Chapter 2

He woke with a start from a shallow, restless sleep.

After frantically looking around for the traveling party, he realized that it was now dark. How long had he been sleeping? On the horizon, he could see the faint light of the rising sun, telling him that it wouldn’t be long before dawn. All this chaos had thrown him into a state of confusion and disorientation, but he still couldn’t sit around.

The wolf pup was fast asleep by his side. He was relieved that it was resting, but also worried that it might be because it was becoming weaker. Small marks in the dirt told him, that it had tried to put distance between them before surrendering itself to sleep.

He had to get moving. If he was to survive in such a strange and likely dangerous land, he couldn’t stay in one place for long, when he didn’t know what kind of dangers were lurking in the shadows. He knew that many animals were gregarious, so why shouldn’t his own kind be? He felt loneliness and a longing for intimacy, so surely, they would seek out the company of others, as well.

If he was right, following the path of the traveling party might bring him to a pack of people. He had longed for a pack his entire life, and this could be the first and only chance he’d ever get.

But he’d have to go as soon as possible, since the longer he waited, the harder it would be to track the party. There was the wide road to follow, of course, but from experience he knew that it could and would quickly split into any number of smaller trails, and fresher tracks would be easier to read.

The next problem was the pup. He would never allow himself to leave it here, alone. That, he was surer of than anything right now. Finding a way to carry the pup wouldn’t be easy, but carrying it in his arms would hinder him too much.

Getting up, he stretched his stiff limbs, and cracked his neck as he liked to do.

It didn’t take the boy long to find a tree with thin vines hanging from it. They were all over the place. The place reminded him of a swamp he’d once found in the forest.

The ground was as muddy and wet as the swamp had been, as well. As he picked the strongest vines he could find without going too far, he hoped they would hold for what he had planned. He praised himself for being sensible enough to not wander recklessly into unknown territory.

Returning to the bush he found the pup had tried to crawl away, but hadn’t made it very far. Still, it looked like it wasn’t as bad as it had been the day before. A new hope surged through his body, renewing his strength. They’d make it. They had to.

He lifted the wolf, careful to cause it as little pain as possible. The less pain he caused it, the faster it would warm up to him, he figured.

Carrying it back to the shelter of the thorny bush, he sat down and started working. This was something he’d never attempted before, he’d always been alone, and he’d never really had anything to take with him, when he moved. Weapons, like rocks were things he always found when he needed them, not something he kept.

He quickly found out, that he couldn’t just make whatever he thought of. It required a dexterity that he didn’t possess, so he settled for a simple design, made of numerous small nooses, whose knots he tied along the length of a straight branch. On each end of the branch he tied a knot to seal the nooses and prevent them from sliding off. Then he laid a big piece of bark inside to be held up by the nooses, which effectively created a platform for the pup to lie on.

He now had a primitive bag, which he could carry over one shoulder. It would be a rough day for both of them, but he had to sacrifice comfortability for haste, if he were to save the pup.

While he had been working, night had turned to morning, and the sun shone brightly. The weather was perfect for a quest to find civilization. To his relief, the pup looked tolerating, albeit unhappy with being carried in such a manner. It whined slightly when they set off, but otherwise lay still in the sling.

Trekking was nothing new to him, but intense winds blew in this foreign land, and even with his strong physique, the continuous walking while carrying the pup had made him exhausted to the point of collapsing.

At first, walking through the green hills was exciting, strange, and more than anything, terrifying. But nonetheless, he’d enjoyed it more than he cared to admit.

Not only that, but he felt that he’d become stronger and wiser just from learning that there was so much more to the world than what he’d known. But he still felt a familiar attachment to the forest, from where he’d come, and he was quite sure that he would return there after exploring a bit more.

Walking with his thoughts had made him speculate whether the pack would even let him in, because after all, he couldn’t know how they would react to an outsider.

Had it been him, he would likely have killed anyone foolish enough to approach him. But he also realized that if he’d have killed anyone, it would be because he was afraid. Afraid that someone with the power to kill him was alive. And now he walked here, determined to face an unknown number of his own race.

If they ended up rejecting him, he would just return to the forest immediately, he thought. What else could he do? It would be both dangerous and uncomfortable to start over alone in a place where death and agony could lie in wait at every corner, even if he did have a new companion now.

If the wolf made it he would have made his first friend, and the prospect of that made a warm, fuzzy feeling rise in his stomach. It felt good, and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. No matter what happened, he’d have a friend in his life, and that made all the sad and unhappy emotions seem less important. Now he had something to live for, something to care for. A new responsibility that made everything seem worth the hardships and loneliness he’d had to endure.

The pup’s ears whirled upwards when the young man's stomach growled, and hunger suddenly overcame him. It was to be expected, really. It must have been at least three days since he last ate anything. Caring for the pup had kept him occupied, and he hadn’t even settled into his new mentality of living in a new place.

The time had come to find some food if he was to survive much longer, and not only because he’d starve, but because weak prey is easy prey, and he wasn’t exactly keen on being the prey.

It dawned on him, that he had no idea how to hunt-, what to hunt-, or where to hunt, in what felt like a naked environment. Even if he had known what to look for, there were no sufficient ways to conceal himself when sneaking up on prey.

Until now, he’d expertly been using the great trees to keep himself out of the animal’s point of view, utilizing blind spots and distractions to sneak up on his quarry.

This however, was nothing like that. Most of the trees were thin, small, and hardly enough to hide his body, and the worst part was the large distance between said trees.

He had to walk far between each one, which to him might as well not have been there at all. Although, he had noticed that only a few animals roamed the steppe-like lands, so he could assume that the rest preferred to stay in the wooded areas.

He thought that, despite the lack of his usual circumstances, he’d still have the best chances of catching something if his methods were familiar to him, even if he had to be creative and tweak his old hunting techniques a bit. If he and the wolf were to survive here, he’d have to adapt, and he’d have to do it quickly.

After picking the stand of trees that looked to be the densest, he trotted ahead as fast as his tired body could carry him. Drained as he was, his mind was now clear, instincts beginning to take over as he prepared himself for a familiar task.

Even now he would have been able, with some difficulty, to fell an animal if he was back in the forest. But at this point he wasn't so sure, since many unforeseen circumstances existed here, hindering him despite his determination. Right now, what he needed was sufficient rest, nutritious food, and peace of mind, all of which added to his exhaustion. But all he could really do was try, so he did.

He approached the stand of trees slowly, taking each step carefully by treading with the side of his heel and rolling towards the balls of his feet in one fluid motion, distributing his weight gradually to silence his step as much as possible. This was but one of numerous techniques he'd developed during his life, all for one purpose, and one purpose only: to survive. So far it had proven useful, and many of the things he'd learned could still be used in this situation.

Leaning his back on the first tree he reached, he listened attentively before even attempting to look. Sounds could often unveil hidden prey more effectively than visual signs, and chances were that a fair number of the residents in the small wooded area had sensed him and run for cover.

He could hear rustling all over the place, and he quickly realized that hunting here would be even more difficult than he'd anticipated. The wind here had plenty space to build up its power compared to the forest, where the dense tree-growth prevented any real intensity, so he wasn't used to all the plants making quite this much noise.

He would have to rely on his eyes for now.

He put down the make-shift bag, making sure the pup lay covered and out of sight of any potential predators. He didn't like leaving it, but it had to be done or they both would surely starve.

Collecting himself he stood up slowly, with his back against the tree once more, peeking to one side hoping to spot a suitable prey that could become their dinner.

Patience is a virtue, but he wasn't in the mood for waiting games.

He took a few steps back to give himself some room for a running start, and then he flew forward. Driving his foot into the tree trunk, he kicked himself upwards, reaching for the lowest branch, a good three and a half meters above the ground.

He gripped the smooth wood tightly with one hand, steadying himself with the other on the trunk, and heaved himself up to a resting position on the branch.

From here it was easy to climb a few more branches until he stood with his weight divided between two thinner branches, about seven meters above ground.

Up here the prey would think he'd left and sneak out of hiding to check the area. That's when he'd strike. Quick and deadly – as he'd always been.

And exactly as he had predicted, a fat, brown hare soon dared to venture out from its den under the roots of a great, old linden tree, quietly and carefully hopping further away from the tree. Most of the trees in the forest had been too tall to attempt this form of aerial hunting, and he'd begun to think that this might be even more effective than how he usually did it.

This could save him a lot of time, since he didn't even have to make preparations. Taking down the hare would be a piece of cake, if he did it right. The drop to the ground was pretty big, but he wasn't too worried. Finally, this was something he was used to and which, he thought, he was skilled at.

What was making his heart race and his legs shiver, then? What could it really be if not the hunt? Maybe he was just subconsciously afraid of this hunt, this place, which he knew nothing about. It had to be nervousness.

Although he hadn't done any real reconnaissance of the area, and only scanned for movement from his perch in the tree, he felt quite confident in his ability to assess a situation like that. Additionally, he'd kept a constant eye on his surroundings, like he always did. He would not have survived this long if he didn't. So why could he not shake this feeling of unease welling up in his stomach? Again, trusting his instinct and gut-feeling seldom proved unwise, so he let the little hare hop around in blissful ignorance for a while longer.

He was split between finishing the hunt, and getting the hell out of there as fast as his legs could carry him. He would be afraid for his life, if he had to fight a predator of unknown strength here, where it would have a clear advantage. Since he could neither see nor hear whatever it was, he also did not know if the pup had been noticed below him, and strangely, he was more afraid for it, than himself.

Yet, this remained nothing but a bad feeling. Nothing had been proven. More importantly, he could not possibly know when he'd come upon a good kill again, so it was now or never, if he wanted to avoid an agonizing death from starvation for him and the wolf.

And he was not going to doom them based on a hunch. So, he sat still, and let the hare slowly hop closer, until it moved into an ideal position, and he saw his chance to strike.

Much like usual, he let himself be controlled by his instincts. Utterly and completely.

The moment he leapt, was the moment he let go of himself. He'd always felt like there were something other than just himself, something fierce and bestial, buried deep within him. That was what he became now. He remained himself, yet he did not. It had always been hard to explain, impossible really, and he had given up on understanding it long ago.

He could not afford to worry about such things, when very real dangers were always right in front of him.

When he changed, it felt like his nails became thicker and sharper, like claws. His teeth became stronger and his bite more precise, like fangs.

But he was not sure if there truly was a physical change, if he really changed shape, or if it was simply a product of the thrill of the hunt and the sensation of his heightened spatial awareness.

During such transformations, he never lost his sense of reason or rationality. He became deeply focused on the task at hand, his mind clearing as if all other thoughts were blown away by a fierce gale, every fiber of his body set to finish what had been started.

The boy became a whirling storm. A rushing river. A raging inferno – unstoppable in his deadly endeavor. The feeling of sailing through the air was exhilarating like nothing else. It was like his belly had climbed into his ribcage, and he could not help but laugh with joy as he fell upon the hare.

He made short work of it by grabbing its torso and crushing its skull in a fist. He quickly stood up with his kill, and looked around, feeling the eyes of another on him, now more than ever.

He was about to dismiss the feeling as just another case of nerves when he noticed a rustling bush not far from him.

Instinctively he froze in place, calculating his options and imagining scenarios in his head, and knew that attacking first would be his best chance of survival if it turned out to be dangerous.

He dropped the limp hare at his feet, bent forward, and exploded into a mad dash, covering the distance in the blink of an eye.

As he rushed headfirst into the thicket, he roared as loudly as he could, in an attempt to intimidate and establish control right away.

He flung his hands out in front of him as he ran, and felt smooth fabric between his fingers. He tightened his grip and came through the leaves, staring into the face of a human, a person who looked like him.

The man looked older, his hair a greying, disheveled mass. He was short, about half a head shorter than the boy, despite a clear age difference. He looked well fed with a round belly protruding above a thick belt with a large shiny belt-buckle that looked much too tight on him. He wore a long, brown coat, with too many pockets to count on two hands. Many different herbs and plants were visibly sticking out from within them.

The young man recoiled as if he had been stung, a deep growl rising from within his throat. He had committed a grave mistake. The caravan must have seen him back when he found the wolf and turned around to set up an ambush. Panic spread throughout his body, tensing his muscles, making it hard to breathe.

Keeping his attention on the older man, the boy's eyes darted around, not seeing anyone else. Could he have been wrong? Maybe the old man had been separated from his pack. He certainly looked terrified.

“Wha- Who are you?! You… you’re naked? What's wrong with you?! Don't kill me, please. Please!” uttered the man, as he cowered, crouched, with his face buried in his hands.

The boy felt his body ease. This creature was no threat to him, yet it was so loud and gesticulating. It would seem the old man was trying to communicate with him.

He did not understand.

Usually he would have ended an unknown threat before anything unexpected could happen, but this could be his only chance at establishing contact with his own race. So, he decided against striking the killing blow, and instead stood with his hands hanging limply at his hips, trying to look amiable. Not exactly something he was used to. Frankly, the old man seemed pathetic. His bulk was considerably more imposing than the boy’s, yet he remained defenseless and weak with fear.

Perhaps he was too used to the protection of larger pack.

Curious to see why death had not yet met him, the old man looked through shivering fingers, and saw the boy standing at ease, gazing into his eyes with an expressionless face. With his hands still held protectively before him, the old man slowly came to an upright position.

What a curious encounter, thought the young man. This creature is not like other animals, he truly is more like me. He seems to think and wonder, like me.

Ever carefully, the older man placed his open palm on his chest, bowing slightly, and said a single word: “Graven.”

The young man frowned, not understanding. The gesture seemed to mean something in combination with the sound. Perhaps it was a plea for mercy…

No, the man had regained some of his composure and that didn’t seem to be it. If he was gesturing to himself, it could be something he wanted, or something he was. While observing the other's reaction, the young man repeated the word, also with his palm on his chest. The old man raised his brows and widened his eyes. The younger felt that it meant either dissatisfaction or confusion.

So it was not the correct interpretation. Again, the old man touched his chest.

“My name is Graven.” he bellowed, “Do. You. Understand?” He emphasized every word loudly, “Say something! Why are you naked? What's with you?!”

He was shouting now. The young man did not like that, and he had started to become frustrated. Why had that fat man gone from fearful to defiant so quickly? This seemed to be a dead end, maybe it would be better to just kill him now and return to his former venture.

As soon as the young man took an offensive stance, Graven threw up his hands in horror, a shocked yelp escaping him. Graven started backing away quickly on clumsy feet. When the young man tried to grab him by the shoulder, Graven did a quick turn, wriggled his arms out of his sleeves, and broke into a run, all in one surprisingly fluid motion.

The young man was left baffled with the coat in his closed fist, the herbs spilling out. Now this he could recognize: the back of a fleeing animal. Maybe the man was not really like him, after all.

He gripped the coat by its shoulders and spread it out in the ground, so he had easy access to all the pockets, and searched them for herbs he knew. There were two that he had seen before. One, which had small, fragile, yellow flowers on a thin stalk that smelled good, but did not taste like much, but often made his wounds stop bleeding and heal faster when he rubbed it on his injuries.

The other had no flowers, but with thick, green leaves and a very bitter taste, which seemed to numb his body in some way. This would be helpful when caring for the little pup.

Graven was nowhere to be seen now, and the young man slung the coat over his shoulders, like how Graven had worn it, deciding to keep it and the herbs for experimentation. Disappointed to have failed miserably at his first communication with other humans, he walked back to his kill, and found the pup already crunching the hare's skull between its bloodied teeth. The boy smiled.

The pup had recovered some of its strength, and with the newly acquired herbs it could only get better from here.

He decided to spend the following night in the huddle of trees, judging it to be a more secure location, as predators would not spot them as easily when they lay in the cover of trees and bushes. And now that the pup had eaten the meat, he would have to find something else, and figured that if there was undergrowth, there would be edible plants that he could fill up on until they came upon a new prey.

Eating what greens he could find, he spent the day tending to the wolf's wound, which already looked better than it had the previous day. The wolf had to have a remarkable self-regenerative ability. A small creek flowed peacefully through, and the boy washed the wound thoroughly. The herbs he had found however, also contributed to a hasty and clean recovery, and he had even tried eating some of the other roots and leaves, but it had just made him dizzy and nauseous, so for now, he would just let those plants be.

Now that he had some time to ponder on his uniquely strange encounter, he had started to doubt this quest he had undertaken.

It was clear to him, that Graven had tried to convey a message to him, but he had understood nothing. And judging by how different Graven seemed, he could conclude that those had to be characteristics of someone from a pack. His timidness and the way terror easily overcame him, must be a result of seldom being alone. Would they not all communicate in this manner, with sounds and carefully formed words?

The young man could not comprehend the concept of language, and he was losing hope of ever understanding those like him, or even himself. Nevertheless, he would continue his journey, for he knew, that no matter how hard it would be to integrate himself in a pack, it would be better than any other option, out here. He had come too far, already. Also, even if the pup now seemed better, it still needed help and more than anything, rest.

Thus, the young man laid down next to the pup, under the same tree as he had climbed a few hours earlier, and quickly fell into a disturbed sleep – nightmares ravaging his exhausted mind.

He woke to birdsong and a gentle, caressing wind, feeling more well-rested than he would have thought possible in the situation. The pup, he saw, had crawled closer to him during the night, either for warmth or comfort or both, and in either case, he was happier about that, than he had been about anything in a long time.

Although horrifying, accidentally stumbling into this hill-country had proven to be an adventure. He stroked the little pup across the back, slowly waking it from a sleep racked with fever, its body working on maximum output to heal.

Even after waking, it hardly moved at all, lying with its eyes tightly shut and rapid breathing. The young man was afraid, that the wolf could be reacting differently to the herbs than him. What if it actually made it worse?

He tried to lift it gently off the ground, but all he got was a weak whimper as it put up a futile struggle. He laid it down again and dropped his head into his palms, feeling absolutely powerless. This was more urgent than he had thought, and he was afraid that it would soon be too late.

If Graven truly was a member of a human pack, it was very likely that the direction he had scurried off to was also the way to his pack.

The young man laid the pup in the sling he had made, and with haste and a rumbling stomach, ran after Graven, keeping a low posture to make tracking the footprints easier.

He flew past blooming meadows and weaving hills at speeds that far exceeded his regular pace, feeling more vulnerable than ever with the pup jerking in and out of consciousness, its heartbeat racing and its wounds festering.

The tracks soon showed proof of Graven's terrible shape when the prints started to appear closer to each other, until they finally became small and dragged, telling the young man that Graven had given up on running and started walking.

The boy snorted. He had a hard time believing that someone could live so lax a life, not keeping his body ready for fight and flight. If the pup had not needed aid, he’d started to think he would rather live by himself, than with such careless individuals. But he knew that when animals start taking it easy, it usually means that they feel safe and secure, often because they are familiar with their surroundings and they know that their pack is right around the corner. The young man's hopes were starting to brighten, now that he could see an end to this journey, be it a successful or fatal end.

No more than ten minutes later, he could glimpse an elevation in the land, whose size could not be compared to what he had seen so far, its width breathtaking to the point where he thought he had to be looking towards the edge of the world, yet Graven's tracks kept true, and the young man followed.

Now that he looked around, he saw that, in fact, there were numerous of such giants in almost every direction. But they were so far away, that he could only glimpse them when he really tried.

When he stood there and gazed upon the stone-titans, he felt suddenly small and insignificant.

As he followed Graven’s prints towards the imposing mountain, he noticed small protuberances that seemed to be methodically set up in a large area, most of them roughly the same shape as the next and the same grey color.

He could spot movement in between, and noticed the now familiar features of the humans - many humans. He quickly dropped down on all fours, hoping none of the humans had seen him approach. When there had been no signs of alarm from within, he slowly crawled towards the edge of a nearby forest. His forest. He felt it when he came closer, he could feel its breath, it exhaled a homely energy, that filled him with warm comfort.

The forest soon thickened, so he could walk upright, shrouded by dense gatherings of beech. He could still look through, being so close, and he could see that the city was bustling with activity. This was more than a pack, more than anything he’d ever seen. Nothing could describe the feeling he stood with.

Excitement, perhaps?

He could actually choose to go back to his previous life now, but somehow, he could hardly imagine doing so, now. He was at a border between his old- and his new life and he found an overwhelming desire to walk into the new one.

Now, what would seem less threatening, walking straight into their midst, or sneaking slowly closer? The answer was obvious.

With a dedicated trot, he made his way toward the city, wolf strapped over his shoulder, back straight, butterflies in his stomach. The closer he got, the more details he could make out. People were milling about within the city, each seeming busy with their own tasks. A strange structure of wooden stakes driven into the ground surrounded the buildings widely to each side. He was headed for the open gate.

Two tall, wooden towers were implemented into the fence on each side of the gate, and the boy saw a man in each. They were watching him, and so he watched them. Soon they were shouting to him, but whatever meaning they were trying to convey escaped him. He kept an eye on them while he passed under.

It did not take long for people to notice him once he inside, and he heard muffled voices all around him.

"Why is that man naked?” one said.

“He’s wearing a coat, but he didn’t even bother to button it. You can see everything.” exclaimed another, laughing.

The young man was still puzzled by their cryptic language, but he thought that he had learned a little already. Tone and loudness of voice were core components to convey moods and meanings. He wanted to try it out, and he thought he would say just a little to keep it as simple and fail-safe as possible, a word they had already said would be good.

He walked up to a nearby human, one who seemed to have strange bulges on its chest. He tried to look as calm as he could manage given the situation, keeping his voice from trembling, even though he had never been so tense before. This was far out of his comfort zone.

He laid his charge down in front of him and managed to utter a single word.

“Naked.”

Silence.

This was not good. Not at all good. The human to whom his word had been directed stood still, mouth in a tight line and eyes wide.

“Yeah, you are, friend. Maybe you should do something about that, eh?” said an old man from the crowd gathered around him.

They all started laughing. But why? He laughed with them. This was good.

A voice called out from within the crowd, “This kid is completely nuts. Just call the guards, already. You can never know with these kinds of people.”

Then someone started shouting. Suddenly everyone started to back away, as if the boy had lashed out. Before he knew it, arms were grabbing him from behind, attempting to pin him to the ground, a clumsy attempt that was never going to work on him. With hardly any effort, he stood as tall as he was, humiliated and furious, and shook the person off his back, just to see five more humans charging him, tackling him to the ground.

He was truly frightened, more so than he had been. Nothing had been a real threat to him, but he knew not what these people were capable of, and just the sheer number of them overwhelmed him, making him question his own intellect after he had walked into an enormous human city, defenseless and unprepared.

He was already dead, he realized. He’d be killed here. But if he were to die here, he’d bring as many of them into the ground with him as he could.

The boy was on his back with a person on each of his arms and one on his knees to keep him down, as they attempted to turn him over unto his stomach. He jerked his arm out of the grip of the man on his left and slammed his elbow into the man’s jaw. The poor guy fell over backwards from the impact, dropping like a rock.

The boy then brought that same arm in a clenched fist to the face of the woman on his right. She flew even better than the first guy. Now that the boy could sit up, he made short work of the third guard by grabbing him by the throat and slamming him into the ground hard enough to make his eyes roll back. When the young man looked up at what he realized were another four guards, he saw a look of something he’d guess was astonishment painted on their faces.

One of them quickly recovered and came at the boy with such speed that he couldn’t react in time. He managed to see a fist zooming towards his face just before his world blackened.

They kicked him awake roughly and made him walk by himself, holding him fast by his arms, shoulders, and neck, pushing him along, constantly poking his back with a long, dangerous-looking stick.

A man behind him carried the wolf in the sling. People stared as he was directed through the city, whispering among each other, and he noticed that all of them were clothed, could this be another method of communicating? And could his lack thereof have been a deciding factor in his failure? Or was it only the language barrier?

“Get moving, idiot!” snarled a guard, and shoved him forward with an aggressive burst of force making the wolf whimper. A pulse of anger flowed, and the boy spun, snarling. Then he felt a sudden intense flash of pain in the back of his head.

As he stirred awake, he became instantly aware of a dull, throbbing discomfort in his head and neck, making him squint at the light that streamed through a window in a square room. He had no idea where he was, and he could only vaguely recall recent events.

He wasn't dead, at least. The humans must have carried him here, but he couldn't remember what had happened after he met them. What was this place? It didn't look at all natural, leading him to believe that it was a structure built by the humans. He would have to find a way out, quickly, or they would surely come for him soon. His legs wobbled under his weight when he stood up, and his head felt heavy. More than anything, he just wanted to lay back down.

He now saw that he had been laid on a cot protruding from the wall. Additionally, the room contained a table with four legs, a small window near the ceiling, and a door with a knob and a narrow, barred opening to look through.

Having seen none of these things before, he figured his best option was the window, through which the warm sunlight flowed in. The ceiling in the room was set low, the young man only barely able to stand up straight as he inspected the window, just to conclude that that too, was sealed with metal-bars, that hardly budged when he tried to yank them out.

Through the window he could see people running and walking around, not even noticing him when he stared.

Best as he was going to the door, the sound of footsteps echoed. He rushed back to the small cot, laying on his side facing the cold stone wall, pretending to be asleep, as the steps came closer and closer.

He heard the person stop outside his cell, a metallic clacking sound, and then his door swung open on creaking hinges.

“Here he is, ma'am, as naked and dirty as when he arrived. We've not had time to question him yet, but we believe that something must be wrong in his head. He was behaving very strangely, not to say aggressively.” said one person.

“Thank you, guard. Your work is done, you may leave us.” said a higher, smoother voice. There had been two people.

“Ma'am!” A pair of feet walked away.

“Get up, lunatic!” said the high voice. He felt a hard kick to his ribs, and the now familiar sound of the pup whimpering made him turn, only to stare down a razor-sharp spear tip.

He hesitated, eyes flickering to the wolf. It lay in a ragged leather bag, slung over an attractive, blonde woman's shoulder. The woman wore a tight, black and green uniform, and had a hard and scornful look in her eyes. She wore her hair long, bound with a strip of leather in a tail. The young man wanted to touch her, but he didn't know why.

“Don't... move... a single step further. I will end you, if you force my hand. But I won't... If you answer my questions truthfully, that is.” she said, waving the spear tip in front of his face, his eyes following warily.

“So, who are you? A spy from that blasted cult? No, that seems unlikely. You've been acting far too conspicuously. You're not affiliated with any known faction, I think.” she muttered, mostly to herself. The young man kept quiet, unsure of what to do. She lifted the bag up by the shoulder-strap, thrusting her hand out towards him, the wolf dangling in the air.

“And what's this? You walk around with an injured wolf pup in tow?” She laughed, little humor in her voice.

“What's your name, man?!” She almost shouted, stabbing a finger in his chest. What was wrong with this human? Didn’t it understand that he couldn’t understand?

“Raiel.” he uttered.

It suddenly felt as if he had gained something, something he had lost a long time ago, but found again. He looked at the woman, uncertainty clearly visible in his eyes. This was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. Most things in his life so far had been dangerous but simple, nothing had ever been this complicated.

Raiel. That was a word, he realised. The only word he knew, and he couldn't for the life of him remember how he knew it, but he had always known that word.

No, not a word – a name. His name. Of this, there was no doubt in his mind.

“Raiel?” she asked, “what kind of name is that? Not from around these areas.” She sat for a while, lost in thought, and then she gave a sudden jerk, as if she'd been startled from a shallow sleep.

“That's right. Wear this.” she reached into the bag, and pulled out a long, wrinkled rope, and threw it to him. “You have an impressive body, but that doesn't mean that I want to see you naked. You’re also a bit too young for my tastes. Why were you even naked in the first place? Where did you come from?”

She placed her spear on the table and sat down next to it, studying him intently. She seemed to have calmed a bit. Raiel didn't understand her words, so he resorted to gestures, gently waving his hand in the direction of the pup. He wanted to check its wound.

He started to stand up, but with incredible speed she grabbed her spear and placed the cold steel against his throat.

“You have not been given permission to move! Your little friend is fine, we treated her wounds. For now. Her master being as unstable as you are, is not her fault. She will be safe in my hands, and taken well care of. If you are not yet willing to talk, I have no option, but to keep you locked up here. I will come to check on you every now and then. You better start talking soon. My patience has already started to run out.”

She lowered her blade, swung the bag over her shoulder again, and spun around on her heel, marching out of the cell, while calling for the warden to lock the cell, her boots clacking on the stone floor.

“Lad.” said the old warden, scratching his stubbly, grey beard, “Better not anger her any more than you already have. That's Tali. She’s a famous battle chief of Canyon's Gate, this city.” He cast a quick glance back, his eyes darting around nervously. He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly before continuing. “She has bested countless men in countless fights, and she is famous for her interrogation methods. Aye, she starts out nice and clean, asking question with a calm demeanor... But then she starts getting dangerous, she'll do things to you that have made big men cry, made them beg for mercy. And that's the thing. She doesn't show mercy, she just keeps going.”

He looked at the young man, as if waiting for a response, and sighed, looking like he'd said the same thing many times before in the past. When the boy remained silent, eyes staring, the tired man dropped his gaze to his waist where his keys hung.

“Well, your call, I guess. Not my place to meddle. I don't think you're the enemy, but Tali dislikes loose ends, so in her eyes, you're guilty until proven otherwise. Call out if you're thirsty, lad.”

He backed out of the cell, closing the door, and the young man heard a metallic rustle as the warden turned the key in the lock.

Raiel was once again alone. The whole time, he'd wanted to run berserk, but knew that something like that would only ensure the death of he and the pup. For now, he would keep his head low, studying and learning as much as he could about his own race, which apparently, was far more developed than he had ever imagined.

Not wasting any time, he walked to the window, and looked out, seeing for the first time how organized and practiced every human was, where he, just a few hours ago, had seen nothing but chaos. Here he could see people gesture and hear them talk.

He would learn. Learn everything.