strange twist in our relationship for technically Raven was leading in the wild. I relied on him as to where to go and when to go there. I knew he would react to whatever came up without thinking and correctly. He was teaching me now, not the other way round. The wild was his home, to a degree that went far beyond the scout's or the hunter's conception of living in the wild. But in all other matters, Raven left the control completely to me, acting with strict wolvish submission, avoiding any fight that might have arisen over such matters. That was incredibly uncomfortable sometimes, bordering on unnerving. It had not been so obvious while we lived at the cottage, but we were even more dependent on each other now. The difficulties I had foreseen were definitely there. Wolves did not know shame, but often I felt embarrassed when some silly argument was broken by Raven's abrupt submission, turning the quarrel into a matter of dominance.

In Raven's eyes, according to pack law, the relation had been established on our first meeting. I had proved the stronger, he had accepted his defeat, and refused to challenge that order. It was a merciless conception, and I could not see why he would chain himself to that.

I dug my hands into the wolf's ruff and made him raise his head. Raindrops glittered on the fine pelt of his muzzle. He looked faintly surprised, ears laid half back.

"Stop that now" I told him "I'm glad you're back, but don't fawn like that. You make me feel guilty"

Raven returned my gaze for a moment, the wolf flattening his ears completely, then twitching them forward again. I could not read his eyes, and if there was a meaning in the gesture I could not decipher it. Sometimes it was difficult to decide who I was facing, wolf alone, or Elf looking through a wolf's eyes.

Wolf looking through an elf's eyes was the most disturbing thing. Sometimes I expected Raven to react even moderately elven, and instead met either complete puzzlement or quite, as it seemed, unmerited reactions. Raven relied on the wolf whenever something new or unforeseen occurred that did not belong to the wilderness. And often he got even more confused since the wolf had no concepts for most of the unfurred world.

With a nudge the black told me to lie down again, abruptly and almost indiscernibly switching from wolf to Elf convention. I was on the lookout for those changes, and communication by gestures had become somewhat easier, but by no means complete. Faire got to her feet gingerly, stretched, and announced she was going to forage. The black shook out his pelt, spraying droplets around, and settled himself close beside me. Soon I felt considerably warmer and, for that matter, safer.

'You fear the wolf sometimes'

I glanced at the black, startled at the sudden sending, but the wolf had his head down on his forepaws and looked sideways into the darkness beyond our camp. Obviously Raven was not through with what I had just said to him.

'I rather sleep warm than in fear. Simple reasoning, wolf'

I turned over and tugged the black's head around so I could look into his eyes. I could feel the wolf's reluctance to hold my gaze, mixed with Raven's defiance.

"The wolf kind of overdoes it"

'Pack law knows no exceptions' Raven stated mercilessly.

"Yet you are looking at me right now. You lie beside me at night and don't react like a wolf when I startle you. You think like an Elf. You can defy the wolf, even in his form. Why do you insist on this…this submission!"

'Would you have it otherwise?' Raven demanded 'You are the one insisting, insisting on seeing the wolf with an Elf's eyes'

"You contradict yourself, Raven-I-am-neither-wolf-nor-Elf. And you hide behind the wolf when you don't want to face me"

The wolf flattened his ears in frustration 'And if I do? Would you rather quarrel?'

"Yes. Better bickering than have you crawling all over the place!"

The black snorted and sat up, then shook his head so that his ears flapped 'I am following the wolf, Gildor. Maybe not perfectly and not permanently, but I have nothing else to hold on to when it comes to interaction. Let it be like this for the moment'

I sighed. The wolf lay down again and curled around me 'Go to sleep. I keep watch'

He did keep watch. So long, that when I woke it was broad daylight. Faire had not yet returned. The wolf sat a little apart and stared into trees. When he heard me stir he directed a sharp 'Hush. Listen' at me.

'I don't hear anything' I replied after a while.

'Yes. They are truly far away' He came back to sit beside me 'There were Orcs some time ago, some miles distant. The wolves followed them. They camp now. The wolves say so'

"And why the hell did you not wake me?" I pushed the furs away. At least the drizzle had subsided. The wolf flicked his ears 'Why should I? You wouldn't have gone after them for miles, would you?'

"No" I said after a moment "But they could have come upon us"

'Hardly' The black drew his lips back slightly.

"If they camp though…"

The wolf turned to look at me, suddenly expectant. I grinned "Then it could be worth a try"

Raven called the change without preamble and took one soggy fur to wrap around his waist. I supposed it was more for politeness' sake as the wet rag did little to warm. According to what I had gleaned from him so far the Ashi'kha completely relied on their ability to block out heat or cold. Clothes, as in 'neatly stitched garments of some sort', were for winter or when extra physical protection was needed. Garments would snuck on branches, leave telltale traces, and on the whole were considered more of a nuisance than an advantage. Also, the Ashi'kha always had to have the option of turning wolf and running without leaving some rag. After the years of wandering with his brother Raven knew enough of mortals and other Elves that he could adapt to their culture without immediately obvious strangeness. He found some of our behaviour exceedingly silly, but the wolf seemed to have quite a good notion of what these others would consider not only silly but outright horrible. And a good notion when it was better to adapt than to rebel.

"Eat first" Raven said, starting to work on a small fire. We stored a small amount of sticks under an oiled skin to have at least dry wood to start. Once the flames crackled, we could use damp wood as well, though it smoked. Our original tinder was gone, and Raven used some stinking dried mushroom to set the damp wood hissing and sputtering. He could produce a fire in almost impossible conditions. I was very uncomfortable with meddling in the life-force of things around me, but Raven did it without thinking about what he was doing.

"For a wolf you have a rather uncanny ability for calling fire" I murmured.

Raven shrugged "The wolf learns to adapt"

"Even to fire?"

Raven gave me a long glance, perhaps wondering if I was hinting at more than simple fire. Treelight perhaps. He fed small sticks to the flames until they burned merrily.

"Maybe" he said finally "Yes. Besides, you don't like raw meat, do you?" he stuck the plucked body of some bird on a stick and positioned it over the flames "Breakfast for you"

I eyed the bird dubiously "Where's that from? I thought you weren't away tonight"

Raven waved a hand at the thicket behind our campsite. "From there. And I wasn't away. Just quicker than the featherhead. Spares you an early hunt"

I shifted nearer to the fire and turned the bird over as it browned slowly "Definitely. Aren't you eating anything?"

"I have"

"Oh. I'd better not ask what"

Raven grinned "Mice aren't so bad. I will convince you that even mice can be dressed and grilled for a decent supper"

"Try your luck, wolf. You know, whatever this bird was, it looks very, very good in that light"

When I got ready to stalk orcs Faire joined us, and so for the second time I found myself riding hard behind the wolf running in front. Only this time I had no plough-horse and rode on Faire. And when we crossed through forest, she would not forget to take my head or knees into account. Raven had intended to draw the sentinels out into the dark so I could shoot them, but the orcs had broken camp before we arrived. It was a small group, only five, and that they were out here in the hills was strange.

'Outcasts' the wolf spat when he returned from his quick foray 'There was trouble and they ran. Let us go'

I had strapped his sword to Faire's saddle, but he insisted on staying wolf. I wondered briefly how he knew what had happened to the orcs, but forgot about it. The orcs were travelling furtively, creeping through the thin underbrush of the mountains. We followed, and when they realized it, they ran. The chase went downhill through pine-forest for a short while. Before I could stop him, the black had overtaken and circled the orcs. He charged right into the group in what I considered suicidal frenzy. The orcs scattered and turned. The wolf killed one, Faire bowled over two before I slipped off her back and attacked on the ground. The last went down under the wolf, squealing. That was easy victory. We checked the slain and knew we had to account that to their miserable state. Whatever had turned them into outcasts had played rough with them first, which would also explain their flight.

Had they fled further, Raven assured me grimly, he would have chased them wolf way, taking the last in line, cutting single orcs off. There was a time when even a wiry and frightened orc could run no longer and would turn at bay. I cleaned my sword carefully and dragged the skinny carcasses into a makeshift heap.

"You talk of fleeing orcs"

'Run they do' The black watched me beadily as I remounted and looked down on him 'You'll see. Change under their nose, and even orcs squeal'

That was true. We returned to our camp and from there travelled further south along the mountains. Several times we attacked smaller groups of orcs, but none was as easy to defeat as our first had been. The ones we found now were safely ensconced in their mountain-retreats, and occasionally escaped us in the wilderness of sharp rocks and boulders. Raven compromised in so far as to let those instances pass since Faire could hardly run across gravel-fields. Alone he would have followed every track, every orc, and once he had one singled out he would not let it go. I thought I should be used to fighting with four-legged partners, but where Faire tended to obey me or think in terms of safety, my or her own,the wolf literally did not think. And Raven made no effort to change that. With the single-mindedness of a hunting predator he would run miles and miles, regardless if it was a group or a lone scout. Once he narrowly escaped getting stuck full of arrows when his prey led him right into a camp full of more Orcs.

I started to get serious reservations about Raven's way of fighting. When he did not have a chance to kill quickly and out of ambush, or when he got cornered he went for hand-to-hand combat without hesitation, forgetting everything but the kill. He had an unsettling way of switching from wolf to Elf in seconds. That might definitely be an advantage in fighting because as he had said it scared the hell out of most Orcs, but for every change Raven had to let go of whatever weapon he had at the moment and estimate how to attack with teeth alone when he did so. He had to have the blade back the moment he was Elf again and often he found another Orc between himself and his sword. Surprise did not necessarily keep an Orc from striking. I always felt cold sweat prick me when he pulled a trick like that. Within a few moons he caught more severe blows than I had suffered within years of stalking orcs. Though his wounds healed fast and he seldom retained a scar the price he paid for a few dead Orcs seemed decidedly too high for me sometimes.

By the time spring oozed over into summer we were near the coast, in the lowlands. It had seemed wise to leave the mountains for a while. We had wrought havoc among the smaller orc-groups there, and chances were they would be better prepared soon, and maybe strike against us. We did not feel like making a moving target of ourselves. These lowlands, too, were wide meadows, but the forests were lush and green, their floors covered with thick underbrush. In Eregion, the wooded patches usually consisted of oak and beech with sparse undergrowth, excepting of course the ever-present hollies. This land shared the tendency to fog, but in summer it was a warm and stuffy dampness, not the cold affair it was in Eregion. After long weeks in the mountains, we were all glad to stay here for a while, even Raven. The numerous deer and elk made up for the lack of orc-prey. Also, we hunted them together and were successful enough to smoke extra meat for storing. We vaguely planned to spend the winter in the shelter of a cave. I was very divided as to that, feeling incomprehensibly reminded of the time I had fled with Silverleaf's group from the crumbling ruin of Beleriand. But the alternative was separating from Raven who still refused to go into the valley. Nothing seemed worth to sacrifice our surprisingly good companionship for that, and as I watched our extra supplies grow my doubts for the winter narrowed to finding a suitable cave that would not be invaded by orcs and provide shelter for Faire. The summer in the coastal lands was pleasant except for the frequent, heavy rains. We had no solid shelter here except a large hollow below two giant fallen trees. That, too, recalled the time of the Great Battle uncomfortably. I kept my mind on the present with a vengeance, and we worked three days on stuffing the gap between the trunks that formed our roof with mud and twigs, sealing one side against the wind with woven branches which we covered with rawhides. This near invisible hut was a combination of rhevain and Ashi'kha methods and served us well except when a particularly heavy rain made the floor swim. After the first time that happened we took precaution by layering the floor with thin tree-trunks, whose underside we notched to allow the water to flow through.

Now that we were storing supplies in our construction I had to swallow my pride and caution as to manipulating natural energies. Raven and I meshed our skills and methods to create seals that would actively keep unwanted guests from invading our shelter when we were not there. While in the mountains we had always been busy gathering firewood, hunting or scouting we had more time on our hands now. We could laze about. Though she carefully kept to the cover of the forest by day, Faire harvested fresh grass and leaves without much trouble. There were humans in these lands, and we were careful not to cross their paths. They seldom or never came here to stay, and rather crossed in haste through the wild areas where we stayed.

I used a warm, hazy morning to ride Faire again. She picked her way slowly through the dense forest, foraging as she walked. We neared the edge of the trees and the beginning of a wide stretch of meadow when she suddenly jerked her head up and stopped abruptly. Startled, I tightened my grip on her mane and reached for my knife, wondering which danger we could have overlooked. Fairë's nostrils flared and she moved sideways a few steps. Towards danger, not away from it, and I fixed my attention on the side of the overgrown deer-path.

'Sorry' Raven's mind-voice told me a second later 'Tell her it's only me before she knocks my brains out'

"Show yourself" I demanded, squinting into the thick undergrowth "or I may doubt there are any brains to knock about"

Fairë flicked one white ear forward and relaxed. She had no liking for predators of any kind, but she got along remarkably well with the changewolf. The black left his cover a few feet ahead of us. I still felt irritated. He had soundly interrupted a very quiet, very lazy morning.

"Will you stop popping up like that?"

'Had I meant to pop upI could promise you I would stop doing it'

Fairë returned to the easy pace she had held before our stop and the wolf fell into step beside us. He was forced into a swift trot to keep up with us, and the glossy fur gleamed when we crossed patches of sunlight. Something was going on between Faire and the black. Her ears twitched slightly as they always did when she was mind-speaking. It had vaguely astonished me how easily she included Raven into her mind-speaking range. But then, the two basically used the same level – she would not be as limited to reach him as she was with other elves. When we came out of the trees the wolf looked up at me expectantly 'Run with me' he invited 'Fairë is fast enough to outpace me she says, so let's try'

I nodded and leaned forward over her neck as she shifted from a fast trot into gallop. It was long that I had ridden Fairë anywhere for pleasure or that she had run for the joy of it. Her hooves thundered on the hard ground and I could feel her powerful muscles bunching beneath me as Fairë stretched out into top speed. The wind almost took my breath away.

The black's fur was blowing back in the wind of our speed. It was a quite exquisite sensation to be able to keep pace with him in a flat-out run that did not cross breakneck ridges in the mountains. We had come far into the open and Fairë turned our course in a wide arc back to the forest, slowing a little before heading in a straight line back towards the trees.

At the edge a large dead tree lay across the invisible line we were running. It had lain there long, and naked and snapped off branches stuck up into the air where its crown had been. Fairë's ears pricked forward and I braced myself. She leaped the tree, branches and all, at the highest point, jarring my teeth as she landed on the other side. Looking back over my shoulder I saw the black swerve sharply, almost going head over heels. He cleared the fallen tree where the trunk was low and smooth, still having to pull his legs tight under his body to avoid grazing the bark. Fairë slowed and fell into a walk before stopping, blowing heavily. Her coat was slick with sweat. Out of breath myself, I slipped from her back and leant against her shoulder. The black flopped onto the ground beside us, breathing hard, his tongue lolling out as he panted for air.

'That was marvellous' he stated with satisfaction, licking his lips and giving us a wolvish stare 'That was mean, lady horse'

Fairë whickered delicately and raised one fore hoof 'won' she declared 'wolves run fast, but don't jump high'

'Your horse is mocking me'

"You'll get over it"

I sat down beside the wolf and Fairë went for a small brook that ran at some distance, further into the forest. I watched the pink wolf tongue as the black still panted for air.

"Does that really work for cooling you down, or is it just…wolf way and you?"

The black licked his lips and snapped his mouth shut a little self-consciously. 'It works for me as for any other wolf'

Fairë returned sopping wet with a glint in her dark eyes.

"Yik" I scrambled out of her reach as she ambled up and made to nudge me with her head, water dripping from her muzzle "What is that about, mad horse? Do you think I was going to walk home?"

'Hungry' Fairë stated amusedly 'While I eat, I dry. Then you ride'

"Well?" I asked the wolf "Are you going to have a bath as well?"

The black got up and stretched 'Now that you mention it – good idea. Come. Leave the lady to her grass'

"Forget it" I said "I am not going to wet a single toe"

Nevertheless I followed the wolf down to the brook. The water collected in a deeper pool in one of the bends and the black splashed his way through an extensive bath. I would have supposed that wolves avoided getting their head under water, but either that was a wrong assumption or the changewolves were an exception. Not one dry hair remained.

He shook himself afterwards and settled in a patch of sun to dry, rolling over after a time to dry every part of his thick fur. I stretched out on the soft forest floor and listened to Faire cropping and chewing the long grass. She moved around us in slowly growing circles. Forest birds twittered all around in the canopy, and beneath the trees the air now was heavy and still. It felt like thunder was brewing, though far away.

'Look. Dead wolf' Fairё observed after a long while. Sleepily I opened one eye and watched the black lying beside me. He had obviously just woken and rolled over, now lying on his back, his front legs folded onto his chest and his back legs splayed, nose and tail curving towards each other on the side of his body facing me. Fairё shook her head in amusement, up and down.

'Want to see wolf-coming-alive-very-fast?' she asked with mischief dripping from every mental syllable.

'Leave him be, horse' I gave her a long look 'There is a gadfly right on your rump'

She whirled, whipping her tail around wish a sharp swish and stomping one of her back legs. Then she glared at me with one dark horse eye.

'Not' She snarled 'You walk home'

I laughed 'Mercy. Besides, you owe him one for that tree. Someone has to make you pay, after all'

Fairё snorted and snatched a mouthful of grass in demonstrative irritation 'You better sleep. When you sleep, you not bother me'

"Fair enough"

The day wore on, but neither of us felt like getting busy. Towards late afternoon the air seemed to have acquired a misty substance, and the smell of forest under a hot sun lay thickly on the land. I glanced at the wolf who flopped over on his side and stretched leisurely before drifting off to slumber again. I would have given a small fortune for that ability right now, but after a while I too fell asleep.

Raven's POV

I woke slowly, sensing more than hearing thunder that was leagues away. The sun still slanted through the leaves but had moved on from the patch I had picked out earlier. I stretched, glad to find myself in the wolf's body. I was hungry. There were many birds, but much too high up in the branches. Small songbirds. A mouthful of feathers, little worth the bite of meat inside. I yawned.

'Well, bed-rug?' Gildor asked 'Slept well?'

I rolled over to face him 'Yes-'

'Hungry?'

'Yes-'

'Thought so. But we'll have to go back to our shelter for a decent meal' He pulled a small bag from his belt 'Dried fruit?'

'Oh, delicious' I snorted sarcastically, then added a hasty 'But yes'

"Ha! Catch" He had more intended the toss as a teasing, but the wolf allowed me a proper reaction. I surged up from the grass and half leaping half rearing caught the fruit between my teeth. I chewed and bared my fangs briefly in the lupine equivalent of a grin.

'Show-off' Fairё commented.

Gildor grinned "Want some too?"

She wrinkled her nostrils in disgust and snorted, lowering her head to the grass.

'That leaves more for me'

"Earn it"

He continued the play piece by piece until the bag was empty. Most had ended up in my fangs. Thunder now rumbled softly in the distance.

"Think we're going to get into a storm?"

He asked that slowly, and involuntarily told me he would have asked something entirely different rather. I raised my muzzle into a non-existent wind 'No. - You are wondering. What?'

Gildor refastened the bag at his belt 'Raven…why are you staying here and do not go back to your people?'

I flattened my ears in puzzlement 'I…because I am…with you' I said finally.

'And…that is it? You are…I think I never realized just how much you are, well, a wolf. I mean, that sounds silly. But you are not just a…a change-beast, it sometimes feels like you are…'

Ah. I had guessed khai'toh would ask that one time or other 'Wholly a beast?' I asked 'I am. Sometimes. And sometimes not'

I lay down slowly, resting my head on my forelegs 'Why does that bother you so much?'

"That does not bother me…so much"

I glanced at him quickly. The wolf could easily tell me what this was about. But unfurred had considerable problems finding an answer. Any honest one I might give would also give my own feelings away 'You…you wonder what I am to you' I said finally 'What I could be to you. And what you think I should be'

He made no answer, only looked at me. I did not understand vach'khan tohr. I feared them. I feared him. Not because of his greater power, but because of myself. The wolf would follow the rightful leader. But leader in this case was friend, and he did not know, could not really know, pack-law. I would follow him as leader, but I also was his friend. Faire was definitely a horse, no mistaking there. But what could he make of me? Could he see me as his friend? I could say little else with certainty, except that his thoughts were probably running along the same lines.

'My people think of all other creatures as peoples in their own right' I said after a while 'Your kind does so as well. But you also distinguish between elf and beast and plant. The Ashi'kha only know beast and the other in that respect. Growing things are other. I…never thought of myself as elf before I was old enough to understand what my father said about you - about his old people. How they conceived of themselves. I did not see myself as different from what to your people is beast. I still do not. Not really. Am I anywhere near the mark?'

Gildor kept avoiding my eyes 'Yes. Also. Very near. Though I started out wondering that if…Well, you are very much different when you are wolf. Like…it is easier for you to…live then. Why then do you stay here, stay…unfurred instead of going back to your people and – well, live without the trouble you seem to have here?'

I flattened my ears involuntarily 'Oh. I – I cannot go back. No. Of course I could. If I wanted that is. But…I don't want to. I cannot go back without Niy'ashi. We left the clan together. It is not that I would not be allowed to return – but...Look, I could have gone back right after his death. Maybe I should have. Maybe Onakir would have known something to do. But I did not, and now I do not feel I really do belong there anymore. Not for going back to live there permanently again. Not yet'

But when else? I could not say. The past weeks had unmercifully reminded me of the clan, of Niy'ashi, of the way we had always travelled. Niy'ashi and I had always been equals, but K'ashi had been both our leader. I missed him. The lack of his advice, his guidance, seemed very obvious right now. K'ashi would have known what I should have done, and what I should expect. He knew what vach'khan tohr meant, he knew how to deal with them. When he had met Hurondil their positions had been reversed, of course. Hurondil had followed him, adjusted to wolf clan – but here I was, and I had to find a way to adjust to vach'khan tohr. Every moment posed a new obstacle we had to deal with, and I needed the wolf to do anything at all. Only when I followed him could I find a way to interact with Gildor. But he could not know or understand the wolf.

"Would you…do you want to go back?"

There was more to his question than he told me. I hesitated.

'Yes' I said slowly 'To the clan, I would wish to return. But it is all…changed now, without Niy'ashi. My place is…gone. For me, not because the clan would say so'

Gildor nodded slightly but said nothing.

'There are some wolves in a pack that never once hunt in their lives' I said after a while, not knowing why I laid myself open to attack that way 'Some wolves won't ever be pack leader and will never fight for that position. Not even for the right to mate that comes with that. Do you know what I mean?'

"No"

'I am…no longer whole without Niy'ashi. I am not made to…stand on my own. I cannot. I need someone. Always. There it is. I…need you. That is why I stay' I unconsciously flattened myself to the ground as Gildor opened his mouth. But he seemed too startled to find a reply. 'The wolf gives me some distance or I would never have dared to say that' I added 'Revealing secrets is dangerous'

"Ah yes" he said finally "You and your secrets"

'You have secrets of your own' I objected carefully.

"Yes"

I returned his gaze this time.

"So we are even, are we?" he smiled wryly "Look, demon-hound, whatever you are, I can keep secrets without using them against you, right?"

'I…think so' I got up 'So can I'

He gave me a long look "Good to know"

I shook my fur, as much to settle it as to cover my uncertainty 'Let us go home. Iam still hungry'

Chapter Notes:

Mind-speech: I assume the Elves can talk to their horses either in words or in mind-speech, whereas, of course, the horse would answer in mind-speech by transmitting images (as the wolf does when only the wolf is talking). I do not intend to imply anything like low intelligence when Faire's lines are not grammatically "sophisticated" sentences.

That very few wolves actually become pack-leader is self-understood; that some wolves never hunt is an assumption made also in one of these books: Jim Brandenburg's "White Wolf – Living with an arctic legend" or Barry Lopez's "Of Wolves and Men". I can't find out which at the moment.

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