Slowly, she leaned in against him, accepting, even welcoming the comfort of his arm around her. He was a lynx, perhaps he would understand better than most what had driven her here. "There were six of us, four brothers, two sisters," she explained quietly, wishing she'd had the courage to tell the whole truth to the whole pack. "There weren't many packs on our island, so if a pack wanted to stay pure, they had to inbreed. It backfired." She frowned at that memory. "Only two of us were truly morphic. The others ....one got caught in lynx form, the others were stuck in human form. We were a bit of a disgrace."

He tightened his grip, to show support and concern. With nodding of his head, he encouraged her to tell her tale. With a sigh, he shook his head. "That was not your fault, Frankie." Whether she knew that or not, he reinforced it.

She shook her head, not wanting to believe it. She was the runt, she had no right to Change when her siblings couldn't. But that wasn't the worst of it. "They were ....wild, my human brothers," she went on softly. "They still had the beast in them, but they couldn't let it out at the full moon, the way the rest of us could. They kept secrets, made a pack of their own within the pack. I saw them sneaking home once. There was blood under their nails and around their mouths. They were hunting, like cats, but there was all that human cruelty in them, too." Her head leaned onto his shoulder, slowly accepting more of the comfort he was offering.

As she curled into his shoulder, his other arm wrapped around her. Gently rocking and stroking her hair down her back, he listened. Knowing there to be more of the horrific story she told, he murmured softly words of encouragement.

Frankie was shaking again now, remembering vividly what it had been like in those last months. "They started torturing the human kids our own age," she murmured, horrified. "And then a child was killed. We knew, we all knew the moment they got back to the den that they'd killed. They reeked of death and blood and fear. But they were pack, so the Alpha, he said we had to hide them, get them away. But they killed another child before we could, and the townsfolk tracked them to our den. They strung up two of my brothers like dead meat, trampled my sister before she could escape. And they set fire to the den ..." Her arms snuck around him, and she buried her face in Jared's shoulder, shaking as tears dropped from her eyes in silent terror.

His breathing quickened, feeling the fear and undeniable sadness that accompanied her words. He held her tightly, rocking her gently, but knowing that in the end, it would do no good. Too lost in the memories, too caught up in all of the pain. "Frankie." He was quiet, but firm with his voice. "That is enough, for now." He sighed and rested his chin atop of her head.

Her arms tightened gratefully around him, the tears quick to be suppressed. Cats don't cry, as a rule, nor do they remember. They live in the moment, and if she was to heal, that was what Frankie had to relearn. She lifted her head, wiping her face roughly. "Thank you, Jared," she sniffed. "I didn't mean to upset you, or anything."

When she looked up, his hand raised to gently cradle her cheek in his palm. "I can't say it's a pleasure to hear what you suffered through, but if it's any consolation, I'll listen any time you need somebody to talk to."

Gazing into his eyes, she didn't resist his hand on her cheek, smiling just a little in gratitude. "Thank you." She purred softly, nuzzling her cheek into his palm before gently drawing her face away from his touch. "I should tell the pack ....they have a right to know what?s in my blood."

"Only when you're ready, Frankie. They'll listen to you and I don't think any of them will think any less of you." He nodded and sighed softly.

Her eyes dropped from his, hiding the guilt in them at his words. She hadn't told all, it was too painful. "What about you?" she asked suddenly, sitting back and twisting to face him properly. "You live on the wharves?"

"Well, let's get you something to eat. Do you feel like hunting or would you prefer a stroll through the market and buying it?" He stood with a stretch, then offered his hand down to her. "I could tell you what it's like. But I think you'd learn so much more if you went outside of the den yourself."

Frankie stared at him, glancing to the cave mouth and back to his proffered hand warily. "You mean ....me go out there?" she asked, pointing towards the forest outside.

"Of course." he nodded with a smile. "I'll be right there with you. I promise. Nothing will happen." He continued to hold his hand out to her, steady and strong.

She seemed to think it over for a long time, glancing between him and the world outside. Then her hand slid into his as she rose up to her feet. "You're sure the pack won't mind me going?" she asked him worriedly.

"Of course not. We'll stay close by. They want to see you more confident, Frankie. And we're going to teach you, starting right now." He grasped her hand and led her towards the mouth of the cavern. "Watch this." He let go of her hand and stepped out of the cave, then back in. "Tada!" he grinned, his arms thrown out with a flourish. "See, nothing happened. You try."

She laughed again, a quiet little sound but still a definite laugh, laying her hands on her hips indignantly. "I bet I can go one better," she giggled, filled with false bravado because of his ridiculousness.

He laughed with her, his brows going up at the challenge. "Do me one better then."

Her hands lifted above her head, and she spun into a rolling cartwheel, springing upright just beyond him with her bare feet in the grass. She turned and gave him a bow, a small glimpse of the girl she had been before the worst of the experiences a few months before. "Tada yourself, Tinker."

"Do you have a home?" was her next question as her eyes turned down to watch her toes as she picked her way across the uneven ground. Without thinking, her fingers laced between his; it was more comfortable that way.

"I do." he smiled and continued walking. Their fingers laced together and he chuckled softly. "The wharves, the den." He glanced down at her. "With you."

She looked up at him sharply, searching his face curiously. "You're teasing me," she smiled sweetly, looking ahead. "You must know a lot of people who make you feel like you're at home."

"No, not teasing and no, not really." He shook his head and was relieved when they found themselves in another clearing. "Been alone for a long time, Wisp. Until recently, only the wharves were my home. And I scrounged by as best I could. Never thought I'd find family."

She was listening even as she looked around, enjoying the autumn colours of the trees that surrounded them. "Well, you have family now," she smiled, dismissing his insistence on not teasing as she squeezed his hand. "The pack seems to be family to every wanderer. They're very welcoming."

"You have family, too." he gripped her hand gently. "And they are very welcoming creatures. It's not very common you see felines and canines sleeping peacefully with lizards and ogres."

"I know." Frankie nodded, losing a little of her smile. "There was a wolf pack on the island back at home. They used to attack us on sight." She shrugged, making an effort to push away those thoughts. "It's nice to have family again. Brothers and sisters and ..." she paused, glancing up at him shyly "....and friends."

"Those days are gone. No more wolves will harm you. You're one of us now." He spoke as if the pack had existed, and him with it, for a long time. "And it's very nice to have friends." His grin widened.

She stared at him, that little giggle back in her voice as she spoke again. "You're very good at trusting people, aren't you? Most loners wouldn't go anywhere near a pack."

"I give people a chance. If they blow it, then no more trust." He thought it was pretty simple. "And so far, nobody has blown it with me, in that pack. I believe you have to give trust to earn trust."

"I guess I could stand to learn how to do that," Frankie shugged a little. Her smile faded abruptly as the scent of many people reached her nose, and her head whipped around in that direction, where the city could be seen through the trees. Instinctively, her hand tightened on his as she shrank back behind his shoulder.

"Each person has their own way, Wisp. What works for me, probably wouldn't work for you." And to prove his point, he felt her go rigid beside him. "Maybe the Market's not the best place. Do you want to go back?"

She peered over his shoulder towards the people milling at the gate. "They won't set fire to me, will they?" she whispered, her free hand clamping tight around his elbow.

"I won't let them, even if they tried. But I don't think they'll try. Rhydin's made up of all kinds of different kinds of people and species. Most of the time they get along peacefully. There's a balance there."

"We can come right away if I get too scared, right?" Her chin lifted to rest on his shoulder as she looked at him pleadingly. She wanted to be brave and impress him and the rest of the pack with how she went into the city, but at the same time, experience had taught her too much caution than was truly necessary.

"Of course we can, Wisp." He held her then, trying to give her strength and courage through that friendly hug. "Anything you like."

Small hands closed around the hot dog as she looked around, standing close to him. "W-we can stay here a little longer, can't we?" she asked him, hunger taking over as she bit into the bun.

He nodded and escorted her towards a small table with two chairs. "Of course we can. Anything you'd like." He smiled warmly and offered her a seat.

Chewing through a mouthful of pork and bread, Frankie followed him, brown eyes wide as she took in all the sights and sounds around them. She sat in the chair he offered her, dragging it around the table to be right up close against his. "Iff thiff o'hay?" Her tongue flicked out to catch a dribble of mustard as she spoke.

As she scoot closer, he curled his arm around her and grinned. Laughing at her food induced lisp, he reached over with his free hand to wipe mustard from the tip of her nose. "This is just fine." He was so proud of her, and it shone in his eyes.

Her nose scrunched as he wiped it clean, and she ducked her head with another blush, giggling as she swallowed. "Sorry, I'm making a mess." Her own hand lifted to rub her wrist against her nose before she took another bite, only slightly smaller than those she had already taken.

"You're doing fine." He grinned and then finished off his hot dog. Swallowing, he then spoke. "I love to see a girl with a good appetite." He winked playfully and simply watched her.

"Whaff?" Her hand smooshed the last of her hot dog into her mouth as she looked at him, completely innocent of whatever it was he found to watch in her. A few months as a lynx had certainly taken their toll on her table manners, that was for certain.

"Nothing, nothing." he chuckled as she finished off her own foot long. "Are you still hungry' I can go get another one for you."

She shook her head as her tongue busily squirrelled out all the litle bits from her teeth. "No, that was lovely. Thank you, Jared." Her smile was wide this time, more relaxed than it had been since entering the city. "You're very nice."

"You're very welcome. And I'm only nice to nice people." He grinned and sat back a bit, relaxing as she did. "Foot long hot dogs should be listed as one of the top cuisines in the world, I think."

She laughed, covering her mouth shyly. "Jared, you're funny," she giggled quietly, twisting a little to look at him. "Do you eat junk like that all the time?"

"Can we go back now?" She dropped back into her own seat, though her arms stayed around his shoulders as she looked at him. "I don't think I'm brave enough to stay after dark."

"Sure we can." He nodded and stood. But when he did, he lifted her with him. "We'll get you some shoes next time, ok?" His smile was wide as he turned to move out of the market place.

Shoes ....she'd forgotten what it felt like to wear them, looking down at her bare feet next to his booted ones. "Why do people wear shoes, anyway?" she asked curiously, wrapping her arms around his arm and insinuating her hand into his.

"Some for fashion, some for protection. Mostly to keep from cutting their soles when they walk. Or blistering them, or bruising them." He babbled on, strolling through that clearing. The sun was setting quickly and he stopped to sit on a boulder. "Just look at that, will you?"

"He's so pretty when he goes to sleep," she murmured, clambering up to sit beside him on the boulder. Her eyes didn't linger for long on the setting sun, her head turning to seek out the rising moon which held a purer fascination for her. "She's rising, Tink."

"Yes, he is." He murmured softly, peering at the sunset. As she climbed up onto the rock, he curled his arm around her. It'd become a habit. He turned his head with her and when the moon ghosted between two clouds, he closed his eyes and offered a small prayer.

Frankie thought nothing of leaning into the arm he curled around her, gazing up at the moon with the wonder that had never left her from the first moment she'd Changed. From the corner of her eye, she saw Jared's eyes close, and her focus shifted from Luna's face to his, watching him in silent curiosity.

When his eyes opened, they met those of Frankie's and he smiled. "What?" There was a hint of laughter in that question. "Haven't you ever prayed to Luna before?"

The shyness was back in her smile as their eyes met. "Yeah, but ..." Her eyes flickered to the moon and back to his gaze. "I didn't think males did it," she admitted quietly. "They never did at ....in my old pack."

"We can all use a little of her help, and a lot of humility. That's what praying teaches us." he nodded with a smile. The breeze and blown an errant lock of hair across her face and he reached up to tuck it behind her ear.

That blush was back, too, pinking her cheeks as he brushed her hair from her face. The expression in her eyes was a mixture torn from uncertainty, fondness, fear and warmth, and she couldn't hold his gaze very long before she had to look away, back to the ever rising moon. "She's always been there," she murmured softly. "Through everything, even the night I was born. Constantly changing but never far away."

He, on the other hand, couldn't stop looking at her, even as she turned to worship the moon. "The one constant in all of our lives." he whispered softly. "People come, people go, but Luna is always there."

Frankie didn't dare take her eyes away from the moon. She could feel him looking at her, see his eyes on her face from the corner of her eye. "Are you going to come and go?" she whispered back, her gaze still fixed on the constant, inconstant moon.