"What about, the Were-cats?" he forced himself to say the word.

"There is very little written or known about them," she said, pursing her lips. "They are the rarest of all the Were-kin, and I have never heard of a Sorcerer or scholar finding one to learn about them. The other Were-kin hold a rather low opinion of them, for some reason," she said, giving him a curious look. "Those that know of them at all, that is."

"It seems like the hand of Karas was at work when you were chosen for this assignment," Faalken noted to Dolanna. "Blind luck put the boy in the hands of someone that could help him."

"Yes, it does seem fortunate that I was sent," she mused. "To think that I nearly rejected the request. I am glad that I did not."

"I am too," Tarrin said sincerely and fervently.

Dolanna smiled and put a hand on the back of his. "With luck and hope, tonight will not be as bad," she told him. "You must still spend it alone, but as we travel, I will teach you ways to center your thinking so that you can put the instincts aside in your mind enough to rest. They are the same techniques we teach our novices in order to wield the power of Sorcery," she told him. "As you become accustomed to the cat inside your mind and as you become skilled with the centering and concentration skills I will teach you, let us hope that it solves your problem. And it will give you a head start in your studies at the Tower."

"Dolanna, I've been meaning to ask," Faalken said, "what are we going to do about travelling? Tarrin kind of stands out now."

"I have already taken that into account," she said. "I cannot create an illusion that will last all day, so I instructed Arren to have a robe made for Tarrin that will cover him. It will have a hood on it and oversized sleeves, so that he may hide his most striking features. I also had him alter Tarrin's saddle so that his feet will fit in the stirrups."

"I'll get the young pups out of bed," Faalken said. "We have a long way to go today."

Tarrin looked at his hand, more like a hand-paw than a hand, wondering at Dolanna's words. He could only really be hurt by fire, acid, magic, silver, or falling from a height. But that didn't make much sense. "Why can I be hurt from falling?" he asked.

"There is a simple concept behind it, Tarrin, one that I should explain. Now that I think of it, it is something of which you should definitely be aware. To put it more specifically, you can only be harmed by magic, silver, or weapons of nature."

"Weapons of nature?"

"Is fire not a part of nature?" she asked.

"Yes, but-"

"Does it not injure?"

"Yes."

"Acid may be made by man, but it is still a natural compound, existing in nature. Does it not also burn when touched?"

He started to understand. "So falling off a cliff results in a very natural impact with the ground," he concluded.

"Exactly. You should also be wary of true weapons of nature. A falling tree will hurt you just as quickly as it would me, and if someone hit you with a rock picked up off the ground, then it would result in a real injury. But of these lesser forms, none can kill you. You regenerate too quickly for that to happen. The only weapons of nature that can kill you are fire, acid, falling…or maybe getting impaled on a tree branch., or getting caught in an avalanche or rockslide."

"I'll remember that," he told her. "You said that I have magic inside me," he said, his mind starting to explore the possibilities.

"Yes."

"Doesn't that make me a magical weapon?" he asked, holding up his hand-paw and extending his claws. "I do have these, you know, and they are weapons."

She smiled broadly at him. "You are most clever, Tarrin. Yes, it does. Being a magical creature, you have the power to injure those creatures like yourself that can only be harmed by magic. But, there is a drawback to that," she warned. "You are a magical creature, and that lends itself to certain…vulnerabilities concerning magic. The largest is that a ward set up to repel magic will not allow you to cross it," she told him. "You cannot very well just leave your magic on the other side."

"That makes sense," he reasoned.

"Well, we must be getting ready to leave," she told him. "We can continue our discussion on the road. Let me lower the ward protecting the room. You should go get your things together, and make sure that nothing was left behind."

"Alright," Tarrin said.

Walten was getting dressed when Tarrin came back into the room. He was sandy-eyed and bleary; Walten was not a morning person. Tarrin checked his packs, and realized that all of his trousers had been altered already, and also that his boots were not here. Just as well, he reasoned. He couldn't wear them now anyway. He took that opportunity to put on clean clothes and wash up a bit, fighting a bit with the trousers to get his fingers on that little button in the back that sealed his tail into that little hole made for it. This was the second time he'd done it, and it took less than half the time the second time around. He pulled a clean shirt over his head and laced it up, then packed all his things away as he made sure that he had it all. His bow and staff were in the corner. He picked up the bow, then looked at his hands. There was no way he could shoot it like this. The tips of his claws were right there, and they could hit and cut the bowstring. "Walten, I…I can't use this anymore," he said, holding up the bow. "Would you like to have it?"

"I, guess," he said slowly. "I'll just keep it for you, in case you want it back, alright?"

"Alright," Tarrin said.

Tiella was sitting at the table when they left the room, and the door outside was open. Tarrin could see one guard standing at the door, but he could smell three others. Faalken's scent was still strong in the room, but it was obvious that he'd left. Dolanna was in the other room; he could hear her moving around. Not long after Walten came out of the room, three servents brought in large platters with breakfast, and that lured Dolanna and Tiella out of the bedroom. Tarrin had learned from yesterday how careful he had to be, else he would bite his tongue while he ate. And with teeth like his, that was not a pleasant experience. He managed to work through breakfast, then was handed a plain brown robe by Dolanna when he pushed his plate away. Although if fit, it was not comfortable. The hood pressed down on his ears in an irritating manner, and he had to keep his tail tucked in to keep it from bulging out the back of the robe.

"It won't look half as bad when you're on the horse," Faalken assured him.

"I hope not. I look deformed like this."

"Tuck your hands in," Dolanna told him, and he pushed his hands into the sleeves. They totally concealed them. "The only problem is your feet, but they will be partially in the stirrups. With the black fur on them, they will appear as boots. It will do." She sat back down at the desk, writing something on a piece of parchment. "I doubt that Duke Arren is awake, so I will write him a letter of gratitude, and when I am done, we will depart. I wish to reach Skeleton Rock by sunset, so we have a day of hard travel ahead of us."

Outside for the first time since the change, Tarrin was assaulted on all sides by sounds and smells that almost overwhelmed him. What was merely unpleasant before was a powerful stench now, the smell of man, his waste, and his sweat assaulting Tarrin's nose like a hammer. He realized that it was the background from inside the castle magnified a thousand fold. He choked briefly after stepping out the door of the keep, then went into a fit of coughing and sneezing.

"What's the matter?" Walten asked in sincere concern.

"Do all cities smell like this?" he demanded indignantly. "I think I'm going to vomit!"

"It should lessen after a while," Dolanna told him.