"I lost my real eye in a fire," my boy said calmly. I could feel that he was trembling but he spoke in a normal voice. I had no idea he had such control.

"Your leg is wood," Gork the river troll stated. It wasn't a question. "And you talk like an elf but you smell like a human."

"Both my real parents were human. That's probably why."

"Were? They are dead?"

"My mother died when I was a baby. I hear my father is still alive but that may be a lie. It is said that he is very ill and unable to get out of bed. No one has seen him for three years."

"That would explain much, Crown Prince Andray Nordweg, missing for three and a half years but not proclaimed legally dead because that takes six years according to Nordweg law," Gork straightened up and stepped back. "You are welcome at my hearth, young prince who lives with elves and rides a spirit beast who is tied to your soul."

That last statement left my head spinning. I'm tied to my boy? Maybe that's why I feel like my place in the world is next to him. But why? I know now what I am but I don't know why I am. When I have time to stop being myself and can just sit and think, I wonder why I exist and why I feel tied to this boy on the verge of becoming a man. Can I have any desires in this life that are just my own?

"Fuzzy?" Cat Rider's voice broke through my thoughts. "Everyone is waiting for us."

I looked up and saw everyone standing and looking at us. I bounded down the slope to join them.

* Do you eat fish? * Gork asked me.

* I can but it is not a preferred meal. *

* Oh! I can feel your disdain for fish from here. * I felt amusement in Gork's answer.

* A small herd of deer is just over the northern ridge on the other side of the river. Trumble can take you there if you would like. What you do not use, we can include in our cooking so the meat is not wasted. *

* That would be most kind of you and Trumble. * I replied. Then I waited for Cat Rider to dismount. He was taking his time. While he was undoing the stirrup strap, Trumble thumped over, linked his thick stubby fingers, and lowered his hands in front of me.

* When you are ready, come lie down in my hands and I will carry you safely across the river. I will let you down on top of the ridge so I don't scare your prey. We don't get venison often so it's a real treat for us. *

"Trumble, what are you doing?" Roaming Wren walked over and looked confused at Trumble waiting for me to step into his hands.

"I will take Fuzzy to hunt deer," Trumble rumbled his reply slowly.

"What?" Cat Rider blinked.

* Didn't you at least sense that we were mind talking, Cat? * I asked my boy. * A mage of your ability should have been able to at least sense I was mind talking with the trolls. *

"I didn't hear or feel a thing from you or them, Fuzzy," Cat Rider stepped off of me carefully, since it was when he was most prone to lose his balance.

"Fuzzy," Trumble looked at me, "only a spirit beast such as yourself can mind talk with magical creatures like trolls. Elves and humans can not hear us in their minds. I would be happy to discuss where this fits with the theory of magic, but later. Now I take you hunting little deers."

I used a little spell to get the undone stirrup strap off me and then stepped gingerly onto Trumble's big hands, which were big enough to hold all of me. I expected his hands to be hard and cold but was surprised to find there was some give to the skin and it was warm. Once I was down into a couchant position, he lifted his hands so I was level with his eyes. Then he turned around and walked into the river.

As the water level came up to his shoulders, I understood why he lifted me so high. It was an exciting experience. When we arrived at the other side, he continued through the trees and up the nearest ridge. He managed to shoulder the trees aside so no branches would swat me as we passed. He stopped about 10 yards from the ridge crest and lowered me down.

* There are eight deer, one buck, five does, and two fawns. One doe will give birth soon. I will stay here. * Trumble told me.

* I will try to take the buck or one of the does who is not a mother. * I replied and slunk into the groundcover. I had to circle to get downwind of the deer. They were banded-tail deer, which I had never hunted before. They aren't native to the forest that covers the western elven lands. They were bigger than the whitetail deer I usually hunted so it took me longer to take one down, but I was happy because it was a clean, fast kill. The doe may have felt a brief sting when I first set my teeth, but her neck snapped in less than a breath. I liked to think that my kills were painless, but alas, I've never been able to ask any of my kills whether I sent to the afterlife painlessly.

I grabbed the dead doe's neck and started to drag her up the slope toward Trumble. Then I felt his footsteps coming toward me.

* Stay there, Fuzzy. I will come to get you. We don't need to worry about scaring the deer anymore. *

Trumble made two trips across the river to get both me and the deer carcass across, but dinner was both fish and fresh venison. Cloud Eye took the time to bleed the deer properly. Since I don't eat my meat cooked, bleeding it doesn't make that much of a difference in taste for me, but it's something the two-footed deem important.

Trolls have big appetites. The deer only lasted one meal. I told Trumble that when we hunted tomorrow, we should take at least two and maybe three deer. That way there would be some leftovers for my breakfast.