"Now now, let's not get into an argument," Sarraya said quickly. "At least with another pair of hands, we can keep the fire going without losing too much sleep. From the sound of it, we'll need it," she said after another of those hollow moans came over the fallen spire. "That gives me the shivers."

"Where did you meet them?" Denai asked Var.

"I challenged Tarrin because we thought he was an invader," Var told her. "It didn't last long," he said with a laugh. "I haven't been beaten down like that since I was a child. I decided to follow him after I was defeated and study him, maybe challenge him again. After he killed a kajat single-handedly, I decided challenging him again was not wise."

"He did that?" Denai said in surprise, looking at Sarraya.

"He cheated a little with magic, but he did," Sarraya told her with a wide smile.

Tarrin tuned them out as his eyes drifted back to the fire. The scents of Var and Denai were unsettling him a little, invoking instinctive feelings in him to chase off the interlopers, instincts he strove to control. He remembered Var very well from before, and his reaction to the male Selani was greatly different than it had been to Denai. Denai was like a child to him, but Var was definitely not a child. He was an adult, a dangerous adult well trained in the Selani fighting styles. It was because of that, he realized, that he wasn't quite as willing to accept Var's company as he had been Denai. Denai was also an adult, and probably well trained in the Dance, but he saw her as a child. No matter how old she really was, her manner and look and scent decried her youth to him, and that protected her from the brunt of his hostility. Var was another matter. He was a mature Selani, an adult well into his prime, and that caused Tarrin's hackles to raise up and stay up. His generosity to Var seemed misplaced now that he was stuck with the Selani male until morning. For that matter, he was surprised he went that far. Two rides ago, he would have thrown Var back out into the darkness without a thought as to whether he lived or died.

That struck him, in a strange way. That was true. Two rides ago, he would have thrown Var out. But now he would not. Had he truly begun to change? Had his feral nature softened in that time, as it had for Mist? He didn't feel any different. Truth be told, he felt even more edgy now than he did two rides ago, because of the damned face that haunted his dreams and his moments of reverie, and also his frustration at being unable to find his magic again. But all things aside, he had to admit that he was doing something that he wouldn't have done two rides ago. He wasn't about to accept Var into his company, but he felt he could tolerate him for one night. That was something. He hated being the way that he was, and before he always felt powerless to do anything to change it. Even when he tried to change, it came to naught. But, in his own defense, Jula's intrusion into his life and the chaos surrounding the Book of Ages had unravelled whatever progress he had made, and then the long time in cat form, forcing it to try to deal with emotions beyond its ability, undid the rest of it.

Maybe he could change. He knew that he could never be as trusting as he'd been before turning feral-there was no going back-but all he really wanted was to be able to look a stranger in the eyes and not feel so afraid, then feel angry at fearing a weaker being. Mist had changed. She had accepted Tarrin, accepted him completely and without reservation, something he never thought would happen. He still felt intensely relieved, and a little proud of that fact, that he had managed to ease the horrific pain the Were-cat had endured for so many years. He knew that he could never accept strangers as anything but strangers, but there were many kinds of strangers, just as there were many kinds of friends. He had already began to rationalize his feelings for people not his friends, as he had for Denai, to classify them in levels of threat based on his impressions of them and their ability to threaten him. He just had to take that a little further, reach a point where the fearful animal in him would listen to his rational mind when it told the animal that a stranger was no threat.

Denai was a part of that. Part of the reason he had accepted her was a need to prove to himself that he could function in proximity to a stranger. But he'd chosen a stranger that he felt was no threat to him, barely more than a girl that he felt needed to be watched over and protected. That wasn't really a challenge to his ferality. He didn't particularly trust Denai, but he knew that he felt she was no danger to him. He felt wary when she got too close to him, but he felt no true trepidation either. He was hovering between pushing her away and treating her like a daughter, and he knew it.

Small steps, his mother would tell him if she were with him. One step at a time, and don't overreach.

Strange. Since he'd accepted Denai, the eyeless face that haunted him had eased considerably. It was still there, but it was much as if its fangs had been drawn. It felt little more than a kind of reminder now, an awareness of what would happen to him if he started back down the path of ruthlessness. How could Denai's presence defuse that acidic image so? It wasn't like she meant anything to him.

It was something that seemed totally illogical. So much so that it made his head a little woozy just trying to think about it, so he decided to think about something else.

He watched the two Selani chat with Sarraya, not really listening to them. They seemed… familiar. Familiar with one another familiar with Sarraya, despite the fact that she was so obviously different than them. Selani were a rather stoic lot, hard to surprise and even harder to unbalance. It was a racial trait, something that they shared with Allia. But there was no resolute stoicism in how they talked, or their body language. Allia seemed stiff sometimes, but that was because she was thrust into an alien culture with little experience with it. The fact that she wasn't too fond of humans exascerbated it. But when they were alone, when she was among her friends, she was much as those two were now. Looking at them, he couldn't imagine either of them being a threat to him. Yet he knew that if he were to get close to them, they would suddenly seem much more threatening than they did now. Even if they weren't, his feral instinct would convince him that they were. Part of him wanted to be over there with them, talking about nothing in particular, getting to know them better. But that part of him was enslaved to his towering fear of strangers, a fear so powerful that it would cause him to lash out in violence against anyone he felt was too dangerous.

Strange that he would feel so alone. It was an odd realization. Watching them, listening to them, it made him feel… lonely. Sarraya understood him, talked to him, but he knew that his quiet manner put her off. He just didn't engage in idle chat, and that was what the Faerie needed right now. She was better off with those two, getting to know them and making them feel more comfortable in his presence. In any case, she couldn't ease the ache inside him. She was a dear friend, and he was glad she was there, but she wasn't his sisters, she wasn't his parents. Only they could fill the void left in him by their separation.

As always, when he felt lonely or afraid or confused, all he had to do was look up. He rose to his feet and turned his back on the three of them, raising his face to the White Moon. That milky face stared down at him, sang to him in ways anyone not Were would never understand, and as always, the cheeky grin of Miranda seemed to shine down on him from that skybound moon. Looking up at the moon appeased the animal in him, but it also reminded him of friends and family long away, friends and family who were waiting for him to return to them. Miranda's cheeky grin was affixed into Domammon now, but it also invoked images, memories of dear sisters and beloved parents, memories of trusted friends and stalwart companions, memories of home. He really didn't have a home anymore, but he knew that wherever he was was home, so long as those that made him feel safe were around him. The human in him yearned for friends and family to be with him, but until that day came, the echo of it granted to him by Domammon would have to suffice.