While it may not be a first for old Redmane, it is certainly odd for Agatha-Redmane to be in a hotel room, alone, with a male ... a rather strong and scary male, for that matter. Einsam is massive while in hybrid-lupine form; he easily towers over Redmane by a head and a half. It's all the odder in that for something that looks so monstrous ... he's actually completely a gentleman when alone with Redmane.

Well, if you consider a gentleman someone who is currently licking along the face of a woman (albeit a wolf woman), with long, slow, licks. It's actually rather sensual as Redmane is rapidly finding out. It's making her feel tingly all over ... and making the fur along her spine rising up, to boot. She's also discovering that up close Einsam does have a rather nice, if musky, scent to him. She has this urge to nuzzle into his neck just to be able to inhale it deeper...

"This is too weird," the woman thinks. She shouldn't be attracted to Einsam, he's her squire. And she was led to believe that wolves.. well.. were seasonal and outside of that just weren't interested. Which means she's still not fully wolf, or.. "Einsam!" she suddenly barks. "How do I smell to you?" she then asks a bit more quietly.

The answer to Redmane's request is a sudden bought of snuffling from Einsam ... and it tickles. "You smell," the new quire remarks after sitting back, "A couple weeks from season. You're beginning to musk a bit to let the alphas know it will be soon ... ish." It's also amazing how Einsam can manage to smirk with a muzzle as he adds.

, "You are in no risk from me, I'm an omega, remember. We are not allowed to seek a mate."

"Weeks? You're sure?" Redmane asks. "Time is different now, so I just want to be certain you're talking about normal days and not true days.."

"And what do you mean Omega's aren't allowed to seek mates?" she then asks. "That's.. silly! Besides, I'm not even in the pack.. er.. not that that matters anyway, because I'll be human again before.. Wait, is everyone going to react to me then? Am I going to be reacting to people?"

"Normal days," Einsam says, "Fourteen passings of the sun and you will be in full heat. In about a week the urge will be to remain in full wolf form until the season begins and passes completely." Einsam's head then tilts a bit to the side as he asks, "Do you seek my attention? You make a point of not being in the pack and therefore, available?"

"I'm just pointing out that.. I don't really agree with all of the pack traditions," Redmane says. "So, one week. Any longer than that and I'll have hide in a cave or something. The priestess didn't mention that.. nor did Cerridwen.. Still.. Thomas will tease me about it somehow. Or will he get all growly? How exactly does this effect males who at least think they are Alphas?"

"You must have been ... close to a normal human cycle when you were changed," Einsam offers. "As for alphas, some may try to court you. If any have a specific claim, they may get defensive," Einsam notes, "And ... more attentive."

"Hmmm," Redmane ponders, stroking at her muzzle fur in search of sticky spots. "I could just claim that Lord Thomas is my mate, couldn't I? Would I need his scent on me or anything?"

Redmane's muzzle is free of sticky liquids. "You would need his scent," Einsam agrees. "Which would be easy to get if you can get him to mate with you."

"Wait, what?" Redmane asks. "Mate with me? Not just.. rub against me or anything? I'm pretty sure it would take more than smelling pretty to convince him of that!"

"Well, you need scents from specific areas," Einsam explains. "And if you are worried about others noticing, there is a simple solution to the problem that will work for a week or so."

"Oh, perfume?" Redmane asks, sounding a bit relieved. Although.. the scent thing would work both ways, wouldn't it? Other wolves would know Thomas was her wolf..

"Bathe with mint-tinted soap daily. It will remove the scent oils and mask what little remains pretty well," Einsam says. As for whether Tom would be marked as hers ... since she didn't ask, Einsam can't answer that.

"And.. the smell of mint won't be a big giveaway of what I'm trying to cover up?" Redmane asks, then realizes, "Oh.. it wouldn't matter, would it? Because without the scent, there wouldn't be a reaction, even if people know it's being covered up?"

"Just so," Einsam says, "And those not experienced in our ways wouldn't know at all. I do assume you do not wish the Lord to know."

Redmane has to think about that. "Because he doesn't know about how wolves react to the scent, he wouldn't know about any odd urges he gets, right? But would he question them? I might want to play with him a little first.."

Einsam's furred brow arches at that. "Ah, you wish to test how he feels about you. The beginnings of heat-scent will cause the greatest reaction in ones who already desired you," the squire reasons.

"He was always complimenting me as a wolf before," Redmane notes. "So, if he doesn't react.. then he either knows and is trying to tick me off or else he just really isn't that interested in me.."

"You want him interested in you," Einsam posits. "So ... the old stories were true about you two, then." The large wolf then manages that smirk, then, "If you want to test him, make sure you scent-mark his clothing so that he can't escape your scent. IF his manners change, you'll know."

"But ... that is a dangerous game," Einsam adds. "It is cruel to stir passions, then deny them."

"How do I scent mark his clothing?" Redmane asks, looking bewildered and disturbed at the possible ways that come to mind.

"Rub them against your scent glands, of course," Einsam says, "Don't fey have scent glands too?"

Redmane just.. shrugs. "I have no idea! They sweat all over. Where are wolf scent glands?" she asks.

"Cheeks, paw-pads, base of tail, and genitals," Einsam says with no sound of embarrassment. "As well as urine."

"I'll go with the cheeks and paw-pads," Redmane says. "It's not like I have easy access to his clothes, unless I'm sitting in his lap."

"If you did that, there is chance of a tie," Einsam notes, then shrugs. "You really wish to test him? You are an evil woman."

"You think I'm evil?" Redmane asks. "You haven't spent as much time with Thomas as I have. I am very kind and pleasant! And.. what do you mean a tie? He doesn't wear a tie. I haven't seen anyone in Mirari wear one.."

"When wolves make, they get stuck together for an hour or so," Einsam explains, "You know very little of us. Now, as to the actual matter at hand, do you feel that you are clean enough? Is there anything more you require of me?"

"I don't feel sticky; thank you for the washing and.. everything else," Redmane tells her squire. "I'll try to do the same for you when we travel the other lands of Mirari. Have you ever been outside of December?"

"Well then.. do you have any activities to suggest before I meet with the elders later?" the knight asks. "What is there to do for fun in Abnehmenvolf?"

"There is hunting, of course," Einsam explains, "And wrestling. There is also the circle of stories, if it is still used. As for the elders ... I suggest that you decide what it is you want from them before you meet with them later. You do realize they wish to reward you for your actions past? At least that is what my sister tells me."

"A proper funeral and recognition for Bravil is what I will ask them," Redmane says, crossing her arms. "There is a lot I don't understand about your society still. And.. is wrestling something people watch for entertainment, or participate in?" she asks.

"Both," Einsam says as his ears flick. "Many males use to to prove who is greater than who; a contest of strength to impress the females."

"Oh, some do of course. And some females with males. It isn't completely unheard of that a female will refuse to be mated unless bested," Einsam notes and shrugs.

"Well, anyone who wants a piece of me will have to best me too," Redmane says, with a curt nod of her head. "Not that they'd really get a chance."

"Mm. The Lord, then, I take it? Teasing him is an odd way of showing your choice. But who am I to question, hm? I'm just an Omega," Einsam remarks and pushes himself up to his feet. "If you have no further need of me, may I be excused?"

"I will. Do you wish me to ask the desk to send up some mint soap?" Einsam asks as he heads towards the door.

"You have it stocked?" Redmane asks, and glances at the tub. "And.. are there still hot springs under the temple?"

"Soap is common enough," Einsam claims, "And yes, there still are hot springs. At least there were when I left. I have not checked since my return."

"If they've survived since my last visit, I'm sure they've survived since yours," Redmane notes, and gets up to head back downstairs to the dining room. With any luck, Thomas will still be there, and not out wandering the streets.

Down the pair goes and Einsam splits off from Redmane when they reach the bottom of the stairs.

Den of Wolves
For an inn in a town populated almost entirely by werewolves, it's rather clean and warm. The stone floor, in fact seems to radiate heat. Perhaps warm water piping runs through it in the main entryway to make it feel more cozy. Off to the right is a large dining area complete with several sturdy-looking tables and a sideboard buffet. Just outside of the dining area is the main desk where a bored-looking half-fey/half-lupine girl sits. She looks bored; she's twirling a bit of her mane with one taloned finger.

Redmane goes to the desk girl, and asks, "Pardon me, but do you know where Thomas has gotten off to?"

The wolf girl gets a rather silly grin on her face. "Silver-tail?" she asks, "He went out to explore the town, I believe." Then under her breath, the girl adds, "And some on the town would like to explore him, I wager."

The growl is brief, and Redmane tries to fake a cough to cover it up. "I suppose I'll just have to track him by scent then. But, just in case.. how do I get to the wrestling pit?"

"You know where the temple is, correct? Head towards it and about three streets before it, turn left and walk towards the circle of tales. The pit is to the right of that," the girl explains.

"Thank you!" Redmane says cheerfully, and then heads out into the street. She does try to pick up Thomas' scent while heading towards the Temple.

It's odd, but Redmane somehow knows Thomas scent and picks up on it practically immediately. If it had to be described, it is the smell that comes just after a storm passes. Lingering dampness, bark, moss, and musk. It's unmistakably wild and yet somehow peaceful. Redmane's reaction to it, though, is anything but peaceful, it makes her tingle all over.

This, at least, helps her focus as she tracks down the wayward Lord of Mirari. "He'll be telling stories," she tries to convince herself. "Not showing off.."

Redmane's hope turns out to possibly be right. As she heads in the direction of the circle of tales, she hears a chorus of voices; oos, ahhs, and gasps! coming from the circle. There is also, of course, some noise from the wrestling area too...

The knight tries not to march, or feel prematurely angry. She is a Countess now after all, and has had all sorts of lessons on decorum and walking with pots of water balanced on her head and even - for one tortuous afternoon - walked in heels.

As Redmane approaches the circle, she feels the workings of fey magic coming from it. It's hard to see what is going on there as it is somehow shrouded in fog and mist, with the faint outlines of what appear to be mountains flickering somewhere within. Thomas' scent is also very strong here and that 'tingle' comes right back ... right up to the point a roar from a crowd of wolves somewhere within the mist-filled circle startles her.

"Glamour.. show off," Redmane mutters after she gets her hackles to lay down. Then she heads over to try and see just what Thomas is showing them.

As Redmane steps into the mist, her entire surroundings /change/. She finds herself in rows of seats occupied by fey, wolves, and several in-between. They're all leaning forward, ears and eyes focused on what is going on down in the circle. Instead of a town, Redmane sees craggy mountains, snow and ice. The place is eerily familiar to her and why becomes apparent enough; she can see the Fortress of the /Year

Year's end in the distance./ Thomas is is down in the 'mountains', hanging from the weatherbeaten remains of an old tree. Only ... this Thomas looks like the one she has seen in dreams; fleeting memories of times of old.

Redmane finds a seat, wanting to see if this is from Thomas' first foray into the realm of his nemesis, or the more recent and successful one.

"Beyond the edges of all that was known I went," Thomas explains from where he hangs by one hand and peers off towards the fortress in the distance. "Alone; rejected by the Court as an 'old fool that saw too many enemies hiding in the shadows'," he continues. "It was here that I knew what this place truly was to me. I looked out upon the wastes, the fortress in the distance. I could hear the cries of the Destroyer's beasts; his wraiths, his goblins, and his shades. This would be my final tale. One that I knew then may never be told. I looked upon my destination and I saw the Journey's End."

The knight sits up straight, and perks her ears. Something tickles her brain now. "This is from when he went off on his own! From.. when he left me behind!"

Thomas leaps from his virtual tree and turns to face the audience with his arms spread wide. "Now, while it would have been entertaining to walk up to the main gate and demand a duel, I knew that it would be suicide," he explains to the gathered crowd. "I would not have had the chance to see the so called Lord, I would have been killed by his minions. So ... my path was a simple one, I had to eliminate or otherwise inconvenience the minions before I could assault the fortress..."

From her seat, Redmane watches, and also checks to see how those around her are responding to the tale - and to the glamour.

The others are leaning forward in rapt interest so far. Many hints of what is to come, but no real action yet. Thomas rolls his hand and gestures towards the rocky mountains around him. "Now, from various hiding places I had learned that the minions used a series of caves and tunnels dug throughout these mountains to come and go from the fortress." PRobably to re-enforce this point, he actually walks over to one of the piles of rock and wipes his hand across it. The stone seems to disperse into so much dust and smoke. "Simple tricks hid them, but they could not hide the cool winds that came from their depths, or the wet scents of moss and mold that the tunnels had," he adds. Many of the wolves around Redmane mutter something as they all seem to not or otherwise gesture in some sort of agreement as to how the passages were located.

"I remember those passages, or at least the ones leading from the Icejaw Pit," Redmane thinks, nodding with the others.

Thomas eyes narrow and his lips draw up into a rather feral and evil grin. "Many things lurk in the darkness. Terrible, scary things that will snatch you the moment your back was turned," he says as his voice grows softer and rather harsh. "And this time I would be one of those things. For all the nightmares they visited upon us, I would visit upon them." His body seems to grow indistinct, a sort of hazy, almost wraith-like creature as he steps into the dark passage.

Redmane raises her ears at this. But then, she does recall Thomas tormenting goblins with a similar trick...

The entire scene seems to shift, the mountains rising up .. or the watching group sinking, into their depths. The air feels damp and still. Sounds echo, and the smell of wet earth is overwhelming. The shrill chittering of Goblins echo, from both the 'stage' and areas around the audience! The gathered wolves seem to be a bit nervous themselves with many of them looking over their shoulders when something makes a noise. In the center of the stage a light flares up, an underground campfire with a menagerie of creatures sitting around it and cewing on the charred remains of some poor animal that wandered into their trap.

"They must not get a show like this very often," Redmane thinks, grinning a bit at the audience's reaction. Then she focuses on the figures around the campfire, trying to guess which is Thomas in disguise.

A deep, guttural laugh echoes around the group, indistinct and hard to pinpoint. The chatter abruptly stops and they all begin to look around frantically. "Ey, what dat?" one of them grunts to the others, "Dis be our home, no one intrudes on us."

"Eh, probably Gurt havin' gas problems again," one of the others explains and spits out a rather disturbing chunk of meat onto the ground. "I'll go kick 'em," it adds as it gets to its feet, then shuffles off into the darkness.

Redmane actually blinks in surprise. Thomas is luring them out, and not making a bold entrance? "He must have been taking this extremely seriously," she thinks.

The crackle of the fire is suddenly broken by a strained, gurgling cry! The others leap to their feet and all grab for their battered weaponry; an old axe, a bent sword, and numerous rusty daggers. "Ey, whomever you are," one calls out, "Dis be our home an' you about to be very dead!"

Silence falls all around Redmane as the wolves go quiet. Some seem to slink down as if trying to hide.

"Are they sympathizing with the creatures, or reacting to something else?" she wonders, and tries to listen to her own body more closely for cues.

All around the group, Redmane included, the shadows seem to move! A rock rolls here, something crackles over there. It's all impossibly quick. The creatures in the center of the stage spin and wave their weapons in the direction the next sound comes. So far, though, nothing seems to make its appearance. It's then Redmane feels something brush across the back of her neck!

Fur standing up just before she does, the wolf-woman hops up and lets out a canine yelp!

And all hell breaks loose down on the stage! A blurred shadow shoots through the gathered goblins and two topple over in a spray of blood and entrails. Then again from a different angle, then again! Each time the goblins try to reorient their defenses, the shadow comes from behind. One by one they're cut down ... and the grim laugh returns. Only one goblin remains standing, clutching its axe to its chest and has its back to the campfire. "I ain't afraid o' you!" it tells at the darkness. "We serve the greatest Lord! He rules the dark!"

After she recovers from the neck-brush, Redmane gapes at the carnage. Thomas on a killing spree?

"Not for much longer," the voice tells the creature. The cave seems to shift around the goblin, taking on the shape of the fortress they defend ... only it lies in ruin. The goblin screams and runs from its campsite, fleeing back into the tunnels. The images fade, returning to the remains of the fallen goblins. A shape walks out of the shadows, indistinct still. "All your kind did on the battlefield by rights says you deserve less consideration," he tells the corpses, "But you will receive a proper burial anyway." As the scene fades, the shadow of a man is going about retrieving the bodies and taking them off to some unknown graveyard.

"You really were at the end of your rope when you did this," Redmane mutters, sitting back down. She can't imagine the Thomas she knows and remembers doing things like this.

The images shift again. A myriad of events unfold beneath the soil. More hunting and terrorizing of the servants of the Destroyer. Sabotage of tunnels so that they collapsed and cut off convenient routes, to even punctures and flooding of major caverns. It's hard to judge the time, but it must have been a Month of the old time, at least. The scene seems to stabilize back above ground, in a campsite nestled in a shallow cave in the mountain. A haggard and thin Thomas sits with his legs drawn up and a small crystal orb resting in his palm. "Time draws short for me, I fear," he tells the crystal, "The hunter is becoming the hunted. I have diminished their numbers, but they are growing wise. They have brought in wraiths and worse now to hunt me. I know many would condemn my actions ... but they have not lived through the horrors they brought upon us. I only wish to see it end. I also hope that you can forgive me for everything. I was never a perfect man, but I always tried to do what was neede

needed for the greater good. I hope that historie will show that ..." There's a snap of a branch in the distance and Thomas' head jerks up.

"All that time.. he was still causing mayhem after I was gone, probably," Redmane realizes.

"Perhaps the final hunt," Thomas murmurs to his crystal and then tucks it away into a tattered pocket. He's up to his feet like lightning and darts out of the cave. His body begins to blur once more, making it hard to tell precisely where he is. The howl of several great beasts cut through the night air on that mountain top. Like the shadows he pretended to be, even greater ones are now hunting him. Thomas dashes with amazing balance through the craggy mountain trails as what seems like chaos itself closing on his heels.

Redmane watches in awe.. but has to wonder about the toll using that much glamour must have taken. It's one of those things that, despite living with glamour users for years and Years, she never thought to actually research.

It's obvious it's the glamour that keeps Thomas alive. He was never a skilled fighter in the classic way, he used glamour to make up for it b making it hard to pinpoint exactly where he is at any one moment. Some of the shadow creatures fall to the swipe of a blade, then some goblins, as the chase continues through the mountain top. In time, though, the blur lessees and his speed begins to falter. He's tiring out ... and there still seems to be an endless supply hunting him. Thomas leaps and barely manages to catch onto a edge and pull himself up and over. There he collapses, gasping for breath in what may be a short time to rest. Footsteps sound the approach of yet another, only this one comes from the opposite way his pursuers have been.

Thomas rolls to his stomach, then pushes himself upright. He has to use his battered sword as a cane to push himself back to his feet. There's no real strength left in him, that much is apparent, but he is refusing to show any weakness. As he tries to bring his sword to the ready, a figure comes around the corner. Not just any figure, but a woman wearing burnished armor and carrying an ornate sword at her side. If that were not enough to identify who this person is, the fiery red hair that flows down from her head almost like a mane surely does. "You are a hard man to find, Lord Thomas," the woman, seemingly Redmane, says to him in an exact replica of her voice. Her face is stern and unforgiving for a moment, then a smile seems to creep across her face as she offers one of her armored hands to him. "But as you have told me often, I'm stubborn. You can't leave me that easily."

"He couldn't have done that!" Redmane thinks, standing up again. "That's why he came after me and Ahearn? Just to get to Thomas?" she mutters out loud, and then angrily shouts, "It's not ME! Don't trust her, Thomas!"

The Thomas on the stage doesn't seem to hear. He reaches out and takes ahold of her hand, steadying himself for a moment, before drawing the woman into an embrace. "I trusted you more than anyone," he can somehow be heard whispering to her. "But I could not ask to give up all you had earned to go on some fools errand with me. I knew I would die here, Muirren."

"It's.. not.." Redmane says, sitting back down hard. "You should have asked me anyway," she ends up whispering.

And you were right," The Redmane on the stage whispers to him. There's a sickening sound of flesh and bone being cut and torn. Clasp in her right hand is the hilt of a dagger; its blade now buried deep into the lower left of his back. That kind smile on her face grows cold and she twists it. Thomas' legs buckle and he drops to his knees as a crimson stain slowly spreads out from the deep wound in his back.

"Damn it all," Redmane cries, not wanting to watch.. but not able to stop. "Does he even know I'm watching?" she wonders.

"No iron," Thomas says, his voice hoarse and tired. "I should have known, I should have realized when I could not feel ... " His voice trails off there as his eyes go to the blade at her side. Had she been true, the fey would have felt the heat of her legendary weapon. Thomas eyes close and he laughs, soft, sad, and defeated.

The being that looked like Redmane twists and deforms, leaving behind a rather nasty-looking witch-like creature that stands over him. "Love for another is always a weakness. Exhaust you and you would walk right into the trap the Lord said. I see he was right" she rasps as she crouches down to cup the fey's chin and lift it. "So how does it feel to have failed?"

Thomas eyes open and a tired, yet still defiant, smile returns to his face. "I haven't failed yet," he says simply. With what may be the last of his strength he grabs one of the coils of rope that dangles around his waist. He wraps it around the creature's neck ... then shoves it away from him ... and lets himself fall over the edge of the trail he is on. His tired body bangs and thrashes against the rocky side as he goes sliding downward ... but the crone ... well, its neck is used to slow his fall. There's an audible snap when the rope goes taut. Thomas lands with a thud on a small edge some hundred feet below. There he lies, looking up at the starlit sky. The breathing from his broken body is shallow and slow.

"Enough," Redmane thinks.. or just decides, and starts making her way by feel down to Thomas, trying not to jostle any wolves or trip over anything hidden in the glamour.

"It's over, child of November," a chorus of voices call from the path above. The shadows that were hunting him appear at the edge of the path he fell from. A mix of goblins, wraiths, and other assorted nightmares. "You think you have escaped us? Your death only serves us, for when you die, you will not be in consecrated ground. You will be taken into His service. He has great plans for you as a Wraith; think of what your knowledge and skill would afford him."

It's actually hard to get through the other wolves as well as make it carefully over things obscured by the glamour. It's going to be several minutes for Redmane to reach the stage at the pace she is going.

And now, of course, the were-wolf is grabbing for the hilt of her sword.. which isn't there, but back in the room. She's stubborn though, and not thinking terribly clearly anyway as she continues on.

"Do you ever look at the sky? The stars above us?" Thomas asks the creatures above, his voice cracking and blurred by the soft wind that flows now. "They're beautiful; like fragments of ice suspended in the heavens. There is beauty in the world all around us that so few people ever see. Even here not all is gray and dead. I loved these lands and its people. Such infinite possibility. I dreamed that I would walk them forever. But ... I guess even dreams end someday. Have you ever wondered what is beyond this world? The stories of the realms of the mortals? I hoped to see those one day too."

"Make way," Redmane grumbles whenever she runs into a seated wolf. All she can think of is that she has to rescue Thomas, somehow!

"Pointless babble," one of the wraiths says as Redmane moves ever closer to the stage. The other wolves are so focused on what is going on they barely notice her. Well, except the one she runs into! He swats her side and goes "Sssh!"

Redmane almost snaps at the swat, but doesn't have time for minor annoyances. She goes around and keeps working her way forward.

Somehow Thomas seems to find the strength to sit upright. Though shaking he holds out his arms and cranes his head back. He looks at the stars once more, those green eyes reflecting their light ... and he smiles. "The court told me I needed to let go," he says, "Maybe they were right." His eyes close and silence falls. A faint blue begins to creep across his body, outlining it in the night.

"Fey magic! one of the wraiths hisses, "Kill him now!" A dozen bows are draw, arrows notched ... then the simultaneous snap of bowstrings sound. Arrows streak down on Thomas ... and tear through him somehow! No blood flows, just ... little gaps left behind in his body. Motes of light float away from those wounds ... as well as from the rest of him.

Redmane now finds herself at the edge of the stage. If she leaps, she could reach Thomas now!

And leap she does, trying to grab at the fleeing motes. "Don't leave me!" she howls!

Redmane lands on what remains of Thomas! It explodes outward in a shower of light; a swirling dance fo what looks like stars fallen to earth. They spin and twirl as they rise skyward, taking on a shape now familiar to Redmane, three circles all crossing over each other. A siege. A siege of the soul? Of the stars? Who really knows. Legends always were thomas was one of the old fey, related to the founders. Perhaps it is magic known only to them. Higher and higher the circle rise ... and soon the are gone. Redmane is left alone on that small outcropping. All that remains of Thomas is some scraps of clothing, an old, battered, sword, and the crystal he had been talking to earlier.

There is silence above for a time. "The Lord will not be pleased," one of the wraiths finally says. There's a grumble of consensus from the creatures above as they shuffle off, leaving Redmane alone on the stage. Everything but that little outcropping of rock she sits on fades away.

Feeling numb, Redmane sits down and tries not to think, just waiting for Thomas to come and break the spell.

The last thing Redmane hears is the sound of a child crying somewhere in the distance. "It's a boy," a faint voice says. "A boy, eh? He looks like a Thomas to me, don't you think, dear?" another voice in the distance adds. Then darkness falls and even the cliff Redmane was perched on disappears. When lights return, the stage is just a stage and all around her Redmane can feel the wolves looking at her is disbelief.

With her senses unclouded now, Redmane sniffs the air, trying to pick up Thomas's scent again.

It's easy to find. He's standing right behind her. "It wasn't your fault, if that is what you're feeling," Thomas says softly to her. "It was mine."

"I was coming after you anyway," Redmane notes without turning. "We could have gone out together instead of.. alone."

"I didn't want you to die," Thomas tells her, "You had a lot to live for still. You had your land and the people you watched out for. You had Ahearn. I ... " He shrugs a bit and says, "Had nothing. Considered a fool by the court; maybe a disgrace. You deserved better."

"That wasn't for you to decide," Redmane says quietly. "You didn't want me to come, because I'd hold you back. You wouldn't have done the things I saw if I was with you, I think."

Even Legends have their faults," Thomas admits to Redmane. Louder to the wolves he says, So many stories have been told of both of us. Rarely do they tell of our failings, though. I guess I want all of you to take from this that we're both real people; just like each of you. We have done amazing things, we have also done things we are not proud of. The good, I hope, outweighs the bad. If you take anything from this tale ... let it be that we were ... are ... real. And that any of you can do great things too; you don't have to be perfect."

"So, why didn't you tell me about how you died before this?" Redmane whispers to Thomas.

"Because I feared you would feel guilty that it was your image that trapped me," Thomas says as he moves to crouch down beside Redmane. He looks over at her .. and his flesh shifts and distends as he returns to his own temporary half-wolf form. "And there are better places to talk then the middle of a stage with half the town watching us."

"Okay," Redmane agrees, standing up again. "I was supposed to do something.." she mutters, her original goal in finding Thomas eluding her for the moment.

The crowd around them finally begin to clap. Apparently they weren't expecting it to be so dramatic, either! Thomas huffs a laugh and waves to the audience, adding, "We'll be here all week! But tonight was a one-night only show, I'm afraid. Living through that twice is two times too many!" That at least ears a small rumble of laughter from those gathered.

"You always manage to escape, don't you?" Redmane asks Thomas, although she's grinning a bit when she says it.

"Hasn't stopped you from continuing to try," Thomas notes to Redmane and even lightly elbows her. "Nowytou're trying to smell attractive too," he adds, then sticks his tongue out at her. "Come on, I want lunch!" He taps her nose, then bounds off the stage!

"Hey.. I'm not trying!" Redmane says, and has to chase after Thomas once more. But in the end, she knows... it'll have to be him catching her if anything is to come of it.