She poked at the food for a long moment, trying to decide just what to do next.  She had never met this man, her uncle of sorts, and yet here he was saying he would support her.  She didn't know him any more than she had known the cart driver or the boy that carried her here.  All of it was so strange, new, scary, and it made her want her mother.  Fighting against tears of longing and abandonment, she finished her meal.  She had thought her parents loved her--her mother had always said as much--and yet here she was with this strange man.  

She watched him stand and take their plates away after they had finished.  He said nothing as he simply did the task of a servant and carried it off back to the kitchen.  She wanted to run, cry, or scream.  Anything to get the tightening in her chest to stop and raise her stomach from the depths it had sunk to.  

Lost in her pain, she didn't hear him return or notice his hold around her until she was already in his arms and pressed tight in an embrace.  "I will never be able to fully replace your mother and father, but I will do what I can if you will let me in to do so."  

His words broke the dam within her and she pressed her face tightly into his shoulder and wept.  Her cry was not that of a child that tripped or was frustrated--it was the deep sobs of loss.  A piece of her was dying this night, and all she had was this stranger to give her support.

His hold was gentle and welcomed as he picked her up and carried her through the house to the room she had woken up in.  

"This will be your chambers."  His voice was gentle, almost loving.

She couldn't bring herself to look.  She didn't want to face the reality of how her life had changed.  A thought crossed her mind that he might force her, as her father had.  Instead, after standing there for a long moment, he simply carried her outside and into the night air.

The breeze felt lovely through the fabric of her clothes and against her body.  It reminded her of her mother's garden, and she imagined that she could smell the sweetness of the flowers there.  Her tears slowed and eventually stopped altogether.  Through it all, he was silent as he held her.  It helped  give her the confidence to finally push off of his shoulder and look at him.  His warm smile greeted her.  There appeared to be no hint of anger at her previous behavior.  

"Better?"  His voice was soft, just above a whisper, and she nodded in response.

His attention moved to the area in front of the house.  "The land we chose is close enough to town that there will be help if we need it, but far enough that we have some semblance of privacy.  You will only be allowed to stay here unsupervised when you can manage to run to town and back in the time it takes to bleed out a deer."  She wasn't thrilled with the idea of ever having to be alone again.  Just the thought of it made the sadness from before echo within her.

Shifting in his arms a bit, she laid her head against his shoulder once more with a little sigh.  "That won't be for some time though.  I assure you."  He said with that same hushed tone as before.

Another swath of silence as they simply stood out in the moonlight together.  Somewhere in the forest a nightwatch bird cawed and clamored, its piercing song carried by the wind.  "Are you ready to go back inside?"  She still couldn't bring herself to reply to his question, choosing instead to shake her head.  Not yet.  

His hold on her loosened as they sat down upon the grass that were spread wide around the front of the house.  Carefully, he moved her so she was cradled in his arms better and said.  "Then we will wait until you are."  

Leaning into his hold, she tried to calm down again and focus on being happy.  

"Have you ever heard the Tale of the Forest Lions?"  His words were soft, almost gentle and she nodded quickly in reply.  "I see...  Would you like to hear it again anyways?"  

She gave him another little nod and felt his arms pull her tighter as he settled them in for a story.  The breeze seemed to shift and swirl around them, coming close like another eager child too entranced with his voice to return to the trees.  

"Back when El walked the land, in a den on a high mountain, lived a family of mountain lions.  A strong father lion with sharp fangs and long claws, could pull down the largest of prey.  A mother lion with the speed and grace of the wind, she could kill before any were aware she was there.  And, together they had three fluffy little kittens."

Slowly her attention moved to his face as she watched him speak.  "One was brown and strong like his father.  One was golden like the dried meadow grasses of summer and seemed keen on following like her mother.  The third was red as the autumn leaves and was the runt of the litter."  His hold on her shifted once more as he continued with the story.  "El came to visit the family one day.  He said he had been watching them and had come bearing gifts.  To the eldest, Batik, he gifted strength greater than that of his father.  To the middle, Aina, he gifted speed her mother could only dream of.  To the last, Droy, he gave nothing."

A twinge of resentment coursed through her at that.  Though she had heard the story countless times, as it was one of her mother's favorites, some parts still bothered her.  Why gift the others something and give nothing to Droy?  

"And so El left them and watched from afar as the kittens grew.  Batik grew and grew until he was the size of a merchant’s cart all loaded with wares.  Aina became long and lithe and seemed to disappear with the wind itself.  Droy never managed to outgrow his father or outrun his mother."

Somewhere in the forest a pack of wolves began howling, and it sent a shiver down her spine.  Telling the story out here was much different than hearing it in her bed before sunrise.  Out here, it was almost as though all the animals were listening as well.  

"Batik, believing himself the new master of the forest, challenged his father for the right to rule. And, though he tried not to kill his father, his strength was too great.  Their mother, lost in her sadness, took to the forest.  Aina went after her but by the time she caught up, it was too late.  Their mother had ran herself off a high cliff and lay dead upon the ground at the bottom."

Another wolf howl, closer this time, pierced the stillness of the night.  She never liked this part of the story.  In her opinion, the parents had never done anything wrong and yet they were dead.  "And so they were three.  Batik ruled the mountain, Aina watched the wind, and Droy did as he was told.  Too weak to challenge, too slow to run, Droy was trapped beneath the might of his siblings.  So he did the only thing he could do, he learned, and made himself the greatest asset for his siblings to lean upon.  He watched his brother destroy wolf pack after wolf pack that dared to test his strength.  He watched his sister run like the wind down her favorite trails."

He fell silent a moment and she waited patiently, eager to hear the rest as it was getting to the best part.  

"Do you remember the rest?"  His hold tightened somewhat as his attention moved to the treeline.  She nodded.  "You tell the rest then."  

Clearing her throat, she started on the rest of it.  "Droy wanted to rule a mountain of his own.  But Batik laughed at him and called him weak.  Droy wanted to hunt on his own but Aina laughed at him and called him slow.  So Droy set a trap for Batik and Aina since he knew he couldn’t kill one unless he killed the other.  So, he went to the wolves and together, they made plans.  For Batik, he trained the wolves to work together and wear him down.  For Aina, he showed them where along the trails that they could surprise her and drive her down into a bog."

His hold on her tightened as he stood.  The howling was closer now and it broke her from her speech as she scanned the treeline.  Glinting eyes of wolves caught the moonlight and made them float between the trees in a ghostly fashion.  

"Keep going."  His voice was strong and confident and it gave her the strength to speak despite her growing fear.  

"The....  The wolves did as they were told.  They out maneuvered Batik, killing and eating him.  They ran Aina out into the bog where she got stuck and drowned.  After his brother and sister were dead, the wolves returned to Droy, eager to kill him too.  They wanted to rule the mountain now."

The wolves moved out from the treeline.  Six or seven members strong, they were a hunting party and seemed to be assessing the situation.  The largest of the pack, the leader perhaps, was missing an eye and part of an ear.  

"But?"  His voice was like a knife through the tension in her body.  

"But Droy had planned for this too.  The night before, he had poisoned his brother.  Those wolves that ate him, were poisoned too.  The wolves that took care of his sister took losses as well since the bog took a few of their members as well.  So the few wolves that came for him were weak."

There was a long moment of silence as both groups stood their ground eyeing one another.  The alpha of the pack looked down the road towards the town, then back to Sasha and Vidar.  With naught but the wind between them, all but the alpha suddenly turned and faded back into the forest.  The alpha wolf stood there, eyeing them, and she felt Vidar give her a squeeze of encouragement to continue with the story.  

"So the wolves pledged loyalty to Droy, and El came to him and said:  ‘You will lead not by strength or speed, but by your mind.  For that is all that separates you from the wolves and death.’"

After she had finished the story, the alpha turned and wandered back into the forest of the night.  The sound of a cart could be heard on the wind, and it managed to pull her attention away from where the wolf had been.  Far in the distance, she saw a horse with a tawny coat pulling a cart towards them.  Though she could not fully see the occupants yet, she could tell that there were two of them.  Squirming in his hold, she strove to be let down.  His hold fought against her a moment before he relented and placed her gently upon the ground.  The cart jumped a moment as it rolled up onto the compacted gravel and sand of the proper road that had been built near the home.  It was clear now that the occupants were a woman and a boy about 14 or so.  No doubt this was the wife and son he had talked about earlier.  

The cart shuddered to a stop.  The woman's eyes caught Sasha’s, and she suddenly felt very small.  But, rather than draw back and hide behind Vidar, she met the woman's gaze and held it, refusing to look away.  

Vidar left her side and offered a hand to the woman.  "Alana, my love, welcome home."  Without skipping a beat, he helped her down from the carriage and pulled the woman into his arms.  

"Belor, put the cart in the stable and unload it.  We will join you shortly."  Alana’s voice was confident and showed clearly her role as a lady of standing.

Without a word, Belor took the reigns and clapped them across the back of the horse.  With a creaking lurch, the cart rolled forward towards the manor.  Sasha didn't watch it go, not while the woman's eyes still held her attention.  The woman’s gaze was unwavering, just like her mother’s had been.  Vidar cleared his throat, beginning to introduce his new charge, but was stopped by Alana’s finger pressed against his lips.  

She watched Alana kneel and felt the woman's hands push her hair back behind her shoulders.  Her fingers pinched Sasha’s shoulders lightly as they adjusted her clothes and tidied her up in a motherly fashion.  

"You look just like your mother, little one."  Alana's voice seemed to drip with sweetness, and she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up.  "I am Alana, and I believe I know why you are here.  Have you chosen to stay?"  The words were pleasant on the ears, but everything about this woman put her on edge, as though every word she spoke was with a poisoned knife behind her back.  

Unwilling to talk to her, Sasha could only bring herself to nod.  The fangs that flashed in Alana's wide smile reminded her of the lions in the tapestries back home.  

She heard the woman stand but didn’t follow her movement, as Sasha’s mind wandered back to remembering the other tapestries hanging in her parents’ halls.  

Vidar's voice filled the air again.  "Come...  I think we could all do with a sipping."  

Alana groaned softly.  "Truly, the blood we packed spoiled last night and I am in dire need."

Vidar's strong arms scooped Sasha up once more without a word.  By the time they had made it to the door, Belor was there to open it for them.  His body was lanky and lithe, as though something was stretching him at either end.  When their eyes met, though, it wasn't like it had been with Alana.  This boy, despite his weak appearance, seemed eager to defend his position in this household.  More than that, there was a sense of knowledge in his eyes.

Then it finally dawned on her, she had a new older brother.  Idly, she wondered if this lanky one was as stupid as the last one.