He knew she had stalked them, though not why. Her scent had circled their camp, ringing it with the smell of a storm below the trees. Whatever they had done to attract her attention had kept her with them for hours, had kept her watching and prowling the edges of their camp as they turned on each other.

He knew she had watched them die, bleeding out like sacrifices from days long past.

He knew she had turned away from the temptation of fresh blood; there had been no evidence of feeding, no sign that those men had been her kill.

As it was, his desire to know what happened to draw her to those men, rough as they were, was only added to the ever growing list of curiosity concerning Wren.

"Please tell me you're gonna ask what the stalking and watching thing was about, D. Kid's weird enough as it is, really don't need to add some kind of creepy voyeurism to the list."

"Perhaps"

"She's not really pushing to stay ahead of us, ya know. We're what, a couple of days behind her now? What are you gonna do when you catch her?

"I don't know."

"You're not one for a lot of talking and I doubt she's gonna volunteer a whole lot. Especially anything about a court upbringing. I mean, come on, D. Your gonna have to talk to her, ya know? Or not talk, heh heh. Pretty little thing like her, I'm sure she'd be fine doing… mph…"

D clenched his fist on the reins to cut off the thing's voice. He didn't need to listen to the direction the conversation was headed in.

That's not why I'm tracking her.

And it didn't need to become one of the reasons, either. She was the first dhampire that was like him. The first he had ever met that truly walked the blade's edge between human and vampire, that hadn't ended up corrupted by the Sire's bloody nature. Even when it seemed she had been raised, at least partially, in a Noble's home.

Strength and kindness, not a combination he had expected, but one that he was pleased to find, as well as will to leash her own vicious nature. The canyon had shown an abrupt temper that could snap faster than lightening without loss of control, and the Rites gave proof to the suspected upbringing.

I will need to speak with her.

The camp at the north edge of the forest was not unfamiliar to him, the Kalindai had a long history with spending their summers here. That Wren had come to a stop among them was curious, though. He had circled the settlement and watched to see when she would leave but the girl seemed to have settled comfortably among them. A dhampire was moving openly through their camp and no one seemed to care.

Curious, indeed.

'It's surprising what the heart can make you do.' Her mother had said that to her once, back when her mind was still her own. She had been running a brush through Wren's own hair, long strokes meant to soothe. Soft hands and gentle murmurs, praise and warmth, all wrapped in hazy dreams and golden firelight memories. That was before the world had crumbled and home had still meant safety.

Now when she thought of warmth and family she thought of the Kalindai. One of the first places she had found that felt safe when she had left. So many years later she was still welcomed among them, and she was looking forward to the rest. The general happiness of the group never failed to ease her own feelings, and she was interested to see what they would make of an unexpected guest. Welcoming they were, stupid they were not.

Even so many years later that phrase stayed with her.

When she was younger, freshly wounded in spirit and body, her heart had led her here. Through all the long years that followed her heart had always called her back to these people.

The past two days had been filled with warm hugs and children's laughter, working on the caravan's trucks and helping to mend worn clothes. There were dances and songs in the evening and stories around the cook fires. It had been a slice of the kind of life she would never have, but she did enjoy visiting. Chores, different clothes, her horse corralled with the others, she even had her tent when she visited. The wide skirts and long dagger were a relaxed state she didn't normally allow but here, with these people, it was as close to happy as she had ever found.

Wren was settled in front of her tent mending her own shirts and hiding from the noon sun when the giggles started. The smaller girls liked to follow and watch her. Most of the children liked to do so. She smiled to herself and started to hum a lullaby as she sewed. The little giggles crept closer and she purposely kept her eyes on her lap, lest they scattered.

When the girls had settled in front of her Wren moved from humming to singing quietly. It was once of the things she did very rarely, singing. The lit'lings joined in one by one, clapping hands and laughing while they sang. The feel of their little joys swirled around Wren like tiny suns, warming her in little happy waves.

What better peace can be found, than in the love of children?

When the current leader of the Kalindai, a large bear of a man named Jesse, approached with a grim look Wren knew that D had finally arrived. The girls scattered, skipping and running, still singing.

"There's a fella looking for ya, little bird." With hands stuffed in the pockets of grey trousers Jesse didn't look pleased. "Said his name's D, fella looks like yourself. Half-blooded."

Wren grinned at him. "Jesse, don't tell me you're having him held at gun point."

"No, but he's sittin' on that horse o'his at the edge of camp. Folks like you could do some damage if there's a tiff." There was humor coloring the edges of him but the headman's face was serious as his eyes followed the path the girls had taken.

She lifted a hand and Jessie gripped it to help her to her feet. Wren brushed off the wide red skirt she wore, checked the belt and sheath attached, and smoothed a hand over the laces of her vest. The headman watched her adjust white linen cuffs with a shaking head before tugging his own worn red shirt straight.

"No worries about a quarrel then?

"Course not, Jesse, and if there are any problems the Hunter and I will be sure to remove ourselves from the vicinity." She couldn't help but tease the man.

Ready to go and meet with the older dhampire Wren placed a delicate hand on Jessie's offered forearm and walked to the southern edge of camp. Her own pale hair loosely braided and Jessie's wild dark mane and beard made them look shabby court in a way. The matching colors of skirt and shirt only added to the look. Wren stifled a laugh behind her hand just as they rounded the last truck and saw the group of men watching D.

Dark eyes focused on them as Jessie called his men away and gestured the Hunter forward. D dismounted and approached, face as calmly blank as always, but the feel of him was a mess of puzzlement. Jesse stepped forward and Wren let him go, knowing he had to play his part.

"Our Wren here says we don't need to have any worries about you two goin' at each other in the middle of camp, you willin' to say the same?" The posturing of her friend had Wren closing her eyes and fighting a smile.

"Yes."

"Good. My boys'll take your horse and put it with the rest. I'm sure you've got things to say so I'll leave you to it." She lifted her eyes to Jesse as he turned and squeezed her shoulder with one large hand. "Be careful, little bird." She gave him a nod in return.

Then there was just D and herself standing on the edge of the woods. He looked the same, dark hair loose with cape and hat shielding him from the sun. Fully armed and armored, not surprising that he made people nervous.

She kept herself from reading him further and gestured back the way she had come.

"We can go into camp if you'd like. The others will be curious, but they won't press."

D turned and looked to the shade of the trees before looking back to her.

"That's fine."

Wren grinned and shook her head before leading the Hunter through the vehicles and tents. The whispers were few and not unkind and small heads peaked around tires as they passed. They knew Wren but this large black shadow of hers was new and exciting to the children. She'd never had someone come looking for her after all.

"Here," she ducked inside a tent, "this is mine." D followed after, noting that it was an overly spacious circular room for a single occupant. The floor was cloth with large colorful pillows scattered around. There was a small stool and a basket of mending at the entrance. It was a far cry from what he had pictured for when he found her.

"They will leave us be here," she said as she dropped the open flap, "and there's no worries to being overheard. Between the two of us I'm sure we could catch a snoop with ease." She was smiling at him as she settled on a pillow next to a low table. Wren lit the lamp and turned the wick giving the colorful space a dim light, more than enough for them both.

He watched her fiddle with the books next to her and settle her hands in her lap. Posture straight, head tilted, eyes near glowing in the lamp light. She seemed nothing like the violent creature from the canyon, nothing like the wildling from the roof. She was a Lady in this little tent. A Lady awaiting the pleasure of her guest as a proper hostess should.

Definitely Court.

"I would that we didn't sit the day in silence, D. Jesse mentioned that you asked after me, why?"

"Jesse?" The man whose arm she had been on he was sure. D had noted the possessive stance the man had taken in regard to his 'little bird'.

"The man who spoke to you, he is the headman of the Kalindai. Do you know of them?"

"Yes."

A sigh as Wren dropped her head and closed her eyes. She grinned and slanted a glance at him. "D, we are not going to have a conversation where you only give one word answers." He watched her roll her head, stretching her neck before looking at him straight on. "I admit to my own curiosity for why you have followed me here. It wouldn't press to speak your own, would it?"

"No." A beat, then: "Why here?"

"Why here, what?" There was laughter lingering around the edges of her words. D sat still as she shifted, propping herself against her little table, long dagger shifted so she could lean comfortably. The dagger made him look for her sword. There was a mound of pillows by the pallet that could be covering her things.

"Why did you lead me here?" Why did you want me to follow?

"D…" It was said as a sigh. "Ask what you mean. Ask me truth, D, and I will tell you truth in return. I'll give you the same honor."

Honor, not courtesy. Truth and honor.

The lamp light lent a warm light to her as she watched him. Blank and pretty like a painting. No more smile, just waiting. Waiting for him to ask a true question and waiting to ask him the same.

"Where did you learn to temper your nature?" Wren cocked her head and breathed a laugh.

"Not quite what I was expecting. I suppose I learned along the way." She was smiling at him again, mouth closed and eyes like warm honey.

"No lies. Truthful answers, Wren." Her smiled died, her eyes cooled.

"It was the truth." A deep breath as she looked at the flame in the lamp. Her face was serious now though her posture stayed relaxed. "However, there were many conversations with my mother when I was younger. About remembering how much stronger I could be than others. How fragile humans could be, to be careful. Then there were the Kalindai and the reality of just how much fiercer I really am. I hadn't truly understood before that, the violence of my own nature. I don't think I would have without something to measure myself against."

D recognized pain as Wren spoke, the pain of regret. "Who was it?"

"There was a boy, old enough to marry, that took to the idea that I was who he wanted. It was about a year after I had first come to these people. I was," Wren pressed her lips and looked at him, "I was healing, but I refused him still. I knew better. I was a result of not knowing better. He pressed the issue, once. Nothing untoward, but I reacted badly. He knew what I was, they all did. I never made attempts to hide it."

D could see it. A pretty girl, wounded and needing a friend, the boy wanting to be more than that, two heads bent close as he tried to argue his wants, her backing away to flee. "I slashed him across the chest without touching him, deep wounds. I remember being so upset and how quickly it shifted toward deadly intent."

"He died."

"No, he lived. I ran, but he lived. I came back, later, a few months. I couldn't stand not knowing. He was scared for the rest of his life. He told me I would always be welcome here and that he was sorry. I didn't come back for nearly a decade." There was something in her tone when she said that, some kind of sad fondness. Lamplight showed her solemn face.

"What happened when you came back?"

"Is that really what you want to know?"

"Yes."

"He had married, had three sons and another child on the way. I was welcomed. I was given my own tent big enough for a couple, which is a tradition that still stands, and when he had his girl-child she was named for me." It was there in her telling, he realized. To her life didn't start with those she had been born to, it started with the Kalindai.

"His name was Damor un Kalindai and he loved his wife and children, he loved his people, and he loved traveling. He loved the summers spent in the edges of this forest. They were near enough to the river on the west with plenty of grazing on the north for the horses, and enough space for everyone to settle for a few months every year. Highest of all, though, he loved this forest because he believed that if I ever returned it would be to here, to where I had left them."

Wren turned to look at him then, leaned forward with gold eyes glittering in the half light.

"He loved me until he died, D, and he raised his children to do so as well. The men who have followed him as leader of these people have been all raised the same way. Jesse grew up with stories passed down for nearly a century, grew up with a fairy's tale coming to visit, now and then."

D sat still as she turned her head and slanted a glance at the 'door'. Felt that stillness spread within him. Knew there were people laughing outside. Heard the murmur of voices only a few feet from them and the rustle of cloth, the sound of hammers and rope, the sounds of life undisturbed by the predators in their midst.

"They don't fear you, or me."

"Of course they don't. I've acted for them, protected them, and called them home and family for a long time. I've taught some of those women how to sew when they were younger, gone hunting with the old men when they were boys. Done the same with their children now."

"D, Jesse was worried by what you are because you have the strength to actually harm me, because if we had clashed in the middle of camp we could have done incredible damage." A ripple in the stillness at the notion of hurting this girl, even when he knew there was a very real possibility he may one day have to.

"Other than that, he treated you as he would any stranger come to call." She was back to lounging, and toying with her books again. She had given him more history than he had expected, but he still wanted to know more. It was his turn to answer, though. He could tell Wren was gathering her question to her, wording it before speaking. All at once he was struck by how young she was, compared to him. Barely into her adult hood, no matter how many years alone.

"Can it be my turn, D. May I ask you something, will you tell me truth?" Of course he would. She had set the terms and he had agreed. D doubted they would be speaking otherwise. He remembered the passion of life on a rain slick roof, saw now the vulnerable side of that same blazing fire.

"Yes." She wouldn't look at him. She had been strong and proud in the desert, now she seemed soft and reluctant, again the urge to touch. He had a feeling he knew what she would ask, was still not sure how to answer.

"I admit I looked for you to do so, but why did you follow?"

Damn.

A/N: So we have D and Wren in tent together, who else is happy with where this is going? I forsee much time spent together ahead, however remember this will be a slow build, like either of these guys are the kind to really rush into things. Much love to you all and hugs to my lurkers!