He's says goodbye. The words floated around in Faolan's head as she went through the motions of life, sleeping, eating, training for a war she probably wouldn't ever fight in- but if she did, it would be on the other side. She went through the motions like a zombie. Taryn didn't asked why, and Fao figured later Skylar probably told her about what happened in the woods. They probably thought she was just in shock about the whole situation.

Skylar actually took her aside a day later, his dark eyes soft. He moved with a slight limp and Fao could tell his wounds still hurt him- not surprising since he hadn't really doctored them by running through the woods for a day after receiving them. When his fingers, rough with calluses, touched her shoulder, Fao started to flinch away, but Skylar forced her to listen, kneeling down and taking hold of her shoulders.

"Fao, what happened there was not your fault," Skylar said fiercely, his voice holding a soft note it had not held when he spoke to Aric, "I'm sorry I yelled at you, I know its hard for you coming out of Valdemar to live here. It was hard on Aric too, as you can see, but none of that is your fault. You don't deserve to go back to Valdemar. You belong here, Faolan. We'll take care of you."

And Fao just stared up at him, knowing he could never understand. He thought she was only eight years old and as innocent as she acted. But Faolan was nowhere near eight years old, and she had the weight of Valdemar hanging on her shoulders. But she could not say any of this to Skylar, because her place was here, playing the role Skylar thought Aric had done, and doing so in silence.

A couple of days later Raleigh appeared in her dreams again.

"I've been thinking," he said, "Not that I can think, since supposedly I'm a figment of your memory…"

"Yes?" I asked him, feeling a mixture of fear and excitement, for now I knew for sure that this was really Raleigh I was speaking to.

"I think maybe I'm a ghost," he said, "But I can't really see the world. Can you see it, Carry? Or are you an angel, sent down to lead me to the Havens?"

Shit, I thought. He was really confused. I shouldn't have said anything. I thought of my discussion with Raul and stayed silent. The incident with Aric… I was no incapable of doing anything that wouldn't be for Valdemar. His death… it was something new. His sacrifice… it would not be in vain. Even if it meant I had to cause the direct death of every werewolf in that village, I would do it. Because they were attacking Valdemar. And if this meant keeping Raleigh from waking up, so be it. If it meant Raleigh waking up and me staying here, so be it. But even if it's selfish, I knew I wanted him here. Because aside from Raul, he was the only friend I had.

"I don't know anything, Raleigh," I finally whispered to him, "I'm sorry."

"It's all right Carry," he said, sitting down and hanging his head into his hands, "I just wish I knew… has it all been in vain? Did I die for a reason?"

"It's not in vain," I whispered to him, stepping closer to his despairing form, "It won't be in vain, Raleigh. I won't let it be."

Faolan slowly came out of her mood after seeing Raleigh. Aric's death had opened her eyes a little wider. She was tougher- Aric shouldn't have died, but oddly enough, she felt even closer to the werewolves than she had before. Even though she also felt farther- as the true guilty one in their midst, she looked at the werewolves now, truly looked at them. Before, she had distanced herself in order to avoid the pain that was inevitable when one of them died. But now that inevitable had come, and because of her, Aric was dead.

So now she looked at the faces that sat around the fire at nights, sharing meat with her, and she put names to those faces. There was Skylar of course, and Magdalia, and Taryn, and now Thorne too. But there were others. Individuals, with stories all their own. And Faolan felt she owed it to them to learn there stories so if they died, if they died because of her, she could at least tell their story and maybe a war like this would never happen again.

And the werewolves saw that Faolan had changed. She was no longer the shy, fierce redhead, an orphan, who talked to few and seemed distant. To them, that was when she first became one of them, for though they had always held open arms to her, she had only ever accepted the friendship of Taryn and Skylar.

She learned their names and their ways. Thorne had three daughters fighting now, fighting to earn the control that would allow them live. His wife had died in the war, and as Fao would learn, there were few who did not know those who died. They were a hard people. The children younger than her were Vidar- two years old and just a puppy when he changed. He liked eating ants and when Fao approached the kids as they played under Magdalia's watchful eye, he would change into his wolf pup form to bite the heels of those he didn't know. Kalvin was a year older, and Vidar's brother and seemed to have a darker streak. He treated his younger brother roughly, and rejected the warmth of Magdalia and Faolan- his and Vidar's parents were both on the front. It made Faolan wonder at what age they usually went to war. She really only knew Skylar's story, and he'd gained control when he was fifteen. No wonder people cheered for the name of Skylar Bearsbane. Speaking of which, she still didn't know why he was called Bearsbane anyway…

But of those in this village, and this was not the only village of werewolves, there was also Olaf, a middle aged man who had recently gained true control and had been sent back to the village when they were winning, and had an excess of soldiers. Faolan learned there was always some dispute as to whether or not they should keep those with true control on the lines- after all, Karse had enough soldiers to fight the war, though werewolves were an elite sort of soldier. From what Fao gathered, it was usually up to the werewolf. Olaf had chosen to return. Fao wondered why Skylar, obviously a warrior, had chosen to come back here. Either way, it wasn't surprising he was the leader, despite his youth.

Faolan also met Nils and Savea, a couple who'd fought together. From what they told Fao, they were opposed to war, as much as a werewolf could be, and were the most peaceful werewolves she'd ever met. Savea had a sort Druidic appearance and feeling, she wore her hair loose and knew every edible plant from the Dhorisha Plains to Lake Evendim. Despite the large amount of meat consumed by werewolves, they were still human, and it was Nils and Savea who did the gathering part of the group of hunters and gatherers.

Halle was an older woman, wizened in the werewolf ways and the teller of stories when Skylar wasn't inducting new members. She claimed to be older than dirt and Faolan liked her. She felt a bit of kinship will Halle's age, for though the old woman didn't remember her past lives she had a feel of wisdom, as older people often do, that Fao gravitated towards.

Esben was a warrior from another village farther south. He'd never been part of this war, and since he'd never shown an prowess as a war leader, he simply went with the villages. He had a craggy face and his wolf form was brindled. Apparently, when he'd hired out as a mercenary in his youth, he'd been shot in the neck. He survived, but had lost his voice in the process.

Then there were the younger ones. Like Donar, a sixteen year old youth that obviously worshipped Skylar. He was in the training classes with Faolan, and wielded a sword like he wielded his claws. His hair was blond and wispy- but as a wolf he was just brownish. He had yet to gain true control, and Faolan wondered if he'd be one to gain it in this war.

Toril was in her early twenties, and Fao could never figure out much about her. She wore her hair short cropped, like a man, and Fao had the uneasy feeling that if she could have chosen, she would have chosen to be a man, instead of just looking like one. She seemed a skilled enough warrior to be on the front, but she wasn't, for some reason.

And then there was Torvald. He probably spent half his time in wolf form. Fao wondered if he'd actually gained true control, because he seemed very angry and prone to outbursts. He was Donar's father, and the two seemed very close.

There were quite a few other children; in fact, most of the werewolves in the village were underage. There was a pair of twins, both with straight black hair, Aren and Bjorn that were never seen away from each other. They were under the care of Magdalia, so Faolan assumed their parents were at war. There was also Davin, a brown haired youth, Fao judged him to be about eight, who was more monkey than wolf. He was always in trees and had a very sneaky expression on his face most of the time. Dyre was a four year old with hair so blond it looked white. Faolan wasn't sure if she'd learned to talk yet because no words ever escaped her. Her parents too, were at war or dead. Roscoe was twelve, and very energetic- and noisy. Faolan often saw him bouncy around the village, wolf form or human. Sigourney was eleven and seemed to worship Roscoe… or something. The other children were Mikko, Mariuerla, Loki, Lars, Langer, Kirsi, Jorn, and Wray, and though Faolan didn't know it, she'd soon grow to know them all.

No one seemed to question the fact that Aric had been a Herald- after all, there had been a Companion with him. From what Fao slowly gathered over the weeks after his death, they'd found him in wolf form, against a wall of rock, and a Companion had stood fiercely beside him. They'd attacked, and there'd been a fight, but once Aric was dead the Companion had run off. The werewolves knew very little about Heralds and Companions, except that the Karsites considered them demons. From what Fao heard, it hadn't occurred to any of them to think the Companion was any danger once Aric was dead. This was good- for it meant Raul could still wander the hills relatively near, and that she would not be hunted down.

:He died bravely,: Raul informed her once, when she found Faolan dwelling on him, :Do not mourn him too long though- in some ways, I think his death was inevitable, regardless of whether or not you came.:

A few weeks later Skylar told them that they had to move their village. He would had preferred to stay, but the werewolves working in command with Karse demanded this- and it really only made sense. It was sad, Faolan thought, watching the werewolves gather their things from the makeshift huts that would soon house the warriors. There was an air of home about the place, and Faolan wondered if they ever had any permanent villages except in extended wars, like this one, that had already endured over a decade. It gave her the shivers to think of how far the front had pushed into Valdemar- and how long it had stayed there. Now, finally, the tide was changing- but how much longer would the war go on? Karse could still win, because the knowledge of the werewolves only slightly evened the sides- they were still werewolves with all the strength of Karse behind them. Which all centered down to one question that Faolan wondered every day- how much longer will I be here?

A/N: Please review!