A/N: And here is the next chapter!

To Faolan's surprise, she rose over a ridge and found herself staring down at the other werewolf encampment only three hours later. She knew werewolves could cover ground quickly, but she'd never actually had the chance to clock herself over a measured amount of distance. This was a quick run then. Visualizing the map in her head, she realized the two farthest apart encampments could get a single werewolf messenger between them in a day or two. Faolan paused, contemplating that fact. Messenger speed in Valdemar had been no where near that quick when she was Carry… No wonder this war was going on so long. Werewolves were a tough enemy.

Then she sighed and shook herself over, and looked down at the spreading tents below her. It looked much like the one she'd been sent to, but it was a little smaller. That made sense- her camp had the Commander. But the sun was still high in the sky, and Faolan had to make the return trip, so she ducked her head down and made her way down the slopes.

She smelled the sentries before they smelled her, so she gave a slight howl to announce herself, and a lithe black wolf appeared a few moments later, staring at her curiously. He came up to her and they sniffed noses for a moment before he nodded, and let her pass through. A fur covered skin was an all access pass to any of the werewolf encampments- and Faolan shivered.

Soon she broke through the trees into the clearing. This camp was a little newer too- there was still grass on the ground. It was very beaten grass, but still grass. She sniffed at it and inhaled the scents of werewolves- in both human and wolf form. The side she entered on wasn't very busy- she only saw a few people as she wove through the tents, looking for the one marked by a red flag. None took any notice of her- and why should they?

Feeling relaxed and comfortable- feeling welcomed, she finally spied it, and moved right towards it. She paused outside and peered under the flap. A werewolf sat there- half in human form, half in wolf. He only wore his leather pants- the rest of him was bristling with grayish brown fur. His yellowing eyes glanced up as she entered and he grinned, showing teeth too big and pointy for a human mouth.

Faolan came in all the way and sat down as the man- Fellay, she suspected, stood up from his desk and walked over to her, his gait and odd, half walk. The claws retreated from his hands and he reached down, unbuckling the message from her neck. He swallowed, and his mouth looked more humanoid, and said, "Thank you…" as he was opening the message, "From the Command, eh? Wait here a moment, I think I need to get a reply for this."

Faolan gave him a nod and lay down, resting her head on her paws as she watched him curiously. He did his odd walk back to the desk, read the entire message, then pulled out a log book of some sort, flipped through it, jotted down a few notes, and then pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and a quill. After a few minutes of dipping and scratching, he blew on the ink to make sure it was dry, ran a claw (his hands had slowly been growing more wolfish) down it, then grinned (still human) and rolled it up, tucking it back in the collar. Then he stood once more, did his walk over to her and kneeled down. Faolan sat up in anticipation, watching him still.

He grinned and said, as he buckled the collar back on her, "Yah I'm weird, I know. Give Dagny my greetings. Oh- do you need anything? Food, water?"

Faolan shook her head in the negative and stood up, shaking herself all over and stretching with a yawn. When she was ready, she looked up at him. He nodded and she gave him a nod back, then turned and slipped out of the tent. Before she left, she turned and looked back into the shadows and say Fellay standing in the middle of the tent, swiping with wolfish arms at the air and growling under his breath. The fur was thicker all over him.

With a snort of puzzled amusement, she turned and trotted back through the tents, past wolf forms and human forms. But then, from a far part of the camp, a high scream rose, pained and terror filled. Faolan felt as if someone had dumped cold water on her. She stopped dead in her tracks, ears pricked towards this horrible the sound. The Empath in her cried out, and she let it out, a little bit, reaching towards that scream. What she felt made her recoil in horror. A horrible twist of fear and pain and determination and horror… What was going on?

She turned around almost before she knew what she was doing and set off towards the screaming. Whoever it was, whatever it was, she wanted to know. If it was another werewolf- maybe she could help. Dagny had said these messages weren't top priority, and she was making good time. Taking a short break wouldn't hurt anyone.

As before, no one bothered with her, or even seemed to care that she was moving through. She was just another werewolf. As she approached, the screaming died down- but she knew still exactly where it was coming from. She paused outside a tent- nondescript, in appearances, just like the others. But Faolan was in wolf form, she could smell the tent's purpose. Her nose wrinkled. It smelled of blood, and death, and pain, and fear. With a cold feeling in her stomach, she knew that the person screaming had not been a werewolf.

Carefully she stepped forward, her ears pricked. There was silence, but then a voice spoke- a werewolf voice, cold and calculated. It sent shivers down her spine, and she could tell the person who had screamed was scared of that voice too. Even if she wasn't an Empath, she could still smell the fear rolling off of him.

"Tell me, my silver friend," the voice said, "Tell me, and maybe I will let you live."

"You," the screamer coughed- Faolan could imagine blood leaking from his lips as he spoke, "Will never let me live."

"That is where you are wrong," Faolan could hear the torturer grinning, "We might just let you live. But I suppose that sort of life would be worse than death, for you, wouldn't it?"

Faolan stepped a little closer, then glanced around the area. No one was near. She wasn't surprised- the werewolves in this camp were all probably as far from this tent as possible within the confines of the encampment. The easiest way to forget your side did cruel things was to ignore it when it happened. Faolan had done it- as Carry.

Since no one was watching, she stepped closer, and nudged the tent flap away at the bottom, peering in. The torturer stood with his back to Faolan, tall and straight. He still wore all his human garments, but Faolan could see his ears creeping up the side of his head, turning pointed and fur covered. She knew his hands would have claws on them, and his teeth would be pointed. His eyes would probably be yellow. She felt sick then, but let her eyes trail to the tortured. He wore blue and silver, as Faolan knew he would. Blood ran down the side of his head, and his eyes rolled in his head. For a second, his eyes met hers, and the fear in them became so intensified that Faolan leapt backwards.

She turned tail and ran off- she heard the tent flaps open, and someone shout, but she ignored it and kept running. She darted past the sentries- who let her go- just another messenger on a quick run. Her eyes narrowed to a slit, Faolan covered the twenty miles back in only an hour and a half, the message locked inside her collar hitting against her breast with every bound she took.

It was evening when she crawled into her own camp. The sun still had a few hours to be up, but things were quieting down. Sweat streaked down her sides and her tail hung low as she slowly made her way back to Dagny's tent.

Dagny congratulated her on her first run, took the message, and sent Faolan off, but Faolan was only half there. Her mind was wandering. She changed back and got her clothes from the corner and got dressed, then went to find herself some dinner- and then go to bed. The fire was burning low when she came to it, her eyes empty. She didn't even taste the meat stew that had been cooked up.

Her tent had been moved- it had been in Kemp's area of the camp. Roscoe and Sigourney were trading stories with a few other werewolves around their own dead campfire, but Faolan slipped silently past them and lay down on her bedding in her new tent. Well, new was a relative term. It stank of something that was a mix of decaying meat and stomach acid. Fao figured she'd get used to it eventually.

Closing her eyes and rolling over on the furs, she felt a wave of homesickness wash over her. And not for Haven. She wanted to go back to Skylar's village. She wanted to go back to the day's of running through the woods in wolf form, with not a care in the world- just some training for this vague concept of a war that floated around and stole between them, touching none of them but affecting everything they did. She missed playing games with Taryn, her long talks with Skylar, she missed knowing Raul was close.

Haven seemed like a dream. Faolan couldn't even directly recall what Rathmir and Alaska looked like. They were just presences in her memories, warm feelings that didn't seem quite real. Faolan sighed, and hugged her furs to her side.

Is it all just a dream? she wondered, Did I dream being a Herald? Am I really just a fourteen year old kid that was bitten too hard and hallucinates? I'm just another werewolf with crazy dreams of being a werewolf spy, and Raul is just another voice in my head.

Faolan knew that wasn't true, but what scared her was how much she wanted it to be true, because if she was just another werewolf… A sigh slipped through Fao's body… Everything would be so much easier if she could just throw away the part of her that was a Herald.

"I just want to be a werewolf," she whispered to herself, so softly no one else could have heard, I want to gain true control and go home, wait until this war is over, then travel with Skylar's village across all of Velgarth, seeing the world, and being a pack.

Raul is so far away, she thought, I hardly feel like I have a Companion. Has any Herald ever been so separated?

:I'm right here, darling,: Raul's voice drifted in to Fao's mind, faint and like a whisper.

:Raul?: Faolan reached out, and just barely, just barely, was able to trace that thought to the source, :You're so far away.:

:I know,: Raul answered, and her mindvoice contained overtones of sadness. Faolan felt sad too, and a little guilty about her thoughts from before- thought the guilt was more because she still thought them.

:How are you doing?: Raul wondered and Faolan rolled over again so she was staring up at the greenish brown ceiling canvas of her tent that glowed with setting sunlight.

:I'm okay,: Faolan said, and realized they were so far away Raul couldn't just read her mind- she really didn't know how she was doing without asking, :Its hard, being on the front. The war is real again. Being here makes me realize why the war has gone on for so long. I ran forty miles today, Raul, in werewolf form- and it only took me four or five hours. I'm barely even tired from it.:

:What were you running for?: Raul inquired and Faolan suddenly remembered she was supposed to be passing on information to Raul, to the other side.

Feeling bad, really bad, for the first time, she said, :I was delivering a message. I don't know what it was about, but I did get to see a Map.:

Then she concentrated really hard, holding the image of the map in her head, and pushed it towards Raul, :Got it?:

:Yes, Chosen,: Raul answered, then she laughed softly, :We should have sent you forward earlier if this is what we'd have been getting!:

:I couldn't have gone earlier,: Faolan said, feeling a little resentful, :They wouldn't have let me. What would a ten year old do on the front, anyway?:

:I was just teasing, Faolan,: Raul answered, her voice serious again, :Keep hope- this war won't last much longer and then you can come home. I know its hard, but you can do it. That's why you're a Herald.:

:I know,: Faolan answered, and then Raul was gone. Faolan could just barely feel her spirit touching hers, from very far away, but the connection was too faint to talk anymore. Faolan closed her eyes, and felt tears squeezing out of them.

Home is not where you think it is, Faolan said silently to Raul, wondering if she should have told the Companion how she was feeling.

Then she sat up quickly, and wiped her eyes, thinking fiercely, What am I doing? Moping around in my tent being upset?

She rubbed her eyes, and went outside into the setting even sunlight. The temperature was wonderful, no longer hot, but not yet too cool, and she stretched, moving easily beneath her clothing, then she made her way through a few tents to the fire- or lack of a fire.

"Hey Faolan!" Roscoe greeted her with a delighted grin.

Faolan grinned back, feeling the comfortable warmth spreading through her again, and sat down beside the fire, leaning against one of the logs and letting her head drop backwards onto her shoulders to gaze up at the blue sky turning orange at the edges, a smile drifting across her face.

"Hey Roscoe," she answered, grinning back at him.

A/N: The more chapter will have more action, I promise! Now please review and tell me what you think of this one!

Thanks go to...

GinaLee- Well, here's the next chapter! And another will be up soon!
Stormy Phoenix- Thank you for informing me wolves don't sweat. Oops on my part! And there IS more than one village- didn't I mention that? If not, now you all know! There are many werewolf villages, spread out- usually werewolves live only with those villages and fight just with those people, but Karse needed a lot of help, so just about all the werewolves were hired on and one Commander was chosen from among themselves.
Ban Capall- Thanks for your support!