A/N: Here's an uber long chapter!
"I'm a Scout again, Raleigh," I told him as I leaned against a tree. Raleigh was watching the wolves run through the forest, sleek and silent, below us in the valley. It was one of his memories- or dreams- or nightmares or… whatever. He was pale, and drawn. His hair was long, as it always was in these dreams. He didn't know they kept it short on his body, back in Haven. He didn't know his muscles were gone and he was a pale skeleton, lying in a forgotten room in a forgotten part of the Healer's Collegium. What would it be like to wake up and find out fifteen years had gone by- that you'd aged fifteen years? He was twenty when I died- when Carry died, so he'd been around thirty-five now.
"Did you ever stop being a Scout?" he replied a moment later, looking over at me sadly.
Did I? I wondered, kicking at the leaves on the ground. I wondered if I could just pinch Raleigh and make him wake up. Pinch yourself to make sure you're not dreaming. That didn't even make sense. I'd felt pain in my dreams before… I'd had dreams so vivid I couldn't even convince myself it was a dream to wake up.
"I guess not," I said in answer to his question and watched him watch the wolves. I wondered if he always saw wolves. It was so terrible, what was happening to him. He was trapped inside a nightmare- permanently. Or at least until he could get it together and wake up. Or die. Wake up or die. I shivered. A horn sounded somewhere and I realized it was time for me wake up. I smiled farewell to Raleigh as the
canvas of the tent materialized above Faolan. She sighed, then groaned and rolled over, Raleigh's image still flashing in front of her eyes. Berit was moving over on the other side of the tent though, so Faolan pulled herself into a sitting position and forced her eyes open.
It was a few weeks since she'd seen Alaska, a few terrible, stressful weeks. She'd hadn't seen him again, and no one had questioned her scouting of that valley. They'd come in yesterday, and Faolan was glad to be back at the camp for a break. She'd forced herself to report the positions of two Valdemaren guerilla groups, and gained some status in Ursula's eyes- having mindspeech was a great asset to scouting.
A few minutes later she stepped outside in the morning air. A bit of mist hung over the area, floating and twisting between the tents. The sun would burn it away soon. Just as she was about to turn and go find some breakfast, Ursula materialized and barked a short, "Faolan!"
Faolan turned, reaching a hand back to adjust her long ponytail and said, "Yes sir?"
"Dagny wants you for a messenger run. Report there right after breakfast- might be all day," she growled and Faolan nodded and then Ursula was gone. A few werewolves poked their heads out of the tents, yawning and getting ready to go get breakfast. Seath padded out of his tent, in wolf form as usual, and wagged his tail when he saw Faolan. She grinned and as Berit came out of their tent she headed over to the main fire.
As she munching a bowl of oatmeal, perched on one of the log benches, Roscoe appeared, bowl in hand, and sat down beside her, a grin upon his face. Sigourney came over a few minutes later and sat down as well with a faint smile for Faolan.
"This guy in my group got true control," Roscoe said offhandedly as he shoveled the oatmeal into his mouth, "Intense, huh? I hope we get it soon. War sucks."
"You've been assigned?" Faolan asked, wishing the oatmeal had more flavoring.
"Yeah," Roscoe nodded, "Sigourney and I are still together- we're both soldiers of course. No scouting for Roscoe!"
His expression darkened after a moment and he stared at his oatmeal with a sigh, then added, "It's rough out there, Faolan. I'm glad you're not in the real dirty part of the war. But hey… it's what we do, what we have to do."
"Scouting isn't all that nice, either," Faolan answered, "I hope you get true control soon, Roscoe."
"So uh…" Roscoe hesitated, glancing over at Faolan uneasily, "I heard that you can… uh read minds. Rumors, you know."
Faolan nodded and said quickly, "I can. Read minds, I mean. The Scouts like me- I don't need to be physically present to transfer information. Ursula's put me on messenger duty today- I suppose that has to do with it."
"Have you always been able to?" Roscoe inquired, looking as if he weren't sure if his questions were appropriate or not.
Faolan shrugged, "Apparently. I didn't know it though."
"Weird," Roscoe declared, and finishing his oatmeal, stood up, "Well good luck messaging, Faolan. I'll talk to you later, kay?"
"Yeah," Faolan answered, watching him leave with a smile. Her spoon scraped the bottom of her bowl and she stood up too, depositing her utensils with the rest and turning to head to Dagny's tent with it's familiar red flag.
Dashiell was waiting outside of it and he smiled when he saw Faolan and motioned for her to come inside. Dagny was sitting at the desk, scribbling rapidly on a piece of paper. She didn't look up as Faolan entered.
"Big stuff," Dashiell whispered quietly to Faolan, waiting for Dagny to finish, "They're sending you to an encampment a hundred miles from here and hand over the message- then you'll return- with another werewolf I think. The moment you're in range you and I will be doing some communicating."
Dagny's pen stopped scratching and she quickly rolled up what was written and tucked into one of the collar barrels. Her eyes slid to Faolan and said motioned her over and said, "This is to be delivered to this encampment."
She motioned down at the map spread out on the desk and pointed at a far encampment and looked up at Faolan, "From what I heard Dashiell explained the rest. Got it?"
Faolan nodded and Dagny waited while she pulled on her fur, fangs, and claws and sat down on the floor, looking up with yellow eyes at the people standing above her. It felt good to be in wolf form, as usual. Dagny leaned down and fastened the collar on her.
"All right," she said with a smile, "Good luck!"
"Don't get shot by a Valdemaren," Dashiell called after her as she slipped out, padding softly through the tents. It was humid, and by the huge clouds in the distance Faolan suspected it might storm later in the day.
A few hours into the run- and this one would take all day, Faolan heard a mindvoice brush against her own, and immediately recognized it as Raul. She slowed down a bit, letting her focus drift inwards and her paws navigate the terrain on their own.
:Faolan?: Raul inquired again, her voice stronger, filling Faolan with warmth.
:I'm here, Raul,: Faolan answered, feeling the message barrel beating rhythmically against her chest. They'd spoken before- and Faolan had explained what had happened when Dashiell caught her mindspeaking. Raul had sounded angry, but Faolan hadn't quite managed to get if the anger was directed towards her or Dashiell. It didn't matter in the long run, she supposed.
:How are you?: the Companion wondered softly, :I miss you Faolan.:
Faolan could imagine the little mare running around in the woods, dirty and unbrushed- looking wild and free, and felt an ache inside her. She missed Raul too- though not as much as she had when she'd first left her for the werewolves so many years ago. As horrible as it sounded in her mind, Faolan had mostly become used to not being around Raul all the time. Raul had become sort of a mystical link between her and Valdemar, less of a person and more of a physical- well mental really, reminder of who she really was.
:I'm good, Raul,: was all Faolan could think of to say in answer, :I'm getting used to being on the front. Ursula is a good captain. I'm worried I'll have to get involved in fighting though- recently we've been very much in the midst of things…:
:Yes well… I suppose that couldn't be avoided forever,: Raul replied, :Keep strong, Faolan. You've been doing wonderful. I know we can't push you too hard… but… any news for me?:
Faolan sighed and leapt over a series of rocks, letting her mind be momentarily distracted by her physical reality- then stopped short and said, :Actually… I'm on messenger duty now and I'm carrying a message…:
:What does it say?: Raul asked quickly.
:I don't know- I haven't looked. But I can,: Faolan answered, wondering why she hadn't realized this before. She sat down and checked her surroundings, making sure she was alone, then made the change back to human.
The humid air pressed uncomfortably against her bare skin as she pulled the collar off her neck and opened the barrel, letting several rolled sheets of parchment fall out onto her hand. Her neck prickled suddenly as a low rumble of thunder echoed from the east, over the mountains and a wind blew suddenly through the trees, rustling all their leaves. She glanced up, but couldn't see anything through the thick canopy, and so turned back to the parchment.
As she flipped through the parchment, scanning over the words and drawings, Dashiell's words came back to her, "Big stuff…"
:What is it Faolan?: Raul inquired and Faolan almost jumped, then glanced around the forest again, feeling exposed and blind without her wolf senses. She felt like someone would happen upon her- just because she was doing what she wasn't supposed to. A stick was pressing into the bottom of her foot and she shifted around nervously.
:Faolan?: Raul asked again, and the girl sat down on a rock.
:It's big, Raul,: she said, :Really big.:
:And…?: the mare prodded.
:They're planning a coordinated attack on the border. A sweep. Almost all soldiers will be out, forming an organized, communicating line of werewolves and Karsites stretching all the way across the front. Here- this is what the plans look like.:
Faolans stared intensely at the drawings first and felt Raul peering at her thoughts, then she read through the plans several times, until Raul confirmed it was all transferred over. Then she rolled the parchments back up, thrust it back into the barrel and put the collar back on before transforming quickly back into wolf form as a louder rumble of thunder crept up from the east.
:Thank you Faolan,: Raul said, :This is very… useful. Be careful, love. I'll let you go finish your duties now.:
:Good bye, Raul,: Faolan sent, stretching and sniffing the air. It smelled wet. Faolan wasn't sure if she'd be happy or upset about the rain- certainly it would make it cooler… She felt the Companion retreat from her mind and then set off again and her quick jog, darting through the trees and away from the approaching storm.
By the time she got to the encampment she was destined for it was pouring down rain, and there had been lightning and thunder for several hours. Faolan was almost entirely soaked through, but werewolf fur was quite good and she wasn't totally wet. Her vision was cut down though, and she almost didn't see the sentry that suddenly leapt in front of her, his large shape lit up by a sudden bolt of lightning. His lips were raised in a snarl and Faolan stopped short, dropping her tail low in submission.
Seeing this, he reached out and they sniffed noses carefully, and then he sniffed at the wet leather collar around her neck. With a snort through his nose, he nodded, and stepped aside to let her pass. Faolan did so quickly, and was soon among tents. There was no clearing here- the tents were arranged under the trees. From what she could see, this camp was quite small, only about a fifth the size of the one she was in. The ground of the camp was a mixture of churned mud and leaves, and Fao's paws sunk deep into it, leaving mud to cling to her lower legs and paws.
Winding through the camp she found the messenger's tent quickly by it's red flag, and ducked inside out of the rain. Inside, the rain made an odd echoing sound on the canvas of the tent, and it was still very humid inside. Faolan resisted shaking herself off and looked around for a person to deliver her message to- but no one was there.
Mentally frowning she stuck her head back outside and peered around- but only a few werewolves were in sight, and they were all quickly hurrying through the sheets of rain that managed to get through the leaves of the trees, their heads down.
She crept back inside and lay down in the center of the tent, her nose twitching as she inhaled the scents. After fifteen minutes had passed by she stood up again and peered back outside into the darkening evening. The rain was still pouring down and thunder still boomed over head- but no one came to the messenger's tent. With a frustrated sigh she went back out into the rain and went to search for the commanding officer's tent.
This too, only took her a few minutes to find. The guard sitting just inside the door let her pass when she saw the collar around her neck, and Faolan stepped into a very full room. An extremely large and burly man stood in the center around a smaller table like the one in the Commander's tent. A few other werewolves were also standing around, and all of them were peering at her. None of them looked like they expected her.
Faolan bowed respectfully to them, then sat down, waiting for someone to relieve her of her collar. After a moment, a tall, thin werewolf came over and kneeling down in front of her and unbuckled her collar, then stood up and brought it over to the table.
"Didn't expect anyone to be making runs in this weather…" he muttered as he handed the barrel to the large man.
"From the Command," the large man answered, pulling out of the still dry pieces of parchment that the enemy had already read.
His black, beady eyes scanned over it, and a line across his forehead became increasingly creased. Silence filled the tent except for the occasional retreating rumble of thunder and the pattering of rain from above. Faolan waited.
"Darach," the large man said, setting down the sheets, "You're to return with Faolan- that's the messenger. She's a speaker of minds apparently and will notify her camp ahead of time of your impending arrival once she's close enough to communicate. We're doing a massed attack on the border four days from now- right after the full moon is over. The Commander wants one officer from each camp to be at the Command- the attack branches from the center…"
Faolan listened absentmindedly as he went over the papers with the other werewolves, making marks on some other pieces and making a few adjustments to some maps. It was half an hour before the large man- presumably the one in charge, turned back to Faolan.
"Message says you're to return right to your own encampment," he growled from under a shaggy mane of hair and beard, "Do you need anything before that?"
Faolan shook her head. She was a little hungry- but as a wolf she found she needed less regular meals. She'd be fine until their return. He nodded and then motioned to another werewolf, this one with reddish brown hair and evenly built. She guessed he was Darach, for he immediately started changing into werewolf form. A moment later, the large man shoved a bunch of papers into the barrel of her collar and the tall, thin werewolf fastened it back around her neck with an encouraging smile.
"Good running!" the large man barked as Darach, in wolf form, slipped from the tent, Faolan tagging behind him.
They went out into the darkness, the rain, and the wind, and as they left the camp Faolan, moving steadily through the storm, had the feeling that this was the beginning of some very important happenings. And she had a feeling that those happenings would not, could not, be all good. She shivered, bent her head against the wind, and plowed through the trees.
It was extremely late- or very early, when Faolan heard a new mindvoice in her thoughts. She had no idea how far she'd come- in the darkness and the rain that had insisted on pouring down all night, she was having trouble keeping track of where she was.
:Faolan?: it was Dashiell.
:I'm here. The werewolf Darach is accompanying me. The message was delivered and received,: Faolan answered, feeling strange to be talking to someone she wasn't bonded to.
:Excellent,: Dashiell replied, :The Commander is here with me. He wants to ask Darach a few things, right away.:
:All right,: Faolan said, glancing over at the dark wolf that padded along beside her.
:I don't understand this, but presumably Darach will- how many in total?: Darach asked.
Faolan looked at Darach again, then pressed her thoughts at him, gently and said, :Darach? This is Faolan. I'm in communication with the Commander through another mind speaker at the main encampment. The Commander would like to know this: How many in total?:
Darach almost leapt sideways when Faolan's voice touched him, and their eyes met in the darkness. After a moment he nodded and continued trotting along beside her, and Faolan touched his mind again, listening to the thoughts that flitted through head.
One hundred and twenty, she heard, and quickly conveyed this to Dashiell.
After about an hour of this, Faolan suddenly found herself confronted with her camp's sentries, and she told Dashiell they were there, and slipped into the tents. To her surprise, many lithe wolf shapes were flitting through the tents, splashing through soupy mud and howling softly every once and a while. Fao's eyes flickered upwards to the heavy clouds above and realized it was the full moon. How had she forgotten?
Moving through the tents and wolves, Faolan led them to the Commander's tent. Inside it was dark- no lamps or torches were burning, but she could see all right in what light there was. The Commander was sitting there, looking regal and powerful even in wolf form. He was slate gray and his eyes had a very piercing look. Dashiell lay nearby, looking relaxed and even bored in darkish-black furs.
:Welcome back, Faolan,: Dashiell drawled into her mind, :The Commander gives his greetings as well. See if you can't slip out of that collar- leave it over near the table. This is it for the night- the moon's setting anyway and we're all free to run around as we please after a few more questions for our dear friend Darach.:
Faolan nodded and sat down. Darach copied her with a bow of his head to the Commander and the four of them sat in silent, telepathic communication for a few minutes longer. Then the Commander stood up very suddenly and stalked past Faolan and Darach out into the night. Dashiell gave a wolfish grin, letting his tongue hang out for a moment, before darting after and saying, :See you later Faolan!:
Faolan glanced at Darach, then went back outside into the storm herself. Lightning flashed behind the mountains- now in the west, and Faolan was presented with the sight of werewolves running around and romping in the mud. There weren't too many- Faolan figured many were out on patrol. She gave a little yelp, and then, feeling full of sudden energy, went off to look for Roscoe or some of the scouts from her group.
Before she found anyone, however, Roscoe found her. With a loud bark behind her the lightly colored wolf leapt over to her, splashing mud onto both of them. She recognized Roscoe by his smell- not by his coloring though, because by this time most of the werewolves were colored brown. Mud brown.
She responded to him by nipping him lightly on the ear then dancing around him. After a moment, Sigourney appeared, looking quiet and subdued as usual, and then the three of them ran through the tents, chasing each other and whirling around the practice field. They did it for hours- to when the sky started to lighten.
Faolan was skidding around a turn when she slipped and rolled through several large puddles, right to the feet of another werewolf. In the predawn light she stopped, and looked up at whom she'd splattered with mud, and found herself staring at the cold eyes of the Commander. He growled, and Faolan leapt to her feet and scrambled backwards, her tail and head low.
Roscoe and Sigourney appeared beside her, and they all paused to look at the Commander. He stared down at Faolan for a long moment, then heaved a great sigh and, with a head tilted glance at Faolan, lifted his nose to the sky and let out a long, loud, unearthly howl. Before it was done Faolan was howling in response, and the voices of many other werewolves joined them.
Shivers ran up and down Faolan's spine as she felt herself connected to the wild, wild and wonderful song that sprung forth from the collective throats of them all. It was the sound of freedom.
When it was over, the Commander gave Faolan one last piercing look, then padding away. Faolan watched him go, then turned to Roscoe and nipped his tail. After a moment, she felt her fur start to crawl back into her skin, and she nudged him a good bye and went to return to the messenger's tent, where she had left her clothing and chain mail.
After going to bed, Faolan did not wake until after midday- no one did, in fact.
A/N: Thanks to everyone who has read this story and thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter...
StormyPhoenix- Yeah Faolan is struggling with that- she communicates with Valdemar through Raul- probably via Rolan.
The-Elven-Bookworm- Dashiell isn't watching her constantly- he's the
only one with mindspeech and he isn't trained very well himself. My
impression on mindspeech was that you couldn't usually hear it unless
it was directed at you or directly at no one- so Dashiell overhearing
Faolan the first time was a chance, one of a kind event- he must have
been focusing on Faolan- even if he didn't know who she was.
ginalee- She can get in deeper. This chapter was nice and happy but not for long!
hannahbob- You sense well. XD.
oneswordsworn- Yeah, being on the front is not going to be easy.