(Lines in bold (but without *'s) are not mine but taken from 'The Empty Hearse' episode. Also, they are slightly paraphrased.)

(2) In The Moonlight

Mycroft didn't tell anyone about his surreal encounter in the forest. He complained a bit about the man & the horses fighting, but whatever had happened long after he had parted ways he did not mention. But he also couldn't stop thinking about it. There was something unnatural about that sound he had heard. Even his horse didn't like it. What could make that strange call?

He was so lost in thought over it that he didn't notice Sherlock had dropped onto a large rock next to him. Mycroft did notice however, when Sherlock let a cold wet ball of mud slip down under his clothes "What? Why you!" Mycroft stood up sharply, pulling things off to shake it out. Sherlock started laughing. "Grow up!" Mycroft huffed as he got dressed again. Sherlock was still laughing so Mycroft quickly shoved Sherlock off the rock to let him land in the dirt.

It was Sherlock's turn to shake himself free of dirt & twigs. "What are you thinking about?" He asked once he finished shaking his hair out. He carefully sat back on the rock but just out of Mycroft's reach.

"None of your business," Mycroft retorted.

"Ohh, yet you tell me to grow up," Sherlock teased.

Mycroft twitched his brow in annoyance. "How's Ishtar?" He asked in an attempt to change the subject.

"She's fine," Sherlock said. "Your turn."

"My turn?"

"Well, I'm the first one out of all four of us to sire a child," Sherlock said. "But our parents said grandchildren. They want more than one."

"So?" Mycroft groaned as he pulled a small twig off a tree branch & began peeling it. Once the last piece of bark had been stripped, he started chewing at the pale yellow wood, using it to clean his teeth*.

"So," Sherlock echoed. "You're seven years older than I am. I'm not even twenty yet. But I've become an adult before you did." Mycroft just laughed. "I did," Sherlock insisted. "Our own parents say I'm better than the rest. I'm the most sensible. They say that, often."

"Don't be smart, Xanthá," Mycroft snapped. "I'm the smart one."

Sherlock scoffed. "Oh really? How come you've never found anyone in all this time, then?"

"Who says I never found someone?" Mycroft defended, turning the twig around in his fingers before using the other end.

Sherlock stared at him. "Where's your proof?"

"Proof?

"A child," Sherlock said. "Like what our parents want. Plenty of grandchildren."

"Doesn't Elizabet want more?" Mycroft whined, tossing the used twig aside into the woods. "I thought women want children & lots of them."

"Perhaps, but she does need a break in between," Sherlock said. "Besides, knowing our parents, they want grandchildren from three of us. Theós doesn't count since he prefers his own."

"Perhaps Theós can change his mind," Mycroft muttered indignantly.

"I'm not sure that's quite how it works," Sherlock said.

"Why not?" Mycroft shrugged. "It works for me." They stared at each other. "I happen to like both men & women. I'm kind of into the men at the moment."

"I know," Sherlock replied. "I've seen you." Mycroft glared at him as Sherlock added, "I've also seen you try on one of Eurus' dresses. You seemed to like tha—"

"Change the subject!" Mycroft intervened, not wanting to hear another word. "Now!"

"Why?" Sherlock teased. "I think I want to talk about that a bit more, with our mother."

"Alright, I'm not talking to you, anymore!"

"Good," Sherlock replied while watching Mycroft's horse start sniffing around his mare. It suddenly went to her tail. "Oh, hello," Sherlock's brow flicked up into his long curly bangs for a moment. "I guess I'm getting a foal next spring. I'll give it to Eurus."

Mycroft buried his face in one hand while the horses finished what they were doing in front of everyone. He suddenly took a step towards them. "I'm done!"

"So is he," Sherlock grinned.

"Shut up!" Mycroft ordered. "Good night. GET OFF HER!" He grabbed the bridle to pull his horse away from the mare. Sherlock buried his face in his hands, laughing ridiculously.

Despite his feeble attempt at pulling the horses apart, Mycroft's stallion had indeed finished as Sherlock predicted. It was evident by the growing size of the mare for the next several months & she ate more than usual during the winter to support it. Though the foal was due just shortly after Ishtar's first birthday, Sherlock hoped the mare would birth as soon as possible. He had not forgotten the great wolf he had seen & wanted to ride out to get her before any of his family did.

Sherlock knew that if he tried to get the wolf with his brothers, they would all end up fighting over rights to her pelt. He also knew that most likely Sherrinford would win in the end, pulling the 'I'm the oldest' card out. It wasn't a good idea to go hunting alone, especially for a predatory pack animal, so Sherlock did eventually tell his best friend growing up, Enillydd Trefor**, & they decided to go out together. They would have to wait a few days for the foal to be a bit stronger for travelling.

Watching the foal try his wobbly legs in the meadow, Trefor asked, "So when are you having another one?"

Sherlock blinked at him. "She literally just gave birth, yesterday. Give her some time to rest. OW!"

Trefor had punched Sherlock on the shoulder. "Not the mare. You & Elizabet!"

"Oh, this has something to do with Mikró, doesn't it?" Sherlock groaned. "He sent you here to talk to me about more children. It will happen whenever she wants."

"I haven't spoken to either of your brothers in ages," Trefor defended. "I'm just surprised you haven't had any more since Ishtar was born. I mean, Elizabet is considered one of the prettiest girls around yet you're the one who gets to be all over her."

"All over her?" Sherlock stared at his friend, feeling an odd sensation. He knew he was different when it came to this strange subject of sex. He had always felt something was off. Something maybe not normal. But he never brought it up even though others always tried to talk to him about it. Besides, Elizabet had never mentioned anything. She seemed satisfied with Ishtar.

"Oh come on, Xanthá!" Trefor laughed as he pointed across the meadow to where Elizabet was currently sitting against the tree, chest bare so Ishtar could suckle. "Look at her. She's gorgeous. I know she's all yours but doesn't seeing her like that make you want to just bury your face in her breasts?"

Sherlock answered so slowly, emphasizing each word that it was almost Shatner-like. "She's feeding our child. I would no more want to ... to ... bury my face in Ishtar's food as I would in the foal's!" He pointed at his mare currently doing the exact same thing with the foal.

Trefor groaned & with a loud sigh, he dropped his face into his arms crossed over the top of a large boulder. He finally looked up at his dumb friend. "We've had conversations like this before."

"I know & I try to forget them!"

"Xanthá!" Trefor looked like he was making a very hard decision of whether to laugh out loud or punch Sherlock unconscious. "Women love to be played with. The more you fondle them, the happier they are. Girls just want to have fun. Trust me," he leaned in & lowered his voice. "The next time you're with her, try tasting her milk."

"What?!"

"They like that!" Trefor insisted. "Oh & another thing," he glanced around before kneeling down.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock looked down into Trefor's eyes which were currently in line with & very close to his hips.

"There's a spot right here," Trefor pointed close to something between Sherlock's legs. "They really like it if you lick it. I've done it! Makes them squirm."

"Get up, you complete idiot!" Sherlock demanded through gritted teeth. "Before you embarrass us—too late."

Mycroft had just walked upto them. "What's going on here?" He smirked.

Trefor leapt to his feet. "Nothing."

"He's trying to talk to me about women," Sherlock said before doubling over with a grunt of surprise & pain, clutching his ribs. Trefor had jabbed him with a finger.

"Really?" Mycroft raised one brow at Sherlock.

"Go away," Sherlock moaned.

"On the contrary, looks like I arrived just on time," Mycroft moved in closer, annoying Sherlock. He looked at Trefor. "What were you telling him while on your knees just now; or should I say, showing him?"

"SHOWING HIM? NO!" Trefor exclaimed as Sherlock turned & began to walk away.

"Not so fast, brother mine," Mycroft purred, enjoying this thoroughly while grabbing Sherlock by the shoulder to hold him in place. It was clear Mycroft wasn't going to let either of them escape until he had his answer. Trefor gave in & repeated himself, though he remained standing this time. Sherlock groaned audibly & tugged, trying to get out of Mycroft's grip. Mycroft finally let him go when Trefor shut up. "You're quite right," Mycroft said. "Tell me, Xanthá," he went on before Sherlock could take a step in any direction. "How do you feel right now, watching Elizabet?"

Sherlock glared at his stupid brother, then at his even more stupid friend who had started this whole stupid mess. Lastly, he glanced in Elizabet's direction. She had finished with Ishtar who was now in a carrying basket & was currently redressing herself. "Protective," was Sherlock's reply, glaring at the other two men once more. "I would kill for either one of them."

"How admirable," Mycroft said with that rather condescending smile reserved solely for Sherlock's belittlement.

"Unlike for either of you," Sherlock finished as he managed to walk away, ignoring shocked looks from both of them. He put in extra effort to avoid them both for two days but Mycroft was not so easily deterred. He was able to trap Sherlock in the horse shed, using his own stallion to block the door. Sherlock rolled his eyes. "What do you want now?" He had to get rid of Mycroft so he could find Trefor to go out on their private wolf hunt.

"Just going to ask how Elizabet is doing?" Mycroft tried with an annoyingly pleasant voice.

"She's fine," Sherlock replied.

Mycroft went serious. "But you aren't." He dismounted his horse & came into the shed. "I succeeded in getting more out of Trefor & I've had similar talks with you in the past. So has Theós. Even our mother has said you are different & she wants me to ask you a few things. Xanthá? Is there something wrong?"

"Yes! You're in my way!"

Mycroft held his ground, staring his little brother down. "You're not attracted to Elizabet, are you?"

"If I wasn't attracted, I would not have joined with her for life!" Sherlock defended.

Mycroft tossed an apple to the stallion. "People wish they were you since you ended up with Elizabet. They say she is considered to be the prettiest girl in our land."

"So everyone keeps telling me."

"Do you not think she is pretty?"

"I don't care how she looks," Sherlock said. "She is the mother of my child & a good woman to have in my house. Beauty is but a passing phase & fades with age."

Mycroft stared at him in shock for a long moment. "Xanthá, if you ever say that about her looks in front of her, or any woman, she would be highly offended." Sherlock just shrugged. Mycroft rubbed his face with both hands before saying, "What is WRONG with you?"

"Nothing is WRONG with me!" Sherlock shot back.

"You don't know how to handle a woman!"

"How can Ishtar be here if I don't?" Sherlock asked. "I know what to do with a woman, Mikró, now get out of my way!"

"Mother has mentioned a concern about this, before. She thinks you need to see the witch doctor," Mycroft stood firm in the doorway, his massive stallion right behind him.

Sherlock glared at him. "There is nothing wrong with me!" He repeated in a low voice.

"How often are you with Elizabet?" Mycroft asked.

"Nearly every day apart from hunting or fishing trips."

Mycroft put a hand to his brow & groaned. "Not what I meant."

"Then say what you mean!" Sherlock snapped.

"I mean, how often do you lay with her," Mycroft couldn't believe he had to ask this. "to couple with her?"

"Whenever she wants!" Sherlock snarled.

"Fine," Mycroft sighed. "What about whenever you want?" He waited but Sherlock remained silent, having no answer. Mycroft tried something else. "You do not like touching her?"

Sherlock tiredly closed his eyes for a moment. "I like it just fine."

"What do you like about it?" Mycroft pressed. Once more, Sherlock didn't answer. "Xanthá, I agree with our mother. I think you need to be chec—"

"I like it when she bites me."

"Excuse me?"

"I like it when she bites," Sherlock said again. "When we ... do that, I like it when it gets a bit rough." Mycroft turned & put his forehead to the wall with a loud thud. Sherlock came up behind him. "Now please get out of my way. I have to go see Trefor about something." He stepped around Mycroft & slapped the stallion's rump, making it move, snorting & spitting, to the side of the shed.

"You're an idiot, Xanthá."

Sherlock stood in the doorway, looking at the mare & foal cavorting in front of his home. "Maybe I am," he said. "I know something is different for me, but I also know how to take care of Elizabet, for any of her needs. All she has to do is ask." At that, he marched out & climbed onto the mare's back. He trotted her down the path, letting the foal follow.

"There you are," Trefor said as he rode up on his own horse. "What took you so long?"

"Mikró was getting in my way," Sherlock whined. Trefor opened his mouth but Sherlock stuck his nose up a little. "I'd rather not discuss it. Let's go." He kicked his mare into a smooth canter which the foal easily kept up with & led the way into the wild forests to find the big she-wolf.

Try as he might, Sherlock could not get rid of the most recent conversations he had with both Trefor & Mycroft about his sex life. Why did everyone focus so much on physical beauty & equate that with having a good time in bed? Was there really something wrong with him? He had lain with Elizabet more than once, but not often. To him, it seemed natural to take time in between. It was fine to let her decide when they would do that again. She was the female & should probably know when she was ready for another child. They could go for a month or two before doing that but she had not produced another child yet. Maybe human females were only ready one time a year & they had missed it, but shouldn't she know? Or did it have something to do with the red river leaving her once a month? Perhaps no one quite knew & that was why they mated like rabbits all the time. Should he try claiming her more often, perhaps? He liked the sensations when he was with her, but to get into that mood required a lot of mental thought & preparation for him; whereas, she seemed to be able to go into heat quickly. It was not the difference between male & female for both Sherrinford & Mycroft didn't seem to have this ... this issue ... that Sherlock did, not to mention Eurus who, so far, had been pointedly avoiding the physical aspect of life. No. The problem resided within him. There was no explanation for it. But at least he was able to handle a woman & even produce something with her, but why was it so much trouble for him to get physical at all beyond hand-holding & cuddles, which he certainly preferred?

"Xanthá Malliá, watch out!" Trefor's voice brought him back to reality a moment before his mare reared up & Sherlock slipped off, landing hard on his back behind her. The foal squealed & pranced around him as if he thought this situation was funny. Sherlock slowly sat up, rubbing bumps. Looking around, he noticed he was at the top of a cliff plunging into a deep ravine. Trefor was holding on to his mare's bridle while looking down at him from his seat on his own horse's back. "What is wrong with you?"

Sherlock sighed heavily. People needed to stop asking what was wrong with him for he had no answer to it. He forced himself to stand & walked around a little to work out the knocks he had gotten from falling off. "I'm fine," he said as he took out a pouch of opium from the saddle bag. He shot down a tincture of the stuff & slowly felt the bumps fade away. After putting it away, he took the mare's reins from Trefor's hands. "This is the ravine we heard the wolves howl in, so they have to be close. Keep an eye on that foal!" He tossed a loop of rope around the foal's neck to hold it close so it wouldn't end up being an easy meal.

They rode into the trees, keeping the horses at a walk with the foal anchored between them. The foal did not take kindly to being on a short leash & would often try to pull back but with both humans hanging on & his mother moving forward, he had little choice but to follow. Sherlock pulled his mare into a stop & pointed ahead towards the ground.

Trefor dismounted & walked forwards a little. Looking down, he saw huge dog prints. "These ARE big!" He crouched down & spread his hand over a print. "Compact. Round but large paws."

"Wait until you see her," Sherlock said.

Trefor stood up, still looking at trails of prints zig-zagging across the forest floor. "Um, Xanthá? Are you sure it's just one wolf?"

Sherlock tied the foal's rope to the mare & got down to have look. Seeing the prints, there were some variations. "Well, she had some large pups with her that are probably on their own now."

"Alright," Trefor nodded, looking scared. "So ... three ... right? Just three?"

"I hope so," Sherlock replied. If the whole pack comprised of large wolves, they could be in trouble; especially since no one knew how big the pack was. "These look like a day or two old," he went on. "They can't be far."

They returned to the horses & rode in further, following the tracks downwards into the valley where the Waldheri lived. Sherlock made sure to stay out of the main area, away from their homes built right into the hills as he skirted the wide area, keeping his eyes on the many prints. Come to think of it, the closer they would get to the hidden village, the more prints there seemed to be.

Both stopped & froze as they heard thudding as if a massive animal was running towards them. Their horses snorted & lowered heads to look for grazing, unperturbed. Had the thudding been made by a wolf, the horses ought to have spooked. Whipping around in their saddles, they saw not one but two more horses galloping upto them. Sherlock groaned as his two brothers pulled up, Mycroft on his side & Sherrinford on Trefor's side, hedging them in.

"Fancy yourself a wolf pelt, do you?" Sherrinford all but sneered. Mycroft was equally displeased at being left out as he glared while Sherrinford added, "I think we all deserve a shot at this fantastic beast of yours." He purred out the word 'yours' in a derisive way.

"I suppose you brought our father along to try to stop me?" Sherlock shot back.

"He can't be around dogs," Mycroft said. "It's just us. I say whoever sees that wolf first gets the pelt."

"Well, I saw her first," Sherlock said. "Last year. She had two older pups with her that should be grown now. Go get those. The she-wolf is mine!"

"We'll see about that," Mycroft shoved his horse forward, upsetting Sherlock's mare.

"CAREFUL!" Sherlock yelled, trying to prevent his mare from smashing into Trefor's horse & crushing the foal in between.

"Hurry up or you'll lose," Sherrinford also shoved forward, riding on one of their father's horses he had conveniently borrowed, ignoring Trefor's glare.

"I hate your brothers, Xanthá!" Trefor complained.

Sherlock groaned. "Come on! We have to find her first!" He pushed his mare forward & hurried after his ridiculous brothers.

They rode over the next ridge & down into a grassy meadow, only to pull up quickly to prevent crashing into Mycroft & Sherrinford as well as Tobias who was standing before their horses. Sherlock felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand when he laid eyes on Tobias, standing there, clutching the reins of both horses while his brothers sat still on their backs, holding their hands up. He had never seen any of the Waldheri mad before but now, Tobias was so livid that his eyes were strangely shining & Sherlock had the distinct feeling that he, his brothers & his friend could die here, with the way Tobias glared at them. He suddenly realized he also was no longer in control of his horse & Trefor was in the same state as two Waldheri women had come up & yanked the reins away.

Tobias looked the newcomers over. "A hunting party. Tracking large wolves, this one says," he jerked his head sideways, indicating a rather subdued Sherrinford. "How DARE you come here? Any of you?"

"I'm sor—"

"Be still!" Tobias cut Sherrinford off. "This is my land. I reign here with my family. You have no right to our animals, especially NOT our wolves!"

"It is my fault," Sherlock began.

Mycroft & Sherrinford rolled their eyes & their shoulders sank a little. "Xanthá! Do not make things worse!"

"Your fault?" Tobias ignored Mycroft's pitiful plea. "How so?"

"A year ago, I saw a large wolf yonder over by the ravine," Sherlock explained, holding his hands up. "I would have killed her then for the pelt but she had pups with her. I let her be to let the pups grow."

"So now you are back to kill her now?" Tobias gasped. "You will NEVER have the pelts of our wolves! You're on our land & whatever you take belongs to us. You can not take the pelt of the wolf in this land."

"I am sorry," Sherlock tried. "What do you wish me to do?"

Tobias crossed his arms, shaking his head. "The four of you have two choices. Either leave alive or leave dead. I don't care so long as you all leave & never return. For in the day you return, trust me, you will not be granted the same mercy as now."

Sherlock nodded once, then looked at Trefor. "Mikró! Theós!" Sherlock called to his brothers, still sitting on their horses at the front. "Come now. We should go."

A moment of stillness went by before the reins were handed back & the four hunters turned their horses around. Tobias spoke once more. "Your father will hear about this." The three brothers looked rather sad at that news but knew better than to argue. Sherlock merely nodded once more before kicking his mare into a faster gait & heading back the way they had all come. The other three riders fell in line to follow. Tobias watched them leave, rooted to the spot he was standing on, shaking with anger. They had come here to hunt the large wolves, but how did they ever find out since the large wolves only appeared once a month? He turned to one of the women. "I'll deal with their father. You should inform the Lady about them." The woman nodded & disappeared into the trees.

The hunting party kept their horses at a brisk trot for a while. Mycroft moved up closer to Sherlock. "Did you see his eyes?" He asked. "Did anyone notice those eyes?"

"I saw," Sherrinford said. "He always had light brown eyes. Maybe it was a trick of the light to make them look like that?"

"Or maybe ..." Mycroft paused.

"What?" Sherrinford asked when Mycroft didn't continue.

Sherlock looked over his brothers. "You think he is the vrykólakas," he stated.

"He can't be!" Trefor gasped. "He was directly in the light!"

"What else could he be?" Mycroft finally spoke again. "The way his whole family just hide out like that. Do we really know anything about them? Yes, they're good workers. They like honey." Another pause. "A lot of honey."

"Trefor is right," Sherlock said. "He was out in the light. They all have been in the light many times."

"Besides," Trefor added. "Whoever heard of the vrykólakas liking honey? I thought they drink the red river inside us?"

"There is something about them," Mycroft insisted, riding past Sherlock to take the lead.

"I agree," said Sherlock. "But the vrykólakas? I do not think that is possible. Such fiends would not show us the mercy Tobias just did & they can only be out in the dark."

"Let's just get home as soon as possible," Sherrinford said. "I do not enjoy the thought of the talk our father will give us & I'd rather get it over with. Easy, now!" He pulled his horse back a moment before crashing into Mycroft's horse which had stopped again.

Ahead of Mycroft, standing on a grassy knoll in the lit pathway stood a woman in a dark grey & black dress, watching them with greenish brown eyes. Her long hair was dark blonde, streaked with silver. The sun shone down on her, making the silver hairs shine. She was that older woman Mycroft had noticed once in a village after another brutal attack when the undead fiends had killed an entire family. In one hand, she held a white bouquet of ramson flowers, which were related to the garlic family.

"I am sorry if I frightened you," Mycroft said, attempting to pull his horse backwards.

"Very little in this world frightens me," the woman said. "You are not one of them."

Mycroft remained silent, not sure what to say to that. An old man came upto her & handed over some more flowers. "Found these as well," he said. He glanced at the intruders.

Mycroft quickly scanned him. Old. Had to be over seventy five, which was unusual. Definitely older than the woman, perhaps her father? Thin white hair. Broad forehead. Strange colour coil of rope on his right hip; not gold, not pink, sort of mixed. Pale blush rose & dull gold perhaps? "You fancy those flowers?" He addressed the woman since the old man had seemed to lose interest in the riders & returned to the forest, most likely in search of more flowers for her.

"White is my favourite colour," she said. Her eyes swept over the hunters. "You do not belong here."

Waldheri! She must be part of the Waldheri, Mycroft realized. Probably the old man as well. "We are heading home," Mycroft said. She didn't answer but continued to eye every one of them until they had all passed & moved into a faster gait to get home quickly.

The old man came back. "What is to be done with them, my Lady? They know of the large wolves."

"Nothing yet," the Lady said. "So long as they don't return. I am amazed they are all alive & still human after encountering our wolves. They know only that the large wolves exist. There are many things they do not know & should never learn." She took another bunch of white flowers from his hand that he had found for her.

As the riders neared the villages in the low lands, the four of them went their separate ways to their own homes. Elizabet had questioned why Sherlock had returned empty handed, but he merely told her that they had ended up on private land by accident. Unfortunately for him, Elizabet ended up getting most of the entire story when Siger made rounds to the homes of his three sons the next day, yelling at each of them in turn about their irresponsible quest.

"Why do the gods curse me with such irresponsible, disrespectful, impulsive sons?!" Siger shot at each one in turn. "Especially you, Xanthá. I had expected better from you! Your brothers, I'm not surprised, but you?"

"Fath—"

"Be quiet!" Siger interrupted. "I've told the lot of you before to stay out of that valley! Now I hear that you are trying to steal from them?"

"It was an accident!"

"It would not have happened at all had you listened to me!" Siger held up a hand for silence. "I do not want to hear another word about it. The Waldheri will be helping us build up our hunting cabin next month & I expect everyone to be on their best behaviour!" At that, he got back onto his horse & rode away without a backwards glance.

Sherlock glanced at Elizabet who rolled her eyes & walked away in a huff, uncrossing her arms. The only things not mentioned were the strange lady with the old man & the shining gold eyes Tobias had shown. Sherlock decided to stay outside & watch the mare with her foal for a bit to give Elizabet time to cool off. It was late afternoon when she came out to join him. Ishtar making a soft cooing sound made Sherlock look around to see Elizabet come up to him, carrying the child on one arm.

"Are you ever going to stop pouting & come in to eat?" Elizabet teased.

Sherlock glared indignantly at her. "I am not pouting & I'm not hungry today, either." That was another strange thing about him. He didn't like eating much.

"Xanthá Malliá, it has been two days since you have had anything!"

"I am good for at least one more day," Sherlock replied. "You need it more to take care of Ishtar." He put the fingertips of his middle & index fingers of his left hand onto Ishtar's brow & began tracing circles. She seemed to like it & even raised a tiny hand to try to catch his. Sherlock glanced at the foal who was currently feeding, nose under the mare's belly. That was supposed to make him 'want' the woman. Want ... how? What did that even mean? He was supposedly with the fairest woman in all the land but he had no shallow appreciation for her beauty. That somehow made him ... wrong? Perhaps he should visit the witch doctor living high in a north-eastern village. He had never met the doctor before but tales of his healing powers were famous in the land. "Oh!" He looked down at the baby. Her hand was tightly grasping his two fingers so hard that it was sort of hurting. "She caught me."

"She is getting better at that," Elizabet laughed, watching Sherlock try to pry himself loose. Once he got free, Ishtar sent her first unimpressed glare at him. She had always been a quiet baby & rarely cried unless she desperately needed something or had been scared of something. She was just a year & a couple of months old but was still mostly silent. Some people had said it was unusual for a baby to be so quiet but apart from rarely making a sound, nothing seemed to be wrong with Ishtar. Elizabet turned & went back into the house.

Sherlock watched the mare trot around with her foal close by her side. He looked ahead towards the mountains where that doctor lived. It was too late to ride out at this late time, but he was seriously considering a visit now. Besides, it was well away from the Waldheri land. Perhaps he should see the doctor, if only to stay out of trouble. He went into the house & watched Elizabet put Ishtar down to sleep. "Have I disappointed you in any way?" Sherlock asked as he came closer to look over Ishtar.

"You mean besides today?" Elizabet grumbled.

"We didn't actually take anything," Sherlock defended. "It was an accident."

"Just don't go up there ever again," Elizabet ordered as moved to the bedside & began to change for the night.

Sherlock came up behind her & put his hands on her bare shoulders to prevent her from dressing into night clothes. He moved his hands up & down her smooth back. She turned to face him & he ended up grabbing her breasts. It was the first time he had initiated anything on his own. She lay back on the bed, waiting for him to join her. Sherlock hesitated before trying her milk, then moved downward. It took a moment or two to find the place Trefor had mentioned but both knew he was on the right spot once he had located it.

The next morning, Sherlock woke up to find Elizabet sitting up in bed beside him, still naked like he was. She looked down at him. "Well, that certainly was not disappointing," she said.

Sherlock sat up & leaned towards her a little, touching the tip of his nose to her cleavage & moving up to her lips before sitting back. "Some people think I may not have been good enough for you."

"Some people don't share their beds with you," Elizabet said as she got up. She started to get dressed. "Does this have something to do with your brothers? They are rather mean to you all the time."

"Oh you HAVE noticed!"

"Who hasn't?" Elizabet laughed. "You are the youngest out of the men, but you're the only one who seems to have done anything useful in life. They're just jealous." She turned away to get Ishtar started on her breakfast. "Now hurry up & get out of bed, Xanthá. Today, you WILL eat."

Jealous. So that was what was wrong. It was not him. It was his stupid brothers trying to walk all over him. Sherlock cancelled the witch doctor in his mind & got up to dress. "Yes, Woman."

For the next few days, things seemed to settle down. Sherlock had given up on making a long coat for winter out of the wolf & would have to find some other animal. He had always liked long coats. They could also be used as extra covers in the deep, cold nights. But he would have to go with a deer or bear skin instead. Neither Sherlock or any of the others who were involved in that failed wolf hunt, wanted to face Tobias again but the day came when they had to go back to the hunting cabin to build it up & of course, that meant the Waldheri would be there. Trefor was the only one who didn't have to see them again, since he was not part of Sherlock's family & had his own things to do.

Sherrinford, Mycroft & Sherlock all tried to make themselves scarce but Tobias actively sought them out. It was impossible to hide from him as he seemed to have some sort of sixth sense. When he caught them hiding on the back porch, Tobias bluntly asked them, "How did you ever know about the large wolves?"

"How?" Sherrinford repeated. "We saw prints on the trails."

Tobias shook his head. "One of you specifically said that you saw one." His eyes landed on Sherlock.

"My brothers & I had gone out for fish," Sherlock said. "Mikró had found another cave high above the one we usually use & moved us there for the night. While on watch, I saw her in the moonlight."

"You saw her," Tobias repeated. "Did she see you or try to attack you?"

"No," Sherlock answered. "I was down wind from her & far across the valley on the next hilltop. I did not tell anyone what I saw that night, but my father found her prints the next day."

Tobias nodded silently & headed back to the others of his clan who were with him, leaving behind three rather confused humans. "That cave near the cliffs between the three large trees," he spoke to two Waldheri men. "Destroy it. That's where they were when they saw her. We don't want any one else using that place!" The two men dropped what they were doing & disappeared into the forest.

Elizabet found the three brothers still hiding together. "You are both needed inside," she said, looking at Sherrinford & Mycroft. "There is a wall that will need to be brought down & moved & your Uncle needs some help with it."

Sherrinford sighed heavily. "Come on, Xanthá. Let's get this over with."

"I'm busy," Sherlock replied, pushing some pine needles that had fallen from the nearby tree off the porch. The old dead tree would have to be removed later. Sherrinford & Mycroft sent dark looks at their brother as Sherlock added with a rather smug smirk, "You know Elizabet & I don't have to do as much here since this is a gift for Ishtar's birth. There is no need to get jealous."

"Jealous?!" Mycroft scoffed.

"You're both jealous of him," Elizabet said.

"We're not jealous of him at all!" Sherrinford defended as Mycroft let out an angry breath before marching inside. Sherrinford added, "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"You're both always mean to him," Elizabet pointed out.

"So what?" Sherrinford returned, crossing his arms. Sherlock glanced between the two of them as he put up his hands, ready to grab one of them if they continued their fight.

"So what?" Elizabet echoed in disbelief. "Grow up & start being nicer to him!"

"There's literally nothing you can do to make that happen!" Sherrinford laughed. "He is mean to us as well, you know."

"You're the oldest," Elizabet retorted. "Set a better example!"

"Why? According to our parents, he's the better one!"

"So you ARE jealous!" Sherlock laughed while Elizabet nodded in agreement.

"I am not!" Sherrinford groaned. "I'm just repeating what our parents say." At that, he went inside.

Elizabet turned to Sherlock. "I'll deal with him."

Sherlock looked rather horrified. "I've never seen anyone stand up to him the way you just did."

"Well, someone needs to set him straight!" Elizabet huffed. "Ishtar is inside. Do you mind checking up on her? I'll be back." She hurried down the steps & ran over the grass without waiting for an answer.

Sherlock watched her disappear through a small copse of holly trees before going inside to find Ishtar in her carrying basket & two of the Waldheri women watching over her. He lay down on his stomach on the floor & pulled the basket in front of him, wrapping his arms around it, like a lioness holding her cubs, while he looked in at her playing with a round block of wood.

It was late afternoon by the time Elizabet reappeared. Ishtar was asleep & Sherlock was lying next to the basket, half awake. She sat down next to him & looked in at the baby for a moment. One of the Waldheri women returned with stone mugs full of something to drink & handed two over to Elizabet who put one down close to Sherlock. The woman looked Elizabet over for a moment, breathing in a deep long breath, as if smelling for something.

"You are with child, again," she said.

Sherlock sat bolt right up & Elizabet dropped her mug, spilling its contents to the smooth dirt floor. Elizabet stared at the other woman in shock. "How would you know that?" She finally asked.

The Waldheri woman stared at her, thinking over an answer. "Some things can not be explained," she began, picking up the spilled mug. "I just know you are with child once more. I will bring you another drink."

Elizabet gaped at her retreating back, then stared at Sherlock. He looked her over. "It is possible. You are four days late for your loss of your red river."

"How would you know THAT?" Elizabet couldn't be more stunned right now even if someone had knocked her unconscious. She barely noticed as she accepted the new drink from the other woman.

"I learned the timing of your red cycle after Ishtar was born," Sherlock said. "I believe it may have something to do with a woman getting pregnant, so I count the days."

"So do I, but I'm a woman so I kind of have to & we usually allow an extra day or two since the pattern can change a little!" Elizabet exclaimed. "You're a man. Why would you notice that?"

"I just do," Sherlock shrugged. "I am not sure when a woman is supposed to be in season but it may have something to do with that red cycle, so I make it a point to notice." Shaking her head, Elizabet buried her face in her hands. Sherlock asked, "Should we tell everyone, now?"

"No, no," Elizabet said. "Let's just wait a little bit, just to be sure. We can tell them next month."

"Very well then," Sherlock stood up & held out a hand for her. "It is getting late. We should retire."

Elizabet grasped his hand & pulled herself up. "Hmm," she hummed to herself under breath as she bent to pick up the carrying basket. They retreated to their own private room, but despite the fact that it had been dark for a while, Elizabet did not fall asleep. She lay awake next to Sherlock, listening for something. Finally, what she was waiting for happened & in an even better way than she had planned.

"XANTHÁ MALLIÁ!" Sherrinford screamed so loud, his voice could be heard through the entire cabin & even outside. He pulled himself out of his bed & re-set the fire in the large stone pot nearby, then rubbed his toes. Pine needles fell out after him as he pushed the linen cover back.

Sherlock & Elizabet both sat right up in bed. "What did you do?" Sherlock demanded, knowing full well she had done something.

"Taught him a lesson," Elizabet replied.

"Why does he think I did it?"

A long moment of silence. "We'll ... get to that, later," Elizabet finally said, lying back down again to hide her snickering. Sherlock groaned & got out of bed to join the commotion in the main house.

"What's going on over there?" Siger's voice sounded throughout the place. He came into Sherrinford's room a moment later, with Mycroft, Sherlock & a few others crowded behind at the doorway to see what was happening.

"HE!" Sherrinford shoved an accusing finger in Sherlock's face. "Put the tree spikes in my sleeping area!"

"I did not!" Sherlock defended but unfortunately, he also looked like he was about to burst out laughing, so naturally, no one believed him.

"I'll get you for this!" Sherrinford snarled, shaking the linen in the farthest corner of his room to sweep up later. He dropped it in a pile in another corner & felt over the bed. Two pine needles slipped under his fingernails, making him yelp in pain. "There's more!" He started violently pulling the pile of furs apart to shake them out. "Just wait for tomorrow, Xanthá!" He shook out another hide.

"It wasn't me!" Sherlock turned away, laughing, sealing his doom.

"We will discuss this in the morning!" Siger rolled his eyes, giving up on all three of his sons.

"I won't discuss anything!" Sherrinford stubbornly retorted, attempting to put the pile of hides back so that he had a softer place to sleep upon. "I'll deal with him, tomorrow!" He snarled as he lay the linen covering over everything & attempted to lie down. "OW!" There was more! "How many did you use, the entire tree?!"

Sufficient to say, only Ishtar & conveniently, Elizabet, got any sleep that night while everyone else spent the time trying to sort out Sherrinford's sleeping habitat with little success. Nearly everyone else was rather disgruntled come morning when the Waldheri returned to continue their help. Pine needles were strewn everywhere & it was nearly impossible to clear them away. Even some of the Waldheri got poked by them & quickly learned to avoid Sherrinford's room.

Despite the pine needles & that one strange conversation with Tobias the other day, things seemed to go back to normal between the hunting family & the Waldheri. Once more, they had requested honey & nothing else & about three weeks in, they had again taken off for a two day break.

During that time, Siger decided to take his three sons down to the river for fishing, planning to use the cave for over night. Sherrinford & Sherlock were still fighting & Mycroft had taken Sherrinford's side. Siger hoped that catching some fish would allow them to cool off & eventually, hopefully, mercifully, shut the hell up already.

Before nightfall, Mycroft took one of the horses upto the higher trail to the other cave he had once found only to discover it destroyed. Large boulders had filled it, looking like some sort of cave-in even though the sides of the place were still standing. He wondered what could have moved those large rocks since no human had the strength to lift one. It was a long ride back & just after dark by the time he made it back to the old familiar cave.

"I was about to ride out after you," Siger said as Mycroft put the horse on a long line attached to the tree for the night.

"I knew I'd be back by now," Mycroft defended. "That other cave is filled up with rocks."

"Why did you even bother to go all the way up there?" Siger asked suspiciously. "Haven't you caused enough trouble with the Waldheri?"

"It's not that," Mycroft paused to listen to distant wolf song for a moment. "It's that," he raised a finger, pointing in the general direction. "Tobias had asked us how we even knew those large wolves existed. We mentioned the cave & he just got ... strange. Now, it's filled up. I had a feeling he was going to do something to that other cave, but where does he find the strength to move such large boulders?"

"We'll probably never know," Siger said. "Now get inside before we're caught out here."

"Why do they like honey so much?" Mycroft asked as he ducked into the cave & began helping his father pull in a wall built of boards tied together while Sherrinford & Sherlock set fire to the torches set up all around.

"Again, we'll never know," Siger said.

"Don't you find them odd?" Mycroft finally said what was on his mind.

"I do," Siger admitted. "But they have given us no reason distrust them. Yet."

"Mikró thinks they might be the vrykólakas," Sherlock said.

Siger looked at him. "From what I hear about them, the vrykólakas are as uncontrollable as wild animals & only feast on the red rivers we all have. They are without reason & they come from the dead. Neither can they be seen in the light of day." He sighed & shook his head. "The Waldheri may be odd but to accuse them of such a vile thing without proof is not good. Besides, they are with us constantly yet I have never seen any of them try to rip us apart. They like their honey. They stand in the light & fortunately for all of you, they are very reasonable. No, I do not think they are the vrykólakas." He finished up some fish they had roasted in the fire earlier. "Now I suggest you all get some sleep. We will head back first thing in the morning."

This was easier said than done. Sherrinford & Sherlock were suddenly once more at each other's throats. Sherrinford did not want to sleep on the same side of the cave Sherlock was, claiming 'in case he put more tree spikes down' as his excuse. Sherlock once more denied ever doing that which caused more arguing. Siger eventually threatened to make them all stand watch at the same time instead of sleep which finally made everyone fall quiet. Siger put out all but one torch & made Sherlock sit behind their makeshift door as the first watch of the night. They usually did it two by two outside, but in the cave, it was easier to have just one by the door.

Siger had the final watch & when the morning appeared as pink on the horizon & slightly blue throughout the sky, he woke the others to start packing camp. The sun was just barely up when they were ready to leave & long shadows still hopelessly clung for a few more moments as the horses moved down the trail. Siger was ahead of the others & as his horse went over the crest of the hill, he pulled it to a stop as his eyes landed on something partially hidden in the bushes. He got down from his horse for a better look. As he got closer to the bushes, he suddenly sneezed.

"I swear one of you has a pet dog you're hiding from me!" Siger snapped at all three of his sons before pushing aside some of the shrubbery. He stared at the sight for a moment before returning to his horse & pulling a blanket from the saddle bag. "Xanthá, ride ahead quickly. Tell your mother we are bringing Tobias with us. He seems injured."

Sherlock rode up next to his father & cast a glance down at Tobias, curled up naked under the bushes. He seemed to have lost some blood since there was a red patch around him, yet no wounds were to be seen on this side. Siger laid the blanket over the man as Sherlock took off, then turned around & sneezed once more. "Right. So it isn't Xanthá."

"We don't have dogs," Mycroft defended.

"One of you does," Siger replied as he roused Tobias. "Alright, now. Come with me. I'll help you onto the horse." Tobias mumbled something as Siger helped him to stand. By the time they turned around to face the horse, Tobias was already asleep again. He seemed exhausted.

Sherrinford & Mycroft took over as Siger moved away from everyone to deal with his allergies. Tobias eventually made it onto the back of Siger's horse & Sherrinford sat behind him to hold him in place. He hurried forward after Sherlock while Siger & Mycroft followed at a slower pace.

Siger's allergies subsided as Tobias was taken far ahead. He looked at Mycroft. "So Theós has the dog."

"No, he doesn't," Mycroft said. "He has a cat. None of us have dogs."

"You all live in your own homes with your own lives," Siger said as they rode along. "You can have any animal you like, including dogs. But you should take care to not bring the hair around me. Keep it off whatever you are wearing when you are with me. It's all I ask." Mycroft silently rolled his eyes. No one had dogs, but Siger was convinced otherwise & would not be persuaded.

By the time they got back, Tobias was already tucked away in a room by himself, fast asleep. Violéta, Eurus & Elizabet had already found him something to wear before making a bed for him out of the way.

"All he does is sleep," Violéta told Siger. "I can't wake him up much. I don't know what's wrong with him."

"What about his wounds?" Siger asked.

"Wounds?" Violéta repeated in confusion. "He doesn't have any."

"Are you sure?" Siger pressed. "He had the red river spread out all around him."

"His body is fine," said Eurus. "It's actually quite a nice body." Everyone glared at her. Eurus shrugged. "What? I can't say it's nice?"

"I thought you hated men?" Siger twitched his brow in much the same way Mycroft would do.

"I do not!" Eurus declared. "Whatever gave you that idea?" She muttered as she stormed off.

"I'm not sure," Siger said to himself. "But the fact she drives them all away is a huge inclination."

"Siger, enough!" Violéta shushed him. "Tobias is fine. I just can't get him to wake up."

"I think we should just let him sleep," Elizabet put in. "I'll check up on him every so often but I don't think there is anything else we can do but wait."

"Keep an eye on him," Siger said. "See if he leaks again." He headed back outside & remounted his horse. He rode back to the place he had found Tobias & sure enough, the grass where Tobias had been laying had turned red & mostly dried. What could possibly cause a man to lose so much, yet not have a mark on him? He returned to the others. All spent most of the morning waiting. For what, no one knew.

It was just past midday when Tobias emerged into the main hall. He glanced around warily. "Why ... am I ... here?" He asked slowly when Siger caught sight of him.

"I found you in the bushes," Siger said.

"Did I ... do anything?"

"You sleep like the bears in winter," Siger said. "But that's about all you did."

Tobias buried his face in both hands & leaned back against the wall. "This is wrong. This is so wrong!"

"What hap—" Siger began but was cut off.

"No. I need my brothers & my sister!" Tobias cried out. After a short moment. "Or perhaps just my brothers. I don't get along with my sister. Never have."

Siger glanced at his three sons before turning away to sneeze. "Theós," he complained under breath before turning back to Tobias. "You seemed to be severely hurt when we found you, but I'm told you had no marks on you?"

Tobias just shook his head. He seemed slightly in shock at waking up here. There was a knock at the door. Siger went to open it to find a woman out there. They stared at each other a moment before she asked, "Is Tobias here?"

"Do you know him?"

"Yes," she said. Siger stepped aside to let her in. He glanced around but couldn't find an extra horse & wondered how she got up here without a riding animal. Everyone watched as she went straight to Tobias & held him in her arms. He immediately calmed down. "What happened?"

"We found him under the bushes," Sherlock answered. "He seemed to be injured but apparently is fine, except for an unusual sleeping spell over him."

"You were not in your usual spot," the woman said softly to Tobias.

"I can't be, anymore," Tobias said.

"I will take you home," she said before turning to the others. "Thank you for watching over him, but I must ask you all to not tell anyone what you have seen."

"Why? What is wrong with him?" Mycroft asked. "He was nearly dead when we found him, but there was no mark on his body. Then he could not wake up until now."

"He passes out & coughs up the red river inside him," she answered. "Have no fear. It can not spread to any of you. You're not his family."

"All the Waldheri are like this?" Mycroft gasped. "So they ARE the vrykólakas!"

"Adriános Mikró Choráfi!" Siger shot Mycroft a warning look. No proof? No accusation! "Be silent!"

"No, they are not," the woman said. "Have no fear of them. But please, I beg of you all, keep their faint condition silent. They recover quickly & return as themselves." She glanced at Mycroft. "We have met before."

"Yes, we have," Mycroft said. "You seem to be a woman of many crafts."

"I am," she shamelessly admitted. "Come, Tobias. We should return home."

Tobias looked at Siger & Violéta. "I thank you for your care, but I understand if we are not allowed to return, tomorrow."

"They are nearly done with their help," the woman said. "It would be wise to let them finish."

"I do wish to earn my honey," Tobias tried, earning several quick smiles.

Siger nodded his consent. He stepped aside to let the pair leave. Everyone ended up on the front porch to watch the strange woman with Tobias until they disappeared into the forest. Mycroft looked at his father. "They get stranger by the day."

"I hope you're satisfied," Siger said.

"Satisfied?"

"With your accusation," Siger reminded him. "I told you they are not the vrykólakas."

Mycroft sighed heavily & twitched his brow in annoyance in much the same way his father would often do. Despite what any one said, he silently insisted to himself that even if the Waldheri were not the vrykólakas, they were definitely hiding something. But what, was anyone's guess.

* This was apparently popular in both Egypt & Mesopotamia thousands of years ago.

** Don't ask! I spent almost a week trying to figure out a Greek prehistoric version of Victor Trevor. Turns out Victor as a name does not exist before Christ & Trevor is Welsh & spelled as Trefor, not Greek. So I went with the meaning of the name, didn't really like how it worked in Greek, then FINALLY remembered that I had Sherlock tell John that Greek was not the only language of the age, just the main one & so I went all Welsh & amazingly liked it. As for the Welsh language existing back then or not, or more likely having a different name for the natives of the land then, I'm not sure but I'm stopping here unless someone has a better idea & if so, leave it in a review/PM & I will edit. But for now, I need my sleep! But anyway, this is Victor Trevor.