"I hope so," he said, putting the back of his hand over his nose and letting the smell of his fur cover the stink of the city.

Hands brought the horses around, and Tarrin realized that they may have a problem. Horses could smell too, and he wasn't sure if they'd take him as a predator or not. His scent was not the same as a human.

He approached his horse slowly and gently, letting it get his scent a little at a time. The horse began to whinny slightly and started to fidget. Reaching out one hand, Tarrin placed it on the bridge of the horse's nose, stroking it reassuringly. The horse looked at him curiously, realizing that he was the one that had the strange smell, but Tarrin's careful gentle touch had eased the horse's primary fear. "Yes, it's me," he told the horse with a smile as it suddenly nuzzled him.

"I see that that will not be a problem," Dolanna said.

"Not with this horse," he corrected. "They don't know my smell, so how they see me depends on how I act when I come up to them." Tarrin packed his saddle with his gear, sliding his staff into the saddleskirt, then carefully mounted the horse. The horse was still a bit nervous, and the other horses were beginning to get skittish, but a gentle pat on the neck and a few soothing words calmed the horse down again.

"Put up your hood, Tarrin," Dolanna ordered as she climbed into the saddle. Walten was ordered to take the pack horses, and Tiella pulled herself up with Faalken's assistance.

"Have a safe journey, milady," one of the hands said, letting go of her horse's bridle.

"May the Goddess make it so," she said quietly.

Torrian didn't seem any different when they had arrived, when Tarrin was human, but it smelled differently. The powerful smell of the city was indeed starting to dull, and Tarrin could begin to make out other scents, those of horses and wood and metal, out on the streets. The streets were sparsely populated, mainly merchants and shopkeepers and their servants beginning the ritual of opening their businesses for the day's custom. He could also catch faint odors drifting out of open doors, those of leather, spices, and the smell of baking bread of roasting meat. He looked around actively, trying to put a name or sight to a particular smell, for there were many that he couldn't readily identify. The ones that he knew were simply the smells he'd known when he was human, only sharper, but there were a myriad of other smells out there that he'd never smelled before.

They crossed the White River at the Old Bridge, and then left Torrian through the eastern gate, on what was known as Skeleton Road, because of the natural formation called Skeleton Rock that was visible from the road. Once they were outside the walls, the powerful smell of the city ebbed with every step, until there was nothing left but the smells of the forest.

It was just as powerful, but for different reasons. The Cat seemed to roar up in his mind at the smells and sounds and sights of the wilderness, reacting to the scents of the forest. His ears began to search and seek out every little sound, his nose testing the air for every possible scent. The smells of man and horses were still strong along the road, but the smell of trees and earth and animals washed away that unnatural intrusion. Tarrin pulled down his hood and breathed deeply as the smells of the forest, letting them clear his nose of the city-smell and clear his mind of his worries.

There was one other smell, faint, but he could just barely make it out. A familiar smell, though he'd never smelled it before. Familiar because it was close to his own. "The other one was here," he told Dolanna. "The one that bit me. I can still smell her."

"How long ago?"

"Probably yesterday," he told her. "I'm not sure, though. I'm still getting used to this." He pointed to the woods. "Her smell goes that way. I think she went for the trees almost right after she cleared the hill that hid her from the city wall."

"Just let her go, Tarrin," Dolanna warned. "You will not find her."

"I don't want to," he grunted. "I know that this wasn't her fault, but she's still the one that did it to me."

"I understand," she said. "Let us pick up the pace. Skeleton Rock is quite a distance from here."

They rode hard throughout the entire morning, stopping only to rest the horses. The morning was warm and sunny, and the weather pleasant enough to make the ride almost enjoyable, as Tarrin experienced such a sensation of freedom and pleasure that it made him wonder at himself. He knew it was coming from the Cat, but that didn't change how he felt. The Cat considered the trackless winderness to be home, but he could also sense that it didn't mind the cities, either. It was a creature of adaptability, capable of making it almost anywhere its paws were touching the ground.

They did not stop for lunch, they ate in the saddle during a walking period to rest the horses, a meal consisting of dried fruit, cheese, and bread, then they were off again at a brisk canter. The shape of the land was slowly changing, becoming less hilly but just as forested, and there were more and more small streams and brooks to traverse as they continued in the south-of-east direction in which they were moving. There were no villages or settlements in the region, which Tarrin considered to be curious. "Why aren't there any villages?" he called to Dolanna as they rode.

"Because this region is considered to be bad luck," she replied. "Skeleton Rock breeds such tales. You will understand when you see it."

Tarrin considered that, then decided to wait until he saw this Skeleton Rock before he made any judgements.

About an hour after eating, they slowed to a walk to rest the horses. The wind shifted into Tarrin's face, and that brought to him the smell of man. Several of them, just up ahead. Faalken was at the rear, riding up from a scout of their trail and possibly moving on up ahead to scout the front. "Dolanna, there are men and horses in front of us," he warned her.

"How many?"

He sniffed at the air. "I can make out at least six different men," he told her, "but it seems like there are more than that." Up ahead, the road turned sharply to the left to avoid a deep streambed.

Dolanna called for them to stop by raising her hand and reining in. "This road is known for bandits, because of the lack of population along it," she told Tarrin. "Let us make sure it is a trade caravan before rounding the corner. Put up your hood, young one. Walten, Tiella, come closer."

He lifted the hood in place as Faalken reached them. "What is it?" he asked.

"Tarrin smells men up ahead," Dolanna told him. "We will wait to see if they show themselves."

"That's not all of it," he said. "There are several men riding up from behind, hard," he told her. "I could just make out their dust. They'll be up to here in just a little while."

Tarrin scented a change in the attitude of the scents, getting stronger. They were moving, and it wasn't up the road. "Dolanna, the men are moving, but they're not coming up the road."

"Which direction?" Faalken asked.

"Towards us," he replied.

"That tears it," Faalken said grimly, clapping down the visor of his helmet. "Caravans don't sneak through the woods."

Walten drew out Tarrin's bow and nocked an arrow. Surprisingly, Tiella drew out a sling from her belt pouch and slipped a stone into the cup. "No, take the pack horses," Walten told her. "I need both my hands. You can still get off one shot holding the horse's reins."

"Tiella, take the pack horses off the road," Faalken told her.

Tarrin could hear them now, rustling the brush ahead of them, near the curve. He could make out a startled oath of disappointment, then there was the sound of swords sliding out of scabbards. Tarrin laid back his ears and snarled wordlessly as the Cat in him prepared to beat back the attackers. "They're coming," Tarrin said, pulling his staff out from the saddleskirt. Now that they were closer, more and more scents were becoming clear to him. "Dolanna, I can smell at least fifteen now, maybe more."