Southern Realities

[Bowen Lark]

A night’s rest and two full meals had lulled Bowen into a hazy contentment. He still itched with eight years of disappointment, but the feeling was so common now the wolf could almost ignore it. Almost. His sigh was nearly a groan. After wandering through the fort the day before, Bo had steeled himself against hope of finding his brother or sister within its walls. The southlands were large, expansive enough for a year’s wandering or more, if the maps were to be believed. The wolf felt a familiar compulsion to troll through the south, just as he had done to every Fates-cursed land since Caneria. Ah need teh make sem money firs’, so ah cen get some bloody help. Bowen had made a half dozen reliable contacts in his search, creatures who were close to the underbelly of society, who knew how to find other creatures – but the wolf needed money to reach them, and money to pay for their services. Enlisting for a year’s service in the foot troops was his guarantee of a wage and home until Bowen had the coin to start looking again.

It nagged him though, stalling the search for Darrow and Bensen. His little sister and brother were out there, possibly slaves still, possibly worse. The wolf paused to thank the Fates for his relative good fortune: his opportunity to buy his freedom, the generosity of his masters in allowing him to learn his trades. And Bo had never been a slave – just a thrall, one of the spoils of war for another country to exploit, and then set free. Noble in et’s own way, the wolf thought, making a wry face. The scars beneath his clothing twinged, aching faintly.

His life had had its share of rot and shadow. The worst of it in him had yet to heal, remaining a series of infected wounds deep in the soul. Near it Bo kept a single flame of faith that finding his brother and sister would commence that healing, for all of them. Eight years his life was in limbo, driven by a single desire to find his bloodkin. And then what? A mate and family, a life of service, or a long, slow descent into old age and death? Bloody mess, this is, Bo thought and sighed.

He returned his attention to the marketplace, which in the early morning was as busy as expected for a port city. The wolf was still wearing his lightest tunic, but the material was still too heavy and warm to be comfortable in southern climes. Bo scanned the avenue of fabric merchants, looking for a tailor. He padded down between the stalls, ignoring the chirping voices of peddlers and merchants. No one approached him, which Bowen assumed was due to the dirk and dagger visible on his belt – or at least the permanent half-scowl on his mouth. But the isolation calmed him, making it easier for the wolf to eye the tunics and shirts hanging from stall tents as he moved.

Bowen paused at a tent near the end of the avenue, eyeing the row of tunics on display.

“May I help you, sirrah?” the dark brass voice of a leopard rumbled from his right.

Bo looked at the plainspard, who wore only a dark brown vest and a pair of loose white breeches belted with a sash. The wolf had only seen a leopard before once, and was momentarily fascinated by the coordinating pattern of dark amber fur and black markings. The pard cleared his throat.

“Oh, eh, sorry,” Bowen muttered, showing the leopard a lopsided smile. “Ah’m lookin’ foor a set of tunics. Come frem th’ northlands, an’ meh clothin’s too heavy for this weather.”

The big cat nodded, “I come from lands far hotter than these. The material my clan uses is as light as silk, but far stronger. I make tunics, breeches, trousers, and shirts from it, as well as garments cut in the style my people wear. What do you need?”

“Tunics, shirts, an’ a two pair good trousers,” Bo said, shifting a hand to feel the nearly hollowed contents of his coin pouch. “All ah’ve left are two gold pieces an’ three silver, mind.”

The leopard shrugged a brawny shoulder. “Less than that will do. Just mind you tell your officers who outfitted you, as a favour to me. My name is Kadejo Sun.”

The wolf bowed his head, “Would be meh pleasure, Master Sun.”

Kadejo pulled a knotted cord from his sash and waved Bowen over. “Let me measure you. Please remove your shirt.”

The scars twitched. Bowen hesitated, and then shrugged out of the tunic and pulled the undershirt off, his face blank. Kadejo glanced at the map of scars and the tattoos without blinking, and then swiftly passed the knotted cord over the wolf’s shoulders, chest, torso, and legs, muttering to himself.

When he was done, the pard met Bo’s gaze fierce green-gold eyes.

“You are not irregularly built. This is good. I have two or three tunics in your size currently, and can make more by the week’s end. I have one pair of trousers for you as well, and can have another with the tunics. The cost will be one gold piece and two silver. Undershirts and breechcloths are included.”

The wolf blinked, watching Kadejo make a pile of tunics, one pale green and the other white, undershirts and breechcloths in white, and a pair of light khaki trousers. The pard folded and tied the bundle, presenting it to Bowen in a coarse haversack.

“Come see me at the end of the week here, and I will have the rest of your clothes.”

“Meh thanks, Master Sun,” Bowen murmured, handing the leopard the coins. “Ah’m grateful.”

Kadejo’s tail twitched, and the pard let go a slow smile, “Just remember to mention me to others. Business can always be better.”

The wolf half-smiled again, drifting from Kadejo’s stall into the market avenues to wander through the merchant labyrinth.

[Aryela Jade Secray]

Four days ago, Elmera had found herself wandering aimlessly across the land. She had had no sense of direction, her map had been torn, and she had been certain that she would come across brigands before she found the majestic Fort Emerald Bay. As luck would have it, the she-wolf had stumbled upon the correct road and with the guidance of a squirrel, she had made her way to the beautiful fort. Upon her arrival, she had even had the fortune of being greeted by the Commander, Brooke Briar. A delicious meal of blancmange had filled her stomach and a warm bed provided the perfect end to her first day at the fort.

Now, Elmera was taking her time to explore Emerald Bay. She had already looked at the barracks, the dormitories, and the Great Hall, where she hoped to play for Brooke Briar and her mate, Rockpaw Steeleye. But Elmera had to bide her time, and she also needed to find a way to earn a little money to pay for her room and board. Her money pouch was getting rather low. Fortunately, Elmera had a song in her heart and she was ready to share it with the residents of Emerald Bay.

The red she-wolf walked calmly through the Topaz market, a pleasant smile on her face. She was dressed in a white gown that echoed her stage name; Swan Siren. The dress flowed elegantly around her legs while her billowing sleeves were tightened at cuffs around her wrists. She had tied her headfur back with a cord, leaving a few white feathers to fly free at the end of her braided tresses. Elmera carried a lute over her shoulder; the rest of her instruments had been safely stored away in her room.

Beasts bustled around in front of her. One bumped into her side, giving the she-wolf a start. She was met with a glare before the beast turned and ran off in another direction. Elmera lifted an eyebrow and shook her head. Ah, some market places never changed. She would always find at least one rude creature. So long as the shoppers didn’t ruin her instruments, she didn’t mind a bump or two. Her gentle eyes roved over the unfamiliar faces. She saw a few wolves, which brought her some comfort. She knew that “goodbeasts” often considered wolves to be dangerous vermin. Heck, their sister species, the fox, was known for terrorizing kind beasts. Fortunately, times were changing and the prejudice against canines was waning.

Elmera walked around for a little longer until she came to a small fountain in the center of the market. Her eyes lit up, noting a few children playing with the water or play fighting with sticks while their parents shopped. The market place was one of Elmera’s favorite areas of a fort to play music. Even if she didn’t attract the adults, she could at least entertain the young children.

Smiling, she approached a group of dibbuns consisting of two squirrels, a mouse, an otter, and a rat drawing figures in the dirt with sticks. This could be a lot of fun. Elmera sat down slowly beside the little ones and brushed down her skirt. The mousemaid glanced at her and sucked on her paw curiously before going back to work with her friends. Elmera flashed her a smile then pulled out her lute. She played a few strings, tightening the cords here and there to tune the instrument. The rat looked up followed by one of the squirrels. They watched her curiously as she ran her claws along the strings, emitting a very beautiful sound. Once she had all of their attentions, she began to sing in a merry voice.

“Upon, upon, the chariots ride
On winged stallions safely glide
Across the sky and mountains wide
I’ll wait for you on the moonlit tide

Jason’s Argo sails the sea
To bring the golden fleece to she
Who put the dragon fast to sleep
With a touch of sorcery

Children flee Medusa’s face
With a twisted head of snakes
Perseus’ shield sealed her fate
Placed her head on Athena’s plate

Upon, upon, the chariots ride
On Pegasus you’ll safely glide
O’er the sea and rivers wide
I’ll wait for you on the moonlit tide

Sailors hear the sirens’ song
For their beauty, captains long
Steer their ships where they ne’er belong
With a crash, the men are gone

Persephone makes a plea
For Hades to set her spirit free
After winter comes the summer tree
Then Persephone comes back to thee

Upon, upon, the chariots ride
On white swan wings Zeus will glide
To Leda near the rivers wide
He’ll wait for you on the moonlit tide.”

By the time Elmera came to the last line, all of the children had sat down on the ground around her footpaws, listening intently to the stories of yore. Several adults had stopped to watch as well, and much to Elmera’s delight, they dropped some coins into the lute case at her side. The she-wolf smiled at them and chuckled as a little squirrel ran to her side, clapping his paws eagerly.

“Sing more?” he asked, his eyes bright.

Elmera laughed and looked at him then at the crowd. “Can I have some suggestions?”

[Bowen Lark]

Bowen was only mildly surprised to find himself lost amidst the stalls and merchant tents coalescing into the Topaz Markets. His gaze lost some of its smoky blankness, sharpening into a darker blue as the wolf glanced around the market. Lifting Kadejo’s haversack onto one shoulder, Bo turned in a slow circle, trying to gage his whereabouts amidst the market crowds. He wasn’t worried, though his eyes retained their glittering focus. The brown and gold wolf shifted pace from an aimless amble to a more calculated step, glancing now and then at the wares offered by merchants and vendors to piece together where he was in the labyrinth of stalls.

The wolf’s eyes flicked over to a fountain where he heard the last few chords of a song drift into the morning air. Bowen was no musical genius, but he appreciated a good tune and chant. His eyes fell on the youngsters circling the performer, and a twinge went up around his heart. Mild, but still there, still leaving the same dull ache. His childhood was a briar full of dark thorns, with few memories bright enough to savour. Bo paused mid-stride as the faded recollection of him and Darrow and Bensen together slipped through. In their early years the wolf had looked after his twin siblings during the day while their mother worked or drank or slept. He had treasured their naïveté before the blush of innocent happiness had paled and disappeared as realities of their life set in.

Ah protected ‘em as well as ah could en th’ camp, the wolf thought, drifting nearer to the performer’s crowd. He was one of the few adults in audience, and the only other wolf besides the singer. It barely registered through the leak of thoughts in Bowen’s head. Ma never got after Ben while ah was there, but Darrow… His sister, the younger twin, had taken some of the worst of their mother’s treatment, lacking the sense to curl up or disappear when a fight was coming. Bo didn’t consider himself a coward, but he was adept at avoiding confrontation – a skill that had not appeared in his younger sister. So Darrow had bourn the brunt of their mother’s vented spleen, and the knowledge of this left Bowne with the same old, familiar guilt.

Bo searched in his pocket and dropped one of his remaining coins into the she-wolf’s case. His gaze was stony and distant, clouded once more by the echoes of memory.

“Can I have some suggestions?”

He looked at the she-wolf and frowned, forgetting for a moment where he was. The last traces of her song went through Bo’s head again.

“D’ye know Th’ Wind in th’ Dale?” he murmured, voice just above a whisper. “Et’s en ald marchin’ song frem th’ north.”

With that, Bowen stepped back amidst the crowd, but did not disappear. Amidst the fort’s southern citizens, the wolf’s dark mottled fur and too-heavy clothing stood out. His gaze was neutral, almost detached, broken only by the flicker of a hopeful smile across his maw.

[Aryela Jade Secray]

Elmera watched the children with amusement as they wracked their brains, trying to come up with a song that they wanted the bard to sing. The she-wolf leaned back calmly and played a few chords on her lute, thinking of pieces the dibbuns might enjoy. It had been a while since she had played for little ones. Normally the adults wanted stories about heroic beasts or great battles that Elmera did not feel were suited for children's ears. So, what then could she play? Lullabies would put them to sleep, and nursery songs would chase the elders away. Maybe-

The she-wolf looked up as another wolf approached and dropped coins into her case. She nodded her thanks, appreciation shining in her eyes. Elmera was grateful for any money that she received. As a bard, she tried to earn her own money and she did not like beasts buying things for her. She had to work to receive her earnings...or at least that was the code that the Lemardee's lived by.

“D’ye know Th’ Wind in th’ Dale? Et’s en ald marchin’ song frem th’ north.”

"The Wind in the Dale," Elmera mused, thinking. The sorrow in Bowen's voice and eyes was not dismissed as he stepped back into the crowd. Elmera's gaze lingered on him a bit longer, as if sending him silent comfort. She knew that many beasts had lived rather wretched lives. Elmera actually considered her family lucky. Yes, they had faced hardships but most of her siblings were still alive and well. "Hm, I know a few versions of that song but if you want the one from the north..."

Elmera played a few more notes then nodded. Ah, now she remembered. The she-wolf cleared her voice and played a somber introduction before her voice floated around the market.

"March on down to the great ravine
Soldier, warrior, follow me
Sword and axe and shield and bow
Placed below where poppies grow

Live and march through the gale
The Wind in the Dale

I left my home, my wife, my son
To be there when the vict'ry's won
I'll hear them sing that song for me
When I free our great country

Live and march through the gale
The Wind in the Dale

Upon the waves of war we ride
Remembering those who have died
But I promise that I’ll be home one day
For me you’ll see no poppies sway

Live and march through the gale
The Wind in the Dale

Come now brethren, fight as one
Beneath the crimson rays of sun
Moonlight gleam on spearheads sharp
Do not go to the angel’s harp

Live and march through the gale
The Wind in the Dale

Open the door, I’m home again
The great war is at an end
Morning greets my child’s birth
Twilight greets my dark bed; earth

Sleep and rest beneath the gale
I’m the Wind in the Dale”

The last lines faded with the music and Elmera looked around. The little ones were humming the song happily, not realizing the dark connotation behind the words. When Elmera glanced at the adults, she saw a few haunted expressions while others nodded their heads, understanding the message in the song. More coins were thrown into the case and this time a freshly picked red rose followed. Elmera glanced at the flower and watched as an elder otter shuffled away from the crowd with his cane clacking on the cobblestones. The she-wolf’s brow furrowed and she coughed under her breath before smiling.

“Seems my throat is getting a little dry, young ones. Do you mind if I take a break to get a drink?”

“AWWW!” came the loud whines. The dibbuns grabbed at her skirts or insisted that she keep singing, but fortunately a few elders shooed them away, insisting that Elmera would be back. As they returned to their parents, the she-wolf smiled and rose to her footpaws. A sad expression settled on her face as she picked up the flower.

Red. Of course it would be red, just like the poppies. Just like his grave décor… Ah well. With a sigh, she tucked the rose into her belt and began to count through the coins, thinking she could buy a drink and some food before she went back to work. Her stomach rumbled, drawing a merry chuckle from her muzzle.

“Alright, alright, I’ll get food in a moment,” she murmured to herself.

[Bowen Lark]

She knew it. The opening chords of Wind in the Dale slipped into Bowen’s chest and settled beneath his heart, so soaked with memories it nearly staggered the wolf. He choked out a whimper as the she-wolf began the opening lines, and remembered…

Bowen had learned the song from his father. Ollerick had been present so rarely, so briefly, that he had only taught his son a verse at a time, until two years had passed and a younger Bowen knew all of Wind in the Dale. The wolf’s lips twitched with the words, gripped with a familiarity so real he was nearly transported to the marching camps. Bo remembered Ollerick rumbling out the song, his voice a laughing warm bass that sunk into the tune, flavouring it. The wolf bit his tongue to stop from singing along with Elmera, though he allowed his foot to tap the beat.

When the song ended his brow furrowed and a whimsical frown tugged on his lips. Bowen clapped while the others milled around Elmera to offer donations. Beneath his mottled fur the wolf went hot – he had scarcely enough coin left to feed himself, and could not afford to offer the she-wolf money to thank her for obliging his request. But when the others dispersed, Bowen lingered near the singer, waiting for her to finish collecting her possessions before he approached.

“Ah’m grateful yeh knew th’ song,” the wolf rumbled, husky-voiced. “Yeh have a true gift fer singin’.”

Bo chewed on his lower lip for a moment and then offered the she-wolf a small lopsided smile.

“Ah’ve scant few pieces of coin left, but may ah get ye summat teh eat an’ drink ‘fore yeh coom back an’ sing?”

He stood straight and almost at ease, bringing his arms down to his hips to look as disarming as he could. Bo didn’t smile readily – not for ill humour, but because the scar across his mouth made the expression look like a leer or scowl without him intending it to. The wolf let his tail wave gently instead.

Bowen wondered if offering to take Elmera for food and drink was against local propriety. He was a foreigner, wearing clothing ill-suited to the climate and speaking in a brogue – perhaps if the she-wolf was offended, she would forgive his ignorance. The wolf had read of places where maidens were taught to ignore males who did not court them. Any interaction outside of marriage could sully a female’s reputation, branding her without virtue or discipline. Those ideals puzzled Bo – such strict attitudes had not existed in the marching camps, where lust and love were realties between adults, no courtship required.

The wolf warmed again beneath his fur, hoping Elmera wouldn’t take umbrage to his offer. Entranced by her singing, Bo hadn’t really noticed the she-wolf’s appearance – glancing at her now, however, confirmed that she was quite comely. Bowen fidgeted as a light wind scattered the tufts of headfur on his crown.

“Ah’m Bowen Lark,” the wolf said suddenly, breaking the silence. “Please dun take meh offer as bein’ too forward. Ah’m new teh th’ fort.”

[Aryela Jade Secray]

Elmera fingered the coins in her case, a slight smile toying at her muzzle. The beasts at Emerald Bay were quite generous. Normally she only made a few pieces her first few days out but already she had enough to last her a few meals. The she-wolf took a pouch out of the side of her case and stuffed the money inside. Instead of locking it in with her instrument, she slid it into another pouch on her belt. Her instruments meant more to her than the money. While it would be troubling to lose her earnings, she would much rather have that stolen than her beloved instruments. It was much safer to keep the money out of the box.

The lute was placed lovingly on the cushion and she shut the top with a soft click. Though the outside of the case was worn from use, it looked to have been mended and treated kindly. Elmera smiled then slowly stood up, flicking headfur out of her hazel eyes. The sunlight played at the green flecks as she turned to face the beast approaching her. By scent, she could guess who had stayed behind.

“Ah’m grateful yeh knew th’ song. Yeh have a true gift fer singin’.”

"You're quite welcome," Elmera replied, a pleasant smile on her muzzle. The she-wolf draped one paw loosely on her lip and let the other dangle to her side as she took Bowen in. He was a rather handsome wolf, by her standards at least. Roguish....perhaps a bit mangled but hey, who was she to complain what with the scar lining her eye? The she-wolf stood perhaps a few inches shorter than Bowen. Her well-kept red fur seemed to gleam as she shifted on her footpaws. "I thank you for the suggestion. I actually really like that song myself. Beautiful...though sad as well."

The she-wolf smiled and looped the strap of her lute over her shoulder. She was about to make her way over to the stalls that sold food, but was surprised to find that Bowen was still standing there. Elmera lifted an eyebrow in surprise and tilted her head when he spoke.

“Ah’ve scant few pieces of coin left, but may ah get ye summat teh eat an’ drink ‘fore yeh coom back an’ sing?”

Well, this was certainly a surprise! Normally beasts would give her coins, but rarely ever a free meal. Those who offered often had something else in mind. Bowen didn't seem like that type of wolf, though, which Elmera was grateful for. She wanted no trouble while she was at Emerald Bay.

“Ah’m Bowen Lark. Please dun take meh offer as bein’ too forward. Ah’m new teh th’ fort.”

Elmera laughed, her voice ringing merrily. "Well then, Bowen, you and I have something in common. I arrived only a couple of days ago so I'm still adjusting to fort life. Oh, I'm Elmera by the way, Elmera Lemardee." She held out her paw for him to shake then grinned. "And I'm sure you are genuine in your offer. Still, I prefer to pay for my own drink and meal....it's just my way as a bard."

She stared at Bowen a little longer and felt her shoulders relax a bit. He seemed like a pleasant wolf and it would be nice to make one friend at Emerald Bay, asides from the fort Commanders of course. While she might be able to refuse the food, perhaps she didn't have to refuse his company. "However, that doesn't mean I wouldn't enjoy some company while I eat. Conversation is payment enough if you're so worried about repaying me for the song."

[Bowen Lark]

Bowen lacked any grace of formality – he was a soldier's child, but he had not been raised under that conduct. The only guard the wolf had was his own wariness, but decent food and a few nights of rest had coddled him, reawakening a loneliness that was not entirely connected to his missing family. His vigilance remained as it was, tempered only by nearly a decade of failure – Bowen was still looking for his siblings, but each passing year diminished his hope of ever finding them. His money had all but run out, he was in another foreign land, alone, and he was tired. Canna th' Fates gi' meh one sign they're alive?

He drifted from his thoughts and studied Elmera again. The wolf was unfamiliar with musicians, often falling in with hunting parties or archer bands where artistic endeavours were rare. Bo could cook, having learned from the chefs in his last master's homestead, but that was the length of his creative talent. Although his gaze was only faintly warm, the mottled wolf was deeply impressed by Elmera's abilities.

"Well then, Bowen, you and I have something in common. I arrived only a couple of days ago so I'm still adjusting to fort life. Oh, I'm Elmera by the way, Elmera Lemardee. And I'm sure you are genuine in your offer. Still, I prefer to pay for my own drink and meal....it's just my way as a bard."

The wolf tilted his head, taking her proffered hand and clasping it in his. He felt the calluses on her fingers from a lifetime of instrument playing, just as his were rough and grooved from stringing his bow hundreds of times.

“Et's meh pleasure, Elmera,” Bowen murmured, releasing the she-wolf's hand. “An' ah understand how 'tis teh make your own way.”

He turned to go, placated enough by her reasoning not to feel like a brash fool.

"However, that doesn't mean I wouldn't enjoy some company while I eat. Conversation is payment enough if you're so worried about repaying me for the song."

Bowen paused, ears flicking, and looked sideways at Elmera. A small blossom of delight unfurled in the wolf's chest. He was never sought out for company. The pleasure glittered in Bo's dark blue eyes, added shine to their smokiness. He returned to the she-wolf's side.

“Ah hope yeh know th' markets, Elmera,” he said, wry-voiced. “Ah got lost a ways back coomin' frem one of th' tailors. This place is bigger'n sem towns ah've stayed in.”

He ran his thumb along one of the silver bracelets that adorned both wrists. They were plainly made, etched around with words in Canish – one for brother, one for sister. The bronze amulet around his neck was a Northern custom, used to designate thralls who had paid their slave price.

Bowen glanced at Elmera again as they moved through the market crowds. She was so unlike any Northern wolf he'd ever met. He was just a scant few inches taller, and his fur was short and tufted. How could they both be wolves? Bo scratched at one ear and gazed bemusedly around the market stalls, unable to answer his query.

ooc: heh, this is all my muse wants to do right now.

[Aryela Jade Secray]

“Ah hope yeh know th' markets, Elmera,. Ah got lost a ways back coomin' frem one of th' tailors. This place is bigger'n sem towns ah've stayed in.”

Elmera chuckled under her breath and reached out to pat Bowen comfortingly. "You aren't the first to get lost in the market, Bowen, I can assure you of that." Markets were often difficult places to navigate, unless one was a frequent visitor like Elmera. After years of playing at forts, Elmera noticed a trend in the marketplaces. There seemed to be a spider web map that she had to follow to find desired tents or stalls. Once she located one area, it was not difficult to find others, provided that the markets were mostly all the same.

The she-wolf tugged on Bowen's sleeve with her paw and began to guide him past the many stalls. Beasts moved around them, chattering, laughing, and bargaining. She saw a young child pull an apple from a cart and show it to her mother who quickly scolded her for trying to steal. Elmera shook her head and slowed a bit so she could walk at Bowen's side.

"Here's a piece of advice for you. When you enter a market for the first time, try to find the very center. Forts often have fountains or some sort of monument or great stall set up to show beasts the very center. If you want food, you'll usually find it near the markets that sell fresh herbs, fruits, and vegetables. You can find a nice meal around there. For weaponry, listen for a blacksmith's hammer or look for beasts who seem to be carrying around more weapons or armor than usual. For herbs or healing, head towards a part of the market with many, many plants. You may find food there as well."

Elmera grinned and shrugged. "It sounds complicated, I'm sure, but once you get used to navigating the streets, it won't be quite as difficult." The she-wolf looked around and sniffed a few times. The scent of cooked meat and heavily seasoned soup assailed her senses. She licked her lips in appreciation and began to guide Bo down another street. A few more beasts brushed past them. Elmera was careful to keep her paw near her instrument as well as her money pouch. Beasts had stolen from her once or twice before. She had learned to be very careful in a crowded market.

It did not take them long to approach the stalls brimming with salted meats, fresh vegetables, scrumptious breads, tarts, soups, as well as rice and chicken dishes. Colorful tarps were draped over some of the stalls, enticing Elmera even more. Her stomach grumbled loudly and she stared at the different stalls before wandering over to a particular one with a faded blue flag out in the front. An elder otter leaned over and gestured to the large pot of what looked like chunky gravy.

"Try a taste of mawmeny, milady?"

Elmera sniffed then tilted her head. "What's in it?"

"Oh, little bit of this and that. Chicken, some almond milk, and plenty of lovely spices for a lovely lady," the otter said and winked.

Elmera chuckled and waggled her claw. "Ah, good sir, flattery will get you nowhere." The otter's expression wilted a bit, drawing a mock sigh from the she-wolf. "But I must say it does smell rather tasty. A bowl of that with bread if you please."

The otter nodded obligingly and scooped some of the thick concoction out. After cutting off a slice of bread, he gave the food to Elmera and bobbed his head. The she-wolf flipped him a couple of coins, probably more than the meal was actually worth. By the tattered clothing he was wearing and the rather disheveled look of his fur, she had a feeling that he had fallen upon hard times.

Elmera backed up a step and glanced at Bowen with a smile. "What do you think? Would you like to try a taste of this or find something else?" She had no qualms about searching the marketplace for other food stalls that was for certain. After that, they could find a nice place to sit down and share their meal and a nice conversation.

[Bowen Lark]

Bowen tried another smile, coaxing the right of his mouth out of its rigid set. The hidden scar there, a reminder of his first wound, tugged and twitched, but held firm. A dart of pain flickered along his jaw, reminding the wolf that old wounds weren’t quick to cooperate. He grimaced, blinked, and offered another slanting half-smile. Without the warmth in his eyes, it would have been a smirk. Bo’s ears went back in apology. He tucked his chin down and away from the she-wolf, parsing through his thoughts to find some explanation for his twisted expressions.

“When ah was a young’n, ah caught th’ bold end of a spear ‘cross meh mouth. Left a scar, makes et hard teh smile summat. Ah dun want ye teh think ah’m leerin’ at ye.”

He shrugged, looking helpless. The market crowds swelled around them, busy merchants and curious pedestrians pausing to steal glances at the two wolves moving up the stalls. Bowen carried their scrutiny with unruffled grace, more used to outright hostility than amicable interest. Wolves were not uncommon in the south, he had learned, but any sort of foreign beast was enough to elicit a stare. Caneria’s armies had always been a menagerie of creatures, enlisting without discrimination. So long as a body could march and fight, it was suitable. It was only later, in his thrallhood and beyond, that the wolf understood there were old prejudices in the world, and even older hurts.

Bo watched the interactions before them with equal curiosity. The tension from an onslaught of reverie had faded from his body, lightening the wolf’s pace to an easy stroll. His jaw was loose, maw parted slightly in a faint grin that added gleam to his gaze. His ears swayed forward at every noise, and Bo’s tail never stopped its gentle wave. He felt good, better for Elmera’s company than that of his memories. Her advice was welcome, rich with a sensibility Bowen himself had momentarily lapsed in. He copied her instructions to memory, cementing them by glancing around the stalls they passed, surveying baskets of foodstuffs and all manner of drink.

“Ah could well navigate a brack of woods ‘fore ah could a fort,” the mottled wolf admitted, running a hand against his headfur. “Hopefully yon general of th’ Twilight Trackers has sem use for me outside of these walls. Yesterday ah got lost coomin’ frem th’ gates teh th’ enlistment barracks.”

He was distracted by the scent of roasting meat. Hunger rattled like gravel in the wolf’s belly, which was nearly as empty as his purse. Even without Elmera’s guiding hand, Bowen could have found the cooking stalls. He wandered between them, staying within arm’s length of the she-wolf. Canish food was not likely to be found so far to the south, but every breath or so he caught scent of a certain spice that had been popular in the marching camps.

"What do you think? Would you like to try a taste of this or find something else?"

Bo turned and approached Elmera, black nose twitching. He looked down at the spiced dish and gave another crooked smile.

“Ah’ve had that ‘fore, travelin’ dawn frem th’ Northlands. Whet’s et called?”

“Mawmeny,” the otter supplied, his voice tinged with hope. “Old family recipe, this. A bowl, m’lord?”

“Eh?” Bowen squinted, unfamiliar with the title. “Ah’m nay lord. An’ aye, a small bit, if et please yeh.”

The otter merchant beamed, rushing to carve a hole into a small bun. He filled the husk with the mawmeny, murmuring thanks as Bowen exchanged some of his remaining coin for the dish.

Bo sipped at the gravy, closing his eyes as the spiced gravy settled in his belly. Mawmeny…Should learn teh make this.

The last of Elmera’s question came back to him. Bo licked gravy from his lips as he answered.

“Ef ye dun mind th’ wander, ah’d be well pleased tae have a ken at whit else is here. Food’s meh guilty pleasure. When ah was on meh own at first, ah could barely keep a fire. ‘ventually figured ef ah was cookin’ fer mehsel’, should do et well.”

He was as well-used to hunger as he was to fine cooking, coming near to starvation his first months of freedom. But time had taught Bowen to seek happiness in what he could do, so the wolf was proud of his cooking, his archery. He had little else to dwell on with any sort of satisfaction.

Bowen moved alongside Elmera, passing stalls just as tempting as those they had left behind. He paused to swallow the last of the bread bowl, the last of the rich gravy bringing a purr to the wolf’s gut. Another merchant called them over to examine a rice dish.

“This come far, far east,” the red panda said, producing a leaf roll that contained rice, thinly sliced vegetables, and a sweet-smelling sauce. “Small, but filling.”

Bo bought two of the rolls and offered the other to Elmera. The blend of hot sweet sauce and crunchy vegetables against the slippery lettuce was unlike anything the wolf had ever tasted.

“Ah’ve never seen so much food,” he said, the heat from the roll still on his tongue. “Truth, ah’ve only ever been on this land. Heard there are places beyond here, east. Different worlds altogether. Ye ever been aught else, Elmera?”

[Aryela Jade Secray]

“Ah’ve had that ‘fore, travelin’ dawn frem th’ Northlands. Whet’s et called?”

Elmera went to respond, but the kindly otter supplied the answer for her before she had the chance. The she-wolf smiled and took another gulp of the thick, juicy gravy. She chomped on a small piece of chicken that came with the spoonful, then nibbled on the bread. The bread bowl that Bo selected was a very good idea that she hadn't even considered. The scent of the spices filled her nose and she licked her lips before going back to her own meal. Elmera loved to try all different sorts of foods. In fact, she loved any food in general. She just wished she had the time, the skill, and the money to make the delectable meals. As a bard, Elmera was trained to play music, not cook. While she could make a meal without burning it, it certainly never tasted as good as the items she bought from the market stalls or the tavern.

While she shared a meal with Bo, she took a moment to consider the scarred wolf. His comment about not being able to smile had almost given her pause. She had to wonder who would have inflicted such a cruel wound on his face. Elmera was not innocent when it came to the viciousness of vermin. She'd lost family to their blades, causing her to wonder if Bo too had faced such horrors in his life. It would not come as a surprise.

The she-wolf licked her spoon and finally handed the bowl and utensil back to the otter.

“Ef ye dun mind th’ wander, ah’d be well pleased tae have a ken at whit else is here. Food’s meh guilty pleasure. When ah was on meh own at first, ah could barely keep a fire. ‘ventually figured ef ah was cookin’ fer mehsel’, should do et well.”

Elmera laughed and glanced at her companion. "You're a bit better off than I am, I think. I can cook, but not like this." She gestured to the market and grinned. "I wish I knew how to properly season foods and make such intricate, mouth-watering dishes. I cooked for my siblings for awhile until my elder sister, Ojala, took over for me. She has a knack for cooking. I envy her sometimes." The she-wolf chuckled again and patted her stomach. "I miss her home cooked meals when I'm out on the road, but I'm better off than many beasts. At least I know the basics of cooking unlike some of my fellow bards."

She had come across small campsites where bards had little more than scraps of bread, rotten meat, and molded vegetables. The unfortunate souls struggled to make a soup that would have surely claimed their lives or would at least have made them severely ill. Elmera had stopped and offered some of her own supplies. While the soup had tasted rather bland, at least it hadn't killed the poor bards.

Elmera looked around as she walked beside Bo, keeping close. Her eyes caught the quick movement of a paw as it snaked out and tried to steal from a hare several feet away from them. The would-be victim quickly grabbed the youngling's paw and chided him furiously until the lad dashed into an alley. Elmera shook her head and stifled a sigh. Yes, one had to watch out for thieves. She was always afraid that someone would try to steal her instruments, never mind the money. Many beasts thought she was silly to worry about her instruments so much, but her lute meant more to her than any coin ever would.

Elmera tucked a strand of headfur behind her ear and glanced at the next stall they came to. She sniffed at the enticing smell and she felt her stomach rumble. One paw slid to her coin purse, but Bowen beat her to it. Before she could say anything, he had handed off one of the wonderful rolls. Elmera took it in her paws and sniffed it before nipping at the lettuce, rice, and vegetables. The warm, sweet sauce raced down her throat, causing her to gasp momentarily. Wow! That was hot but so good! The she-wolf smiled in appreciation and gobbled the rest of it down quite quickly. It was certainly unbecoming of a lady but Elmera frankly didn't care. The she-wolf licked her fingers slowly, savoring the tangy sauce as it rolled across the tip of her tongue. Yes, that certainly hit the spot!

"That was so delicious," Elmera breathed between licks.

“Ah’ve never seen so much food. Truth, ah’ve only ever been on this land. Heard there are places beyond here, east. Different worlds altogether. Ye ever been aught else, Elmera?”

"Hm, I've traveled to many places," Elmera commented as she finished cleaning her paws. "Unfortunately, I've never traveled over seas before so I'm not certain what is in the foreign lands. I have tasted foods from different places. The spices are absolutely extraordinary. I can't believe how a few plants can change the taste of chicken or meat. I would truly love to travel...just to see the world and learn different music. Maybe I could even learn different instruments." Elmera sighed wistfully and shook her head. It was a whimsical dream, but she could never leave her family behind. Even traveling for a year would be difficult since the Lemardees tried to meet at a festival in the fall. They had missed the one last year because of the birth of Ojala's daughter, Elmera's niece. Elmera still had yet to meet the pup.

The she-wolf looked around the market a bit more then held up a paw. "I think it's time for some dessert," she murmured as if it was a great secret. Elmera went over to a stall and quickly purchased two bowls of a sweet smelling treat. It looked to be cut pieces of fruit, possibly apples, with almonds sprinkled throughout the dish. Steam rose from the dessert as Elmera handed it off to Bowen. "Careful, it's quite warm. This is Emplumeus. I had it when I was visiting a fort called....I think it was Southsward actually. They had some really talented cooks there." As she spoke, she poked at a piece of the apple and blew on it. As the juicy fruit cooled, she slid it into her mouth and chewed slowly. "Hmm...this tastes different. I think they added rose water to it. Yum."

Elmera motioned to an empty bench set up beneath a tree to one side of the market to offer shade to all of the buyers and sellers. "So tell me a bit about yourself, Bowen, if you don't mind me asking. You've told me you're a good cook though I'd have to sample some of your food to be a fair judge," she said, winking playfully.

[Bowen Lark]

"You're a bit better off than I am, I think. I can cook, but not like this. I wish I knew how to properly season foods and make such intricate, mouth-watering dishes. I cooked for my siblings for awhile until my elder sister, Ojala, took over for me. She has a knack for cooking. I envy her sometimes. I miss her home cooked meals when I'm out on the road, but I'm better off than many beasts. At least I know the basics of cooking unlike some of my fellow bards."

Bowen felt heat beneath the fur on his face and bit his lip, trying not to look pleased. He was not a braggart by any stretch, but the chance to inject a point of pride into his conversation with Elmera had been too hard to pass up. Bo liked to cook; he had spent the morning making a list of provisions for his barracks, which was equipped with a tiny hearth and cooking pot. Fodder from the kitchens was part of his enlistment package, but the mottled wolf preferred to do his own cooking. Piecing together a meal allowed him some solitude from the rigours of everyday life, most of which necessitated prolonged interaction with other creatures. Bowen enjoyed company (especially the kind he had presently!) but he was a loner at his core, and happier to be surrounded by silence, or at most, the chatter of one or two others.

“Ah could teach yeh te cook, no mind,” the wolf said, licking the last of the sauce from his lips. “All yeh have te know is whet yeh like te eat.”

His smoky gaze followed the young thief into the alleyway. Nowhere, no matter how beautiful and peaceful it seemed, was safe from crime. At least th' South did 'way with slavery. A shudder lanced up his spine. There was such a terrible harshness in some places, Fort Emerald Bay seemed near onto a dream. Bo watched a group of well-fed, comfortably-clothed creatures swarm around them and disappear to spend full purses of coin on market wares. The slave markets had been similarly populated by wealthy patrons looking to score a fresh body. He remembered being bartered over, the price dipping and peaking as both slave-merchant and potential master had their say.

They passed the grumbling hare as he muttered, “Worst criminals in th' world, right 'ere. A body can't e'en feel safe!”

Nay, yehr wrong, the wolf thought, his ears falling. An undercurrent of immorality existed everywhere, it was true, but Bowen had borne witness to far worse crime than anything the South could dream up. It had been common in the slave markets for two newly-purchased slaves to be put to fighting each other, until the victor limped away covered in the gore of his opponent, beaten down by another brand of power. He trembled faintly again, trying not to think of what happened to Caneria when carnage had come calling.

Another glint of delight brightened the wolf's eyes as he studied Elmera's reaction to the spring roll. Picking them had been a split-second decision, the force of their enticing smell and the vendor's high praise. Bowen enjoyed the rare dash into foreign cuisine when he could afford it, but a flash of confidence had prompted him to share the rolls with the she-wolf. He did not regret the decision.

"Hm, I've traveled to many places. Unfortunately, I've never traveled over seas before so I'm not certain what is in the foreign lands. I have tasted foods from different places. The spices are absolutely extraordinary. I can't believe how a few plants can change the taste of chicken or meat. I would truly love to travel...just to see the world and learn different music. Maybe I could even learn different instruments."

Bowen thought of another world of food, spices, and drink and nearly laughed. It seemed unreal, even as he remembered that the fort had seemed unreal too, at first. The desire for any sort of warrior life was so dull in him that the wolf felt silly at times for having mastered archery. The thought of travel was so appealing, but so long as Bo was anchored by the obligation to find his siblings, he remained a reluctant soldier.

"I think it's time for some dessert."

The wolf's ears pricked, and whatever remaining empty spot in his belly rumbled. Dessert was a rare treat; he accepted the bowl gladly, and followed Elmera to the bench. Bo sat and dug an almond out of the Emplumeus with his spoon, savouring the crunch under his teeth.

"So tell me a bit about yourself, Bowen, if you don't mind me asking. You've told me you're a good cook though I'd have to sample some of your food to be a fair judge.”

“Ah do alrigh',” the wolf chuckled, setting his spoon down while the dish cool.

He looked at Elmera for a long moment, parsing through his memories to cobble together a short, acceptable version of his life. How much dark did she want to see? How much could he let her?

“Sem of et's hard te explain. Ah was born en th' North, in Caneria. Et went te war a ways back an' stayed tha' way for as long as ah could remember. Eventually got conquered an' named summat else. Ah was...me an' meh siblings were made inteh thralls – slaves, but wi' th' option of buyin' our freedom. Was a hard go for sem years, ah'll grant.

“Meh brother'n sister were sent off wi' a different master. Ah managed te buy meh freedom a few years back, an' made a go learnin' archery an' how te survive. Ah came here te look for 'em.”

Bowen shrugged, grimacing apologetically. “Ah dun mean te burden ye with meh troubles, Elmera. Et's just...there en't mich sun in meh past. Whet of ye? How did yeh learn te play yehr instruments?

[Aryela Jade Secray]

“Ah do alrigh'."

Elmera smiled and poked around at her apple dish. A whiff of the sauce tickled her nose and brought a delighted expression to her face. While music would always be her love, food was pretty high on that list as well. Different flavors, concoctions and spices reminded her of her far travels. She was pleased to discover that the Emerald Bay marketplace was relatively cheap compared to other forts. These meals were also cooked with loving paws so the food tasted absolutely wonderful. Elmera nibbled on another apple then glanced over at Bowen.

Asking about someone's history was always a dangerous thing to do. Some beasts guarded their secrets violently, threatening to kill anyone who delved too deeply into their pasts. Some beasts would just leave when asked the question. Others, thankfully, were much calmer and would kindly decline. On rare occasions, she found creatures who were willing to relive the best or the worst days of their lives. Ghosts haunted Elmera's past, but she would not allow them to ruin her life. So many creatures wallowed in their regret and despair. They didn't take the opportunity to actually live life to its fullest. Those kind of creatures bothered her. While she could respect the hardships they'd had to face, she had to wonder why they wouldn't just let go of their past horrors and move on with their lives. Why destroy their adulthood with their childhood fears?

But then, she clung to guilt as well; she just didn't dwell on it every second of her life. Elmera "hmmed" softly under her breath and leaned back against the bench. She dropped her head onto her paw while allowing the dessert to cool on her lap.

“Sem of et's hard te explain. Ah was born en th' North, in Caneria. Et went te war a ways back an' stayed tha' way for as long as ah could remember. Eventually got conquered an' named summat else. Ah was...me an' meh siblings were made inteh thralls – slaves, but wi' th' option of buyin' our freedom. Was a hard go for sem years, ah'll grant."

If Elmera was surprised by this information, she didn't show it. Slavery was not new to the she-wolf. Though Elmera, herself, had never been a slave, she'd met beasts who'd lived in chains. It was so horrible to keep innocent creatures in captivity, especially children. They deserved to run free and play, not break their backs working for some monster. The she-wolf frowned after a moment and moved her paw to her lips. Poor Bowen. No wonder he had the scars on his cheek. That was just terrible. And to have his siblings go through the same thing!

“Meh brother'n sister were sent off wi' a different master. Ah managed te buy meh freedom a few years back, an' made a go learnin' archery an' how te survive. Ah came here te look for 'em. Ah dun mean te burden ye with meh troubles, Elmera. Et's just...there en't mich sun in meh past. Whet of ye? How did yeh learn te play yehr instruments?"

Sympathy and empathy flashed in Elmera's eyes. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose Jenna, Ojala, Benjamin or Delmure to the life of slavery. To never know what had happened to them. To never know if she would see them again. It had been hard enough when she lost her brother Paulis to the war. At least she knew where his body rested and what had become of her beloved sibling. She understood the pain of loss. Unlike Bowen though, she didn't suffer from the stress of looking for her lost sibling. What a terrible way to live his life. He seemed like a relatively happy wolf, but now that she stared at him, she could recognize the lines of sorrow, grief, weariness and perhaps a touch of guilt as well.

Tenderly, Elmera reached out and placed a soft paw on Bowen's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I know that cannot bring back what you have lost, but...I am so sorry you and your siblings had to endure that life. I've known beasts who've been in slavery before. Some have been driven mad by it, but you....you still seem to cling to life…savor it. You're a special wolf to be able to walk away from that experience and still enjoy the world around you. I admire you for that."

Elmera slowly dropped her paw away and cupped the warm bowl in her paws. "I hope that you find them. I...know what it's like to lose a sibling. I can only hope that yours come back to you one day."

The she-wolf fell silent for a moment, thinking about his questions. She didn't mind answering him, but she was lost in thought. Perhaps she could help him find his siblings....she was a bard after all. She met so many creatures traveling in the world. A thoughtful expression crossed her face before she realized that she had not responded to him for a good few minutes. "Oh...sorry. Had something on my mind. I learned to play my instruments from my father, my mother, and then later on my step-mother. I went to school for awhile to learn different instruments, but I ended up teaching myself a lot of what I know. My family is full of musicians. Each of my siblings plays an instrument. I actually taught some of them when they were only pups." Elmera smiled fondly and glanced at the lute. "We're known as the Lyrical Lemardees. We're all traveling bards, though my sister, Ojala, has finally settled down with a mate and a pup. Each year we try to meet together at a festival to play. We were able to play together for the first couple of years but we missed the last one because Ojala had her pup."

Elmera paused to take a bite of the apples then went on. "My parents passed on quite some time ago." She didn't bother saying how. "So, it's just me and my siblings. There were six of us at one time, but my brother, Paulis, was killed fighting a war. So, that leaves Jenna, my youngest sister, Ojala, and my twin brothers, Benjamin and Delmure." She chuckled. "If you ever run across those two, turn the other direction before they catch sight of you. They're tricksters. I think they got that from their mother....my step-mother."

The she-wolf fell silent for a moment then shrugged. Actually, Ojala was her only biological sibling. The others were the pups of her father and step-mother...but they were no less her siblings. Elmera glanced at the wandering crowd and smiled a bit sadly. "There's been hardship...darkness in my family, but we've all pulled through. Hopefully the same will happen for you and your siblings." She looked over at Bowen and lifted an eyebrow. "I travel quite a lot, Bo...if you could describe your siblings for me, maybe I can help you find them. I have a rather good memory for appearances and names..."

[Bowen Lark]

The sudden confession left Bowen feeling empty. He was so used to silence and keeping his own secrets that Elmera's willingness to listen had opened an unknown floodgate. Embarrassment made the wolf's face hot, even if his story was as clean as he could make it, negligent of the dark caused by so many years at war, as a thrall. There were stories buried so far in his memory only careful, long and painful excavation would bring them to light. And Bowen was not eager to do the digging. He cast a glance at the she-wolf, remaining silent while they shared the first taste of the apple dish. It was good, subtly sweet, but not enough to wash over the bad taste in Bo's mouth.

His treatment as a thrall had been very fair, comparatively. From the horse merchant, Bowen had learned basic mathematics; from the blacksmith, the skill of mending weapons and tools. It was at the homestead where he had eventually bought his freedom that the wolf first began to cook. Bo remembered his days there with clarity – experiencing the proudest moment of his young life when the head cook allowed him to make the stew for the first time. The irony was not lost on Bowen – slavery had brought his life the comfort his freedom had not. Of all his masters, none could topple the wolf's mother from her well-earned place as the primary antagonist of his existence. A shiver went up Bowen's spine. He tried to quell the memories of her cruelty and manipulation, how she had pitted him against his siblings, how she had finally torn them apart forever. Those memories deserved to be buried.

The weight of Elmera's hand on his shoulder provided the first tactile comfort Bowen had had in months. He blinked as a tide of gratitude rushed warm through his chest, nudged forward by her kind words. This was rare good luck – a meal with a compassionate creature (and so comely!). The heat returned to his ears.

"I hope that you find them. I...know what it's like to lose a sibling. I can only hope that yours come back to you one day."

“Et'd be enough te know they were well,” the wolf said, stirring the contents of his bowl. “Though every year go by, every rumour tha' cooms up wrong...makes et harder tehe think they're still alive, ken?”

He sighed and let a small sad smile overtake his mouth. The search for Bensen and Darrow felt lately like it bloomed from obligation rather than hope – Bowen was dedicated, as much out of habit as love. When he thought about his siblings, he could see them as they had been last: young, unblemished by slavery. Ah dun even know whet they look like now, he thought with a rumble of unease. Bo looked up and realized a long silence had established between him and Elmera. It was...nice, a small chance to recover from the old wounds he'd opened. The quiet between them was peaceful, the kind that arose from shared, but separate, contemplations.

He listened with pricked ears as the she-wolf described her musical upbringing, feeling a prick of sympathy as she described the tragedies of her own life. Hardship created a universal understanding between creatures – as Elmera spoke, Bo knew intuitively to shy away from pressing the bruised parts of her life. His eyes took on a sympathetic gleam, brow furrowed as the wolf sifted through the dregs of his memories for a reference of the Lyrical Lemardee's. Nothing. Being poor and homeless did not afford Bowen much opportunity for leisurely enjoyment. He knew a few old marching songs, and the odd ribald ballad, but was foreign to the kind of music Elmera played. Hearing her sing had been like happening upon some sort of mythical creature. The skill required to create that kind of beauty... An' a whole fam'ly like tha'! Hard te believe.

"I travel quite a lot, Bo...if you could describe your siblings for me, maybe I can help you find them. I have a rather good memory for appearances and names...”

Bowen looked at the she-wolf, nonplussed by her sudden offer.

“Elmera...if yeh...ah'm, ah'd be extremely grateful for any help,” his voice shook slightly. The wolf's expression was almost disbelieving. “Et's been a long while since ah've seen either Darrow or Bensen. But...eh...Ben was dark-furred, like th' colour of soil, with a rare fleck of gold here an' there. He was slim as a pup, though tha' might have been our mam not feedin' us much. Pale eyes, lighter than a summer sky. Good pup, he was, smart an' helpful. Darrow was her sister, but she was Bensen's twin. She's th' lightest of us, more gold. Blue-eyed, all of us. Short, like Ben, an' slender too, as ah recall. Had a bit of fire en her, more than me an' Bensen combined.”

He coughed, scratched the table with a claw.

“Ah dun know whet happened te either of 'em, Elmera. We were sold te different masters, an' tha' was th' last ah saw of either mah sibs.”

[Aryela Jade Secray]

“Et'd be enough te know they were well. Though every year go by, every rumour tha' cooms up wrong...makes et harder tehe think they're still alive, ken?”

Elmera nodded slowly, perfectly understanding what he meant. It was hard to wait for family members to appear when she'd been separated from them for so long. When the Lyrical Lemardees got together each year to sing at the festival, Elmera always wanted to arrive last because she hated waiting for her kin. She never knew if bandits would accost them on the road or if terrible weather would drive them into hiding for the night. Her siblings couldn't always find birds to send letters to her so the Lemardees would have to wait a few days for some family members to appear. Elmera felt just the hint of jealousy since her two brothers stayed together, as did her two sisters. She was the only one left without a sibling. It made traveling and performing a little difficult since she missed her family so dearly. She didn't know what she would do if they just suddenly went missing. As years passed, she would have given up hope as well.

The she-wolf sighed and put her fork down in the dish of apples. They were discussing a rather sensitive topic, one that she didn't want to think on but one that Bowen obviously needed to talk about. She could tell that he had been traveling and suffering alone for the past how many years. He needed a friend to listen to him and to bolster his confidence that he would find his siblings. Perhaps it was wrong to instill false hope within him but at the same time, hope was better than despair.

“Elmera...if yeh...ah'm, ah'd be extremely grateful for any help. Et's been a long while since ah've seen either Darrow or Bensen. But...eh...Ben was dark-furred, like th' colour of soil, with a rare fleck of gold here an' there. He was slim as a pup, though tha' might have been our mam not feedin' us much. Pale eyes, lighter than a summer sky. Good pup, he was, smart an' helpful. Darrow was her sister, but she was Bensen's twin. She's th' lightest of us, more gold. Blue-eyed, all of us. Short, like Ben, an' slender too, as ah recall. Had a bit of fire en her, more than me an' Bensen combined.”

Elmera thought for several minutes, her eyes closing as she imagined the two wolves he talked about. She'd seen many beasts in her days as she traveled around the world. The advantage that she and Bowen had was that wolves were still sparsely populated around the area. Emerald Bay seemed to have a few, but other forts would only have two wolves or maybe a tiny handful, if they had any wolves at all. They were also so differently colored that each wolf was rather unique.

“Ah dun know whet happened te either of 'em, Elmera. We were sold te different masters, an' tha' was th' last ah saw of either mah sibs.”

"Hm, give me a moment to think. I want to say that one of your siblings sounds familiar." Elmera leaned back and continued racking her brain, looking for any similarities between his description, and the wolves that she had met. There was Maysong fort, but that one barely had any wolves. Thenerack had more wolves, but none that matched Bowen's description. She sifted through about six more places before her eyes opened and she glanced at the wolf. "Darrow...I think I remember that name. I was at a smaller village, one that centered around trade. I remember...playing and watching my audience. There was a wolf standing at the back...gold fur..thin. I can't recall her eye color. She didn't smile or dance like the rest of the audience, she just watched me. When I was nearing the end of my song, I heard someone shouting at her. I thought he had said 'Arrow' but it could have just as easily been Darrow. She spun and ran away and that's all I can recall." Elmera flicked an ear and glanced at Bowen. "That was about a year ago I think, maybe a little less, at the village of Talberry."

Elmera nodded slightly and folded her arms over one knee. She was surprised that she could pull up such a memory, but the she-wolf had ignited Elmera's curiosity. In a sea of goodbeasts, one lone wolf stood on the outside, watching...silent. It could just as easily as been some random wolf and not Darrow, but she really did want to give Bowen some hope that his sibling was still alive.

"Something else you may want to try, Bowen, is to ask the Commanders or the gatekeeper to look at the roster of beasts that have come to Emerald Bay. If this place is like other forts, they may keep a list of when beasts enter and leave. Perhaps one of your siblings was here long ago..."

[Bowen Lark]

Hope leeched into the wolf's body, and with it, enormous strain. If what Elmera said was true – that Darrow lived, was only leagues from Fort Emerald Bay – the end of Bowen's wearying journey was well within grasp. And surely if he found Darrow, Bensen would not be far – they were twins after all, and would have been kept together if only for the novelty of look-alike slaves. A set. But he had come to Fort Emerald Bay exhausted, both in body and in funds – states that had not yet changed. Bo thought he could collect a few coppers for his blades, but the bow would fetch no more than a laugh. The bracelets (one for each twin) would fetch a higher price. He would have to mortgage everything, including himself. Bo was weak with the realization that finding his siblings was nearly worse than just looking for them.

And then what?

Agitation came over him, digging claws at whatever hope Elmera's recollection had dredged up for the wolf. He was grateful, so grateful, for her help, her willingness to step out for a stranger in need. But this was...like something coming to an end, something that never should have started. This was the last decade of his life, yawning up at him and ready to swallow Bowen into an uncertain future. The Bensen and Darrow he knew were figures encased permanently in memory, faint shadows with fainter personalities. Bowen remembered them well enough, but there was nothing to confirm his memories held any flicker of truth now. Darrow could have gone from sullen to sweet, and Ben the other way. Likely worse, afflicted by their bondage like so many other slaves.

A dull pain spread out over the wolf's shoulders. He dropped the fork and ran a hand over his eyes. When the ache subsided, Bowen lifted his head and gave the she-wolf a small smile.

“Sounds enough like Darrow, frem whet yeh've said,” Bowen murmured, uttering a low, humourless laugh. “She was hell'n thunder, rightly enough. Gave oor mam th' feel of her temper – she was th' only one of us bold enough te do it, mind. Caught more'n her share of grief for et, though. Ah suppose et would take more'n slavery te strip Darrow of her spirit.”

"Something else you may want to try, Bowen, is to ask the Commanders or the gatekeeper to look at the roster of beasts that have come to Emerald Bay. If this place is like other forts, they may keep a list of when beasts enter and leave. Perhaps one of your siblings was here long ago..."

“Eh?” Bowen's forehead notched quizzically at Elmera's suggestion. Then his eyes widened.

Records...records!!

“Gud Fates,” the wolf wheezed, sagging back in his chair. “Ah ben doin' thes all wrong.”

He could barely read – turning to words was just not the first avenue he went down. But others could read, Bowen knew, and they could check the records, scan out a name or a description for him. A crooked, delirious smile grew across Bowen's mouth. He looked at Elmera.

“Mebbe ah could even send away fer records frem other towns an' forts, aye? Gods! Elmera, yeh're bloody brilliant.”

Bo laughed, a sound like the crash of waves against a shoreline. He felt younger, better than he had in weeks. Records...he could search for Darrow and Bensen while working. He could recover from the fatigue of a years-long journey. And he could find them, Fates willing.

“Ah'm no' sure where te begin,” the wolf said finally, returning to his more taciturn state. “Es there sem sort of records house 'round here? A...a library, ah thenk they're called.”