I could tell that the days were getting much shorter, and the nighttime chill no longer melted away when the sun was at its peak.  It had been several weeks since I left the desert, and the more I traveled the more winter made itself known.  I was already wearing the wool clothing from my pack; soon it would be time to pull out some of the heaviest clothing I’d packed.
            In the late afternoon, the pack and I found a nice grassy clearing in which to spend the night.  After some careful exploring, we found the ruins of several buildings among the roots of massive trees.  One of the ruins must have been an armory, I discovered, for amidst the debris I found a pile of rusty weapons.  The scabbards must have long since turned to dust.  However, there was one that shone as bright as the day it was made, and when carefully tested on a finger, was just as sharp.  It was a shortsword, not much longer than my lower arm, and I carefully wrapped it in my spare cloak and stowed it inside my backpack.  This clearing, I realized, must be the grove of Montolio DeBrouchee, the ranger my parents had told me about.
            The grove brought with it a sense of peacefulness, one last connection to my parents so long after their deaths.  I had been happy at the Cave of Dreams with Ris, but this had a subtle difference.  For once, I slept by myself and went to sleep with the feeling that both Liam and Riona were with me.
            I woke in the middle of the night to a screaming, snorting shadow plunging down on me.  I rolled quickly to the side, then to my feet, calling a witchlight that lit the entire grove in a brilliant, slightly lavender-tinted hue, allowing me to observe whatever monster was in our midst.  The wolves had retreated to the very edge of the glade, where I caught glimpses of eyes and silver fur, and heard soft growls all around me.  I turned to watch as the horse-shaped shadow had a kicking, bucking fit in the middle of the grove.
            After several moments, it stopped and stood, snorting small puffs of steam coming from its nose.  After finally looking around a bit, it shook its head.
            ‘Oh!’ Came a voice that resounded in my head.  ‘I thought they were sending me someplace else!’
            I stayed silent and invisible in the shadows, watching and observing.  The wolves were doing the same; I could no longer hear faint growls, yet I sensed their waiting patience.  After scrutinizing the creature in the middle of the clearing, I could see that it looked like a horse.  In fact, it looked like a very well-bred horse.  At its shoulder, it was about as tall as I was, which isn’t very tall.  It had a beautifully arched neck that ended in a head that only seemed a little small.  Its mane and tail matched its coat in the darkest shade of black, as black as my own skin.  The eyes were black as well, with a lighter color center, and small puffs of steam or breath came from its nostrils.
            After several minutes went by with no movement from either me or the wolves, the horse looked around again, and uttered something not unlike a human sigh.  ‘Mortals! Always skittish!’  With that, he shook his head, folded his legs underneath his body and lay down.  From there, he laid his head on his knees and for all appearances went to sleep.
            I sat down as well, and watched this horse.  Other than the flick of an ear, he gave no indication that he was paying any attention to all of us.  After half an hour had gone by, I decided it was time to do something.  Stepping silently to the edge of the clearing, I found Stormwatcher with my mind and made hand motions for him to stay where he was.
            I slowly walked across the clearing, silently as the shadow which was my wolf name.  I was soon standing next to the horse, who had given no indication that he had noticed me, or that he was even anything but asleep.  I stood next to him, unsure of what to do.  I finally reached out my hand and put it on his neck, when I did, he opened one eye and looked at me.
            ‘What’s the matter, haven’t you ever seen a horse before?’
            I shook my head silently.  This close, I could see his eyes were really black with a center that seemed bottomless, filled with small flecks of many different hues of orange and red which seemed to move slowly of their own accord.  His skin under my hand was warm; not uncomfortably so, but warmer than any horse I’d ever ridden.
            He scrambled to his feet quite gracelessly.  ‘Are the rest of your friends going to keep cowering in the shadows?’
            My eyes narrowed.  “They’re not cowering, they’re watching.  But you are a horse, and they are not; they will come if I am hurt.”
            He looked at me.  ‘Really? How very heroic. Now if you mortals are done bothering me, I would like to go back to sleep.’  He trotted to the edge of the clearing and laid down again, once more appearing to fall deep into sleep.
            I regarded him warily before retreating to the edge of the grove as well.  I could feel the wolves’ restlessness.  I touched the bracelet on my wrist which was attuned to each amulet the wolves wore.  The advantage for me was that it also enabled me to share minds with each wolf, much the way my pendant worked.
            <Stormwatcher, I don’t trust him.  We should watch in shifts.  I have a feeling that neither we nor he are going to be very rested come tomorrow.>
            The night went uneventfully for the most part.  When I went to sleep for the first watch, I could hear the heartbeat of the horse slowing as he fell deeper into sleep.  I took the third watch with Nightsong, and the strange horse only stirred once during that time.  He shook his head and uttered small noises as if in the throes of a nightmare, at which point I took pity upon him, touched my pendant, and gently nudged his mind away from the subject that made him so unrestful.  But come morning, most of us were somewhat rested, while the horse looked as if he had suffered those nightmares throughout all five watches, getting his only real sleep when I touched his mind. 
            Once the horse got up, he took off running, galloping away, but always seemed to be just within hearing distance.  He came back just as I was trying to start a fire unsuccessfully with flint and steel.  He stood and watched over my shoulder, distracting me from starting the fire with magic.  Finally, I got fed up with him, and vented my rage.
            “Do you mind?  Or do you purposely stand there watching smugly to distract me?!”
            He looked at me in amusement.  ‘You mortals! Always so jittery!’
            “I don’t suppose you would like to try starting the fire with flint and steel using your hoofs?!  And stop calling me a mortal, I am only half so!”
            He looked at me smugly.  ‘Me?  Start the fire?  Why certainly, I’d be delighted!’  With that, he walked up to the fire ring, took a breath, and breathed a stream of fire on my unlit fire, setting it nicely ablaze.  I was momentarily taken aback, but just as quickly had my bow drawn and aimed between his eyes.
            “There is only one horse-shaped creature in this world that breathes fire like that.  What do you want, nightmare?”
            ‘Hah!  If only!  You said it yourself, you’re only half mortal.  What do the purebloods think of you?’  He said the word purebloods like it was a curse, spitting it in my direction.
            I lowered my bow, understanding dawning upon me.  “You’re only half nightmare.  In a full blood society... they threw you out.  Exiled you.  You thought they were sending you somewhere deserving of a half-blood, in their eyes.”
            He sneered at me.  ‘And why should you think any different?’
            I threw back my head and laughed.  “Horse, in this pack, we don’t treat half-bloods any different.  Everybody has their talents; half-bloods have some of the most unique because of their mixed blood.  There are a few of us in this pack with mixed blood, some not as obvious as others.”  The wolves were returning from the morning hunt, keeping cautiously to one side of the clearing.  “If you’re going to run with this pack, I can’t keep calling you horse; you need a name.  And since you refuse to share yours, I’ll just have to give you one.”  I thought for a minute, then spoke again.  “Yahn is a good name for you.”
            He threw up his head, seeming startled and angry at the same time.  ‘Yahn!?  That’s the name you’re giving me?!  It’s a horrible name!’
            “Well unless you choose to tell me your name, then you’re just going to have to be stuck with it,” I said, chuckling.
            The next few days went fairly uneventful.  The wolves hunted, and slowly taught Solstice and Equinox how to hunt mice.  They went with the pack for true hunting only once, where their childish play and eagerness made it unsuccessful.  In the meantime, I had another job.  I had realized that the reason we traveled so slowly was because, in my humanoid form, my two legs couldn’t keep up with the four of the wolves.  Trying to spend all my time in my werewolf form was exhausting, and the more strained and tired my mind became, the greater the chance I lost control.  So our pace each day was dictated by how far and fast I could walk.
            I brought this up to Yahn one morning.  “Yahn, I can’t keep up with the wolf pack, we travel too slow.”  He looked at me uncaringly.  “We would travel much faster at your pace.”  He looked off into the distance, half ignoring me.  I wasn’t sure if he was purposely avoiding the subject, or if he hadn’t caught on yet.  “If you would allow me to ride you, our pace would be much better.”  His ears pricked up and he snorted; I had his attention now.  “Yahn, I’m sure it wouldn’t be too difficult to…”
            ‘No.’  He interrupted me before I could finish voicing my thoughts.
            “What?”
            ‘You heard me.  I said no.  Absolutely not.  You would yell at me and pull my mane.  You’ll just have to walk.’
            I silently let it go for the night, but brought it up every single night afterwards.  The answer was always the same: no.  But I persisted, and finally after almost two weeks of bringing it up, I was rewarde3d.
            ‘If I say yes, will you shut up about it?’ Yahn asked in exasperation.
            “Yes!”  A grin snuck its way across my face.
            ‘And you promise not to pull my mane?’
            “Yes!”
            ‘Then I’ll let you ride me.  Now leave me alone.’ He was sitting by the fire and turned his head away from me.
            I couldn’t contain my excitement any longer.  “Thank you!” I all but yelled, throwing my arms around his neck and giving him a hug.
            Yahn ignored me.  He’s good at that.

                              -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -

            Once I did convince Yahn, it was a completely different story to actually do so.
            We started first with just sitting and not moving.  I used a dead tree stump at the edge of the clearing to get on Yahn’s back.  ‘You’re sitting all wrong, it’s uncomfortable.’  He complained.
            “Well than tell me how I should sit, you overgrown goat!”
            He heaved a sigh, but complied.  ‘Sit up straight, just behind my neck.  If you’re sitting on my rump, you’re just going to fall off as soon as I move.  Grip with your knees to keep yourself from falling off.’
            “Where do I put my hands?”
            ‘As long as you don’t pull my hair, I don’t care.’
            I looked at him, exasperated.  “Yahn, I need a bridle.  This isn’t working, I have to hold on to something.”
            He shied, nearly throwing me off him.  ‘I will not wear one of those abominable things!  They put metal things in your mouth and haul your head around!’
            Sliding off him, I patted his neck.  “It won’t be like that, trust me.  I don’t have any metal for a bit.”  I worked for the rest of the day on it, using a concept similar to the charms each of the wolves had.  In the end, I had a silvery halter with reins, soft and supple, and not a piece of metal on it.  The next day, I had to convince Yahn to hold still while I put it on.
            “Damn it Yahn, hold still!”  I had managed to get it on his nose, but he threw his head around, preventing me from putting it on his ears.  Finally I yanked it off his nose and threw it at him, storming off to calm down. 
            When I came back, it was to a comical sight.  When I had thrown the halter, it had landed around his ears, and instead of shaking it off, he had simply lain down that way.  I walked up to him and laid a hand on his neck.  “Please Yahn, let me try it.  If you don’t like it, that’s fine, we’ll get rid of it.”  He looked at me and rolled his eyes before getting to his feet.
            ‘Fine.’
            I got the halter on him, then climbed back on his back from the stump.
            ‘You’re still sitting all wrong.  Haven’t you ever ridden before?’  He said this with exasperation.
            “Of course I’ve ridden before,” I retorted.  “I’ve just never ridden a talking horse, and I’ve always ridden with a saddle.  I’m sure I could find one for you if you really wanted me to be half decent?  Maybe you’re just not used to carrying people on your back!”
            That quieted him for a bit, but not before he answered me.  ‘No saddles.  You want a saddle, go find yourself a packhorse.  I’m already lowering myself to have you on my back.’
            The next day we made more progress, but not without him trying to throw me several times.  Some of them, he succeeded.  By the end of the week every muscle protested my movements, but Yahn no longer tried to throw me and I had learned to ride him without pinching or pulling the wrong way.  By the end of the third week, I could ride and use my legs and body to tell Yahn where I wanted to go, and the halter was no longer needed, much to Yahn’s relief.  Yahn himself wasn’t quite as testy as the first day, and he seemed to be warming up to us.  At least, he no longer complained every time I called him by the name I had given him.  He still had told us nothing of himself, or his true name, but I let him keep that decision and did not bother him about it.
            By the middle of the fourth week, Yahn declared that I was as good a rider as he could make me, and that he was getting bored.  I took two days to get stocked up on food and dried meat, and to say my goodbyes.  There had been many times where I had felt eyes upon me from the trees, and I gave a silent thanks that they had chosen not to bother us.  But the morning of the last day I had an encounter that somewhat unnerved me.
            Not far from the grove was a shallow pool fit for bathing, especially when one knew how to warm the water through magic.  I was in the middle of washing my hair when I felt the eyes again, and looked up to meet the gaze of a surface elf across the pool.  He made no move towards me, nor I him, and we held the look for several minutes.  When Solitude came up beside me, I looked at him, and when I looked back for the elf, he was gone.
            ‘Shadow I have to tell you something,’ Solitude said.  I looked up back to him, somewhat surprised.  Solitude was shy, and always hung on the edge of the wolf pack, rarely speaking.  ‘I’m staying here when you leave.’
            I reached over and stroked his neck.  “Why?”
            ‘Because I found a mate, and another pack.’
            Chuckling, I reassured him.  “Good for you!  Are you going to say goodbye to the rest of the pack before we go?”
            He looked shyly at the ground before answering.  ‘Yes I suppose they would like that...’  He trailed off uncertainly.
            “Of course they would!  And Solitude,”  I paused to look in his eyes.  “If you ever need me, you know how to reach me.  I wish you good luck with your new family and mate.  Now why don’t you go back and tell them, I’ll be there in a minute.”  He nodded his thanks at me, then turned and walked back the grove. 
            I stood up and shook my hair out, using magic to dry it, then walked around to the other side of the pool to where the elf had been.  I stood in the same spot he had been standing, and closed my eyes and expanded my consciousness, finding my answer only a few yards away.  I looked at the lower branches of the tree next to me, then vaulted lightly up into it.  After climbing up a few branches, I turned to what I had felt, and there was the elf, looking back at me, seeming a little startled that I had found his hiding spot.  “I assume you wouldn’t have let me see you if you hadn’t wanted me to, although from the look on your face, you didn’t expect me to find you here.  I am also assuming that it’s been your eyes I’ve felt on us for the past weeks, always watching but never harming, so you must have decided I was no threat.”  I told him.  “So you should be pleased to know that we’re leaving tomorrow, with the exception of one wolf who is moving on to a mate and another pack.  And if you harm a hair on his head just because he was traveling with me, I will hunt you down and kill you like the wolves I run with would.  Understand?”
            He seemed momentarily taken aback, then said something in a foreign tongue.  I shook my head to tell him I didn’t know what he was saying, and he looked thoughtful.  “You do not know the language of your own race?  You puzzle us still more, drow, even with the words you just uttered.  Yes, I understand.”
            I nodded at him.  “Good.  Stay and watch, I care not.”  With that, I dropped from my tree to land softly on the ground, and made my way back to where everyone was gathered and ready.  I put the bags on Longstride’s back, for Yahn refused to carry them, then hugged Solitude once more before jumping on Yahn’s back.  We made our way out of the grove, and I turned once to see Solitude sitting on the edge of the clearing, a soft grey female sitting by his side.  Facing forward once more, I grasped my pendant and reached for the mind I knew was still there by the pool.
            <Remember, elf.>   I felt his humor in my mind, accompanied with a faint surprise that I could talk in his mind, then the acknowledgement that he wouldn’t harm the single wolf that had chosen to stay behind.
            With that, I looked only forward, to the west.  Towards uncertainty, but surrounded by my family.