The Meeting

10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhYK4FX3seQ

Everyone did their best to keep me entertained while I recovered.

Raven kept me company when she could. Shade brought things for me to look at, some of which apparently required a lengthy explanation before I was allowed to touch them. Bone could usually be relied upon to find something worth talking about, and Echo made certain I remained informed about what was happening beyond the entrance of the hut.

For the first few days, I appreciated knowing who had argued with whom, whose hunting trip had gone poorly, and what someone had said that someone else had taken entirely the wrong way.

Eventually, though, I started to recognize the stories.

Sometimes I heard the other side of an argument. Sometimes there was an addition that made the first story's telling considerably less believable. Mostly, though, I found myself listening for footsteps outside and hoping whoever came in might have something new.

I suppose it wasn’t their fault. There was only so much that could happen in a single village while I lay in bed recovering.

Besides, one piece of news held my attention above the rest.

Light wanted to speak with me.

No one had made it sound urgent. I had been assured that he knew I needed to rest, and that the conversation could wait until I was well enough to visit him.

Unfortunately, no one had told me why the chief wanted to speak with me in the first place. That left me with several days to think of the possibilities.

By the time Rain agreed to let me take a short walk through the village, I was more than ready to find out which of them, if any, I had guessed correctly.

I stopped just beyond the doorway, taking a moment to drink in the familiar sights and sounds of the village. Smoke drifted above the huts. Somewhere nearby, a piece of wood split with a sharp crack as an axe came down on it. Two children hurried past along the snow-packed path, arguing over something one of them held against their chest.

I watched them go, wondering whether I would have heard about that later if I’d stayed inside.

The cold met me as I stepped further outside, but it had lost some of its bite. Snow crunched beneath my boots as sunlight warmed my face. Winter still lay deep over the mountain. For the first time, though, I could feel it beginning to loosen its grip.

I drew a deeper breath, only for a familiar irritation to catch in my chest.

I turned aside and coughed into the crook of my arm.

Rain waited beside me.

“Slowly,” he said.

“I’m standing still,” I choked out.

“I meant your breathing.”

“Right.”

When the coughing subsided, I straightened.

“Light’s hut?” I asked with a heavy breath.

Rain studied me for a moment. “If that’s where you want to go.”

“I think I've kept him waiting long enough.”

“He knows you’ve been ill.”

“I know. I’d still like to find out what he wants.”

“You could ask him to come to you,” Rain pointed out. “Or have someone carry a message.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I could…”

He waited.

I turned back to him. “But then I’d still be inside.”

His gaze moved briefly toward the doorway behind us.

“Light’s hut,” he finally agreed. “Provided we stop when you need to.”

I nodded and set off before he could add any more conditions to our little outing.

For the first stretch of the path, walking felt pleasant. My legs were stiff, but it was good to finally have somewhere they needed to take me.

I stepped around a patch of snow worn slick by passing boots and listened to the sounds of people working beyond the nearest huts.

Rain stayed close.

When the path narrowed, he dropped behind me, then he'd return to my side as soon as there was room.

“You know, you don’t have to hover quite so much,” I commented.

“I’m walking beside you.”

“Very carefully.”

“It’s slippery.”

I glanced at him.

His eyes remained fixed straight ahead.

A little farther on, I shortened my steps. The path sloped gently downhill, but even with that in my favor, I was beginning to feel the walk.

Rain slowed beside me without comment.

By the time we reached a large stack of firewood, I was breathing through my mouth.

“There’s a place to sit,” he said.

I looked at the chopping block beside the stack. For a moment, I considered how much farther it was to Light’s hut.

Then I sat.

Rain waited while I rested my forearms on my knees. Frustration quietly gnawed at me. It felt like we hadn’t gone far enough for my legs to feel as tired as they did.

“This is irritating,” I muttered.

“I imagine it is,” Rain responded.

I glanced up. There was no amusement in his face.

After a moment, he leaned against the woodpile, letting his gaze settle somewhere on the other side of the path.

“It feels strange to not hear you say it, for once…” he eventually said.

“What?” I asked.

“That you feel fine. You used to say that whenever I'd check on you.”

My eyes dropped to my hands. “I usually did.”

“I know you thought so…”

Something in his voice made me look back up at him again.

Rain stared at the ground in front of his feet, his fingers laced in front of his chest as his good eye seemed to stare into a distant memory.

“This kind of situation is exactly why I was so worried,” he continued. “You felt well enough, so you didn’t see why I wanted you to rest. Or why I needed to keep checking in.”

I shifted on the block. “I didn’t have Winter Lung then.”

“No. But you were recovering from something that nearly killed you. And after you left Storm’s hut, you were exhausted. I kept telling you that you needed to rest.”

I remembered.

At the time, there were other things on my mind, some I'd felt the need to deal with more urgently than others. Cleaning the hut. Searching for answers. Getting myself back home. Faced with all of that, rest had seemed like something I could manage later.

Then I thought about the Shifting Place, my human body lying motionless in a hospital bed, and the things the doctor had said to my grandparents.

Severe hypothermia. My heart had stopped. My brain hadn't been receiving enough oxygen. The tests they had done showed significant injury.

As I sat there, trying to catch my breath, I couldn't help but wonder how many of those complications Thorn's body also had to endure, and if I had unknowingly made things worse by pushing myself. Perhaps that would explain why I hadn’t figured out the whole shapeshifting thing yet.

“I thought you were just worrying too much,” I admitted.

“Perhaps there were times I did,” Rain stated. “But I am a healer. It's what I do.”

A faint smile tugged at my mouth, but it faded before I could find anything to say.

I’d had plenty of time to think over the past few days. Plenty of time to notice how often someone checked the fire, brought me water, or woke when my coughing got bad.

Rain had been doing those things long before I’d learned to appreciate them.

“I wasn’t trying to make things difficult for you,” I told him.

“I know.”

“I still did, though.” I rubbed my palms over my knees. “I kept telling you I was fine, then getting annoyed when you wanted to check for yourself. Though, I suppose I didn’t give you much reason to trust my judgment.”

“You weren’t always very convincing.”

“No, I suppose I wasn’t.”

Somewhere behind the nearest hut, someone called for another armful of wood. Rain waited, giving me room to finish.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “You were only trying to help. I should have listened.”

His expression softened. “I would have preferred that.”

The answer pulled a small laugh from me.

It also started another cough.

I bent forward, pressing my arm against my mouth until it passed. When I straightened, Rain offered me a waterskin that hung from his hip.

I accepted it and took a few careful swallows.

“Thank you.”

For a while, we stayed where we were. I waited until my breathing settled, and the ache in my chest gradually eased.

“Ready?” Rain asked, glancing up the path.

I thought about it as I followed his gaze.

“Another moment.”

He nodded then settled back against the woodpile. This time, though, I caught the slightest curve at the corner of his mouth.

“Does this mean you’ll finally start taking my advice more seriously?” he asked.

A small, knowing smile tugged at the corners of my own mouth as I thought about it.

“Probably not.”

Rain let out an airy sigh, but his expression didn't waver.

When we started walking again, he let me set the pace. I chose one that was considerably less ambitious than before.

We had nearly reached the next cluster of huts when a man coming down the path slowed at the sight of us. He carried a bundle of leather over one shoulder, and there was something familiar about his face, though I couldn’t immediately place it.

“Thorn?”

I stopped.

His gaze passed over the furs around my shoulders before settling on my face.

“Good to see you up,” he stated

“Good to be up,” I said.

He smiled, but it faded when I turned aside to cough. It was only a short bout, but when I looked back, he was watching me much more closely.

“Bone wasn’t exaggerating, then.”

My ears shifted back. “Depends on what he said.”

“That you’ve been laid up with Winter Lung.”

“Oh.” I cleared my throat. “That part was true.”

The man adjusted the bundle on his shoulder. “You were with us on the last stretch up.”

I looked at him a little bit more closely.

Through the snow, most of the people I’d helped had been little more than hunched shapes beneath heavy furs. I remembered hands reaching for packs, feet slipping on the path, voices that were difficult to hear over the wind.

“I might have been,” I said. “It was hard to see much of anyone through the storm.”

“You took a pack from me. Said I looked like I was about to fall over.”

That sounded familiar. “Were you?”

“Probably.”

I smiled.

He didn’t quite return it. “Wouldn’t have handed it over if I’d known you were ill.”

“I didn’t think I was that ill.”

Beside me, Rain remained remarkably quiet. I resisted the urge to look at him.

The hunter shifted his weight, glancing briefly toward the huts farther up the path.

Then he turned to me and nodded.

“Well. I’m glad you’re still here.”

The simple way he said it left me without an immediate answer.

“Thank you,” I managed.

He nodded again, then stepped aside to let us pass.

Further down the path, a woman carrying a shallow basket emerged from a hut ahead of us. She greeted Rain, then looked toward me.

“Out at last?” she asked.

“Apparently,” I said.

“About time you had some fresh air.”

Hearing her say that, she might have been my favorite person in the village.

Then she added, “Though you look as if you could use a seat.”

I offered a polite smile. “I’ve just had one.”

“Well, there’s another here if you need it.” she stated, nodding towards a bench beside the hut's entrance.

I thanked her, and we continued on our way before Rain could decide I should accept.

By the time we reached the main path through the village, I had received another greeting, an offer of something warm to drink, and a request that I tell Raven someone had set aside a piece of hide for her.

None of it was particularly unusual on its own.

Together, it was enough to make me wonder whether I had something on my face.

People had spoken to me before. I had worked with them, passed them along the paths, sat among them at meals. But I was used to being the one who nodded first. Used to being met with a pause before someone responded to something I'd said, or receiving glance that lingered a little too long.

Now?

An elk therian called to me from across the path just to ask how I was feeling.

I told him I was improving. Rain didn’t correct me, which I chose to take as encouragement.

I came to a stop at the edge of the path and looked out over the huts below.

It was strange to see the village carrying on so normally. The storm had left deep snow along the walls and heavy white ridges on the roofs, but the paths were open. Fires were burning. Children rolled around in the snow while everyone else carried on with their usual tasks.

For days, I'd only ever gotten to catch glimpses of it from the threshold of the hut's entrance.

Now, I'd found myself being included in it.

“Too much?” Rain asked.

I shook my head. “Just trying to work out why everyone’s being so nice.”

His brow furrowed. “Does that bother you?”

“No…” I thought about it a bit more. “I don’t know.”

He followed my gaze toward the village.

“Some of them came home expecting to rest for a day or two, then complain about the walk afterward. Then they learned you were still in bed.” Rain turned toward me. “You helped them while you could. They can be grateful for that.”

I rubbed at the back of my neck. There wasn’t much I could say without coming across as a total jerk that couldn't accept people's thanks.

“All right,” I murmured.

When we continued, Light’s hut was close enough that I could make out the packed snow around the entrance. My eyes fixed onto the doorway as we approached.

Whatever he wanted from me, I was finally about to find out.

Rain lengthened his strides, moving ahead of me and calling inside.

Light’s answer came a moment later.

“Come in.”

Warmth met us as we stepped through the doorway and I paused to let my eyes adjust. I spotted Storm seated near the fire, his gaze attentive and difficult to read as it settled over me.

Light sat a short distance away, setting  aside a bone needle he'd been working through a portion of the massive white pelt that he typically wore and rose to his feet.

“David.”

Hearing my name from him drew my attention.

I dipped my head respectfully towards him. “Sorry it took me so long.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” He gestured towards an open space across from where he'd been seated. “Sit.”

It felt like I'd been hearing that word a lot lately.

This time, I obeyed before anyone felt the need to repeat it.

Rain remained standing near the doorway as I settled near the fire.

“He needs to rest before walking back,” he said.

Light glanced at him. “I’ll see to it that he does.”

Rain nodded once and pushed the hide covering the doorway aside.

“I’ll check on you later,” he said to me.

I smirked. “I assumed you would.”

Rain shook his head, though I caught a glimpse of the small smile that remained on his face as he slipped back outside.

Light waited until the hide had fallen back into place and Rain’s footsteps had faded away into the village before he finally started to address me.

“I hear you gave quite a few people cause for concern.”

I dropped my gaze.

So that was how this conversation was going to begin.

“Yes,” I admitted. “Though I didn’t exactly mean to.”

“Then perhaps you can explain why you went out into the storm when you were already ill.”

I shifted a little closer to the fire, buying myself a moment.

“The horn sounded,” I said, “They needed help.”

Light waited, his expression flat and completely unreadable.

“I thought it was just a cough,” I continued. “I was able to work that morning. I didn’t think just walking up and down the path would make it worse.”

“And when it did become worse?”

“There was still more to carry.” I heard the problem with that answer as soon as I said it. “I kept thinking I could manage one more trip.”

Light regarded me for a moment, his icy blue eyes searching my face as he drifted towards the other side of the firepit.

“I believe you,” he said. “I also believe there are several people who wish you’d stopped sooner.”

I nodded in acknowledgement. “Yes, I’m beginning to hear about that.”

“Good. Then I needn’t repeat all of it.”

The warmth that carried in his voice made me look up.

“We needed help bringing our hunters home,” Light stated, lowering himself onto the floor across from me. “You heard the call and answered it, and you pushed yourself to keep going for as long as you possibly could. I haven't seen very many people show such dedication to this tribe in years.”

I stared at him.

Whatever I’d expected him to say, it hadn’t been that.

“I mostly just carried things,” I said with a shrug.

“For people who could barely carry themselves.”

“Anyone could have done that.”

“Many did,” Light pointed out. “I’m talking about you.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the edges of Storm’s beard shift with a small smile.

Light leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.

“The hunters told me what happened on the path. So did Bone. You made a difficult return easier for people who were already nearing the end of their strength, even as your own strength was failing.”

I looked toward the fire.

I could remember how heavy some of those packs had felt. How relieved I’d been whenever someone took one from me before I turned around and went back out.

There had always been another load waiting. Another person who needed help.

If only I'd taken the time to consider that I'd needed help, too.

“I wish I’d realized how bad it was getting,” I confessed.

“So do I.”

I glanced back at him.

“When help is needed, I want people to be willing to give it,” Light said. “But I also want them to be able to come home afterward. You have people waiting for you.”

Raven’s face flashed through my mind. Then Shade’s.

“I know.”

Light studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Good.”

He reached for a piece of wood from the pile beside him and laid it over the fire, sending sparks rising into the air between us.

“The storm is only part of what I wanted to discuss,” he continued. “When we first spoke, you were afraid of what might happen if anyone learned the truth about you. You didn't know this tribe or the body of the therian you inhabited, and you feared that you were too strange or dangerous to us to remain. You’ve had a great deal to learn since then.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” I remarked.

“Do you remember what I told you before you left here that first night?”

“About letting my actions speak for me?”

Light nodded. “I’ve been listening. So have other people, from the sounds of it.”

I looked down, remembering the hunter who had stopped us on the path.

There were multiple things I could have said about that. About how often I’d been confronted by someone who doubted the intention behind my actions. How difficult it had been to settle into anything before a new problem cropped up, all while wondering if I'd be able to maintain whatever life I was managing to build for myself.

“I didn’t really know what else to do,” I eventually said.

“You could have isolated yourself…”

Light's statement made me lift my head.

“You could have decided to withdraw from the tribe and refuse to be a part of it,” he continued, “But instead you chose to work beside Bone. You’ve cared for Shade. And when the horn sounded, you set your own discomfort aside to help bring our people home.”

He gave me a moment to sit with that before he spoke again.

“Most of the village still calls you Thorn. They see what you do, and they attach his name to it. I understand why. We haven't given them any reason to think otherwise. But I know who’s really been doing those things.”

The fire cracked softly and I found myself sitting very still.

“You’ve carried his name because it helped keep you safe,” Light added. “But I think it’s time we gave you the chance to choose one of your own.”

For a few seconds, I wasn’t sure I’d understood him.

“A new name?”

He nodded. “If you want one.”

My gaze moved over to Storm.

He watched me with a patient expression, looking completely unsurprised.

“How?” I asked.

“All of our far-hunters have returned. Once everyone has had time to rest, we’ll hold the festival to welcome them home.” Light’s face broke into a smile. “I would like to include a naming ceremony for you.”

I blinked. “In front of everyone?”

“That is generally where we hold them.”

I let out a breath that was almost a laugh.

I had spent so much time learning to answer to Thorn that the thought of hearing something else around the village felt strange.

Stranger still was the idea that I might be allowed to decide what it would be.

“What would you tell them?”

“That I’ve seen changes in you worthy of recognition. That the name Thorn no longer suits the man who carries it.” Light glanced briefly over at Storm. “Your secret will remain safe with us.”

I lowered my eyes again.

A ceremony. People watching. A name spoken aloud for everyone to hear, then used afterward as though it had always belonged to me.

“And I’d get to choose it?” I asked.

“You can,” Light said. “Or I can give you one personally, if you aren't able to think of one.”

I looked back at him.

For the first time since I’d heard that he wanted to speak with me, I wished I’d known what was coming. I might have spent those days thinking of an answer.

“What about my name?” I asked. “The one I already have. What happens to that?”

It felt like an odd question after spending so long wishing people would use it. Now I was being offered something I could answer to openly, and part of me was reluctant to accept it.

Light nodded to me. “You keep it. Those closest to you may still use it, and you may decide who you wish to share it with.”

Some of the tightness eased from my shoulders.

“Then why do I need another one?”

“Because you’ll meet people who have never heard a name like yours. People from this tribe, as well as others.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “David Willoughby means something to you. It comes from your family and your home. It belongs to you. I have no reason to take it, but you would have to explain those things before anyone here could begin to understand it.”

I tried to imagine trying to explain a surname to Shade.

That conversation could probably fill an afternoon.

“A name of this world will allow us to introduce you properly,” Light said. “Something people can carry to another village without needing your whole story to go with it.”

I frowned slightly. “I suppose Thorn’s name has already been doing that.”

“Yes, but you shouldn’t have to keep introducing yourself as him. This is an offer, David. You'll have time to consider it.”

For a moment, none of us spoke.

“So how do I choose?” I eventually asked.

Light rested his forearms on his knees, giving the question his full attention.

“There are two parts to consider. The name people will use each day, and the title you carry with it.”

“Kind of like Rain?” I asked.

Light nodded. “He is Rain Who Comes On Swift Legs.”

“I’ve heard him be called Swift Legs.”

“By Blaze, I imagine. Rain is the name most people use. His full name has its place at gatherings, formal introductions, and occasions such as the ceremony I’m offering you. You’ll want to consider at least the first part of yours.”

I nodded slowly. “What about the second?”

Light’s expression softened.

“I'll be the one who chooses that for you,” he stated, “Unless there is someone who you trust enough to bestow a title that is fitting.”

I thought back to hearing Thorn and Blaze call Rain ‘Swift Legs’ again. I’d assumed it was just a nickname. Until now, I hadn’t realized it came from something longer, or that everyone else also had a title I’d yet to hear.

“When do I have to decide?” I asked.

“Before the festival would be helpful,” Light replied.

There was enough amusement in his voice to draw a smile from me.

“I think I might already have an idea.”

Light raised a brow. “Oh?”

I shifted slightly. “Thorn suggested something.”

Storm's posture straightened and he leaned forward. The movement was slight, but it brought my eyes to his.

“When did he suggest it?” he asked.

I paused.

For a few moments, I’d almost forgotten how strange that sentence must have sounded.

“When I was still seriously ill with Winter Lung,” I replied.

Light went still as his eyes veered toward Storm, then back at me.

“You've spoken with him?” he asked.

I nodded.

For a moment, the two of them remained silent, exchanging a look as they seemed to wonder what to make of what I'd said.

“Do you remember what we discussed?” Storm asked. “About where his spirit had gone?”

I nodded again. “He's in the Shifting Place.”

“So you know?”

“I was there.” I stated. “I was so weak that my spirit nearly let go.”

Storm’s gaze remained steady. “What did you see?”

“My grandparents’ home.” I answered. “It was dark. Empty, at first. Then Thorn appeared.”

I could still see him as he emerged from the darkened living room. The dullness of his eyes when they'd met mine. The way he'd looked around the cabin with quiet curiosity. Of all the things I’d expected to find when I walked through the door of the cabin, he would never have made the list.

“He knew where we were,” I said. “And he'd thought about it enough to know where he could find me.”

Storm clasped his hands together. “Did he speak freely with you?”

“Yes. We talked about what happened at the lake, and why he let me come here.” I rubbed a hand over my mouth, gathering my thoughts. “There was a lot. I’m still trying to process some of it.”

“You needn’t tell us everything today. I'm very interested in discussing your experiences, though.” He studied me for another moment. “Did your meeting with Thorn help you?”

My eyes dropped to the fire.

I thought of Grandma. Of everything I had wanted her or Thorn to decide for me, and what they had given me instead.

“Yes,” I eventually replied. “I think it did.”

Storm nodded.

Light allowed the silence to linger between us momentarily before he spoke again.

“And this name was his suggestion?”

“Mostly,” I said, feeling a little warmth return to my face. “He got the idea from Raven.”

“Did he?”

The interest in his voice made me look up.

“It came up while we were talking,” I explained. “I had no idea I'd be given the chance to be given a new name, or that there’d be a naming ceremony.”

“Perhaps it’s fortunate that you’ve had time to consider it, then.”

I breathed out slowly. “I suppose so.”

Light regarded me for a moment, then nodded, seemingly content with leaving the rest of the story with me.

“Think carefully about whether or not  you wish to carry it,” Light stated, settling back, “When you’ve decided, you can come and tell me the name you’ve chosen.”

I nodded in understanding. “And then you announce it at the festival?”

“Then I introduce you to the tribe.”

I looked up.

The smile that had settled on his face was accepting and full of warmth.

Until then, all I’d been thinking about was what everyone would call me. Light made it sound as though they were finally going to meet me.

I tried to imagine standing beside him with everyone gathered around. Raven would be there. Shade, probably struggling to remain still. Echo and Bone would probably find some way to make me regret looking in their direction.

They would all hear it together.

I found myself smiling in return.

“I’d like that.” 10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqu9EHbhlyX

88.181.249.5

ns88.181.249.5da2