Restful and peaceful.

It had been some time since I slept long and dreamless, and unfortunately I only managed the first of those.

The Warmaiden visited me, to kill me, and I woke under the noon sun. I sat up, crossing my hooves, and let out a yawn. I heard a noise to my side, and turned my head. The sound registered as birdsong, and I touched my maimed hand to my scarred eye. "That'll take some getting used to. Fuck."

I looked inwards, checking my reserves, and made my calculations. At this point, I probably had enough energy for three-four days before I entered the danger zone, and then half that time before I died. A perhaps a minute of power before I burned myself to ash. This body was a burden, I was coming to realize, and I wasn't yet sure if it were worth it. I extended my foretalon into a dagger, keeping careful watch on my reserves.

To my surprise, it took basically nothing. After a few minutes of testing, I realized that while had a far larger upkeep, using small abilities didn't drain me. Small transformations, looking at magic, heating up parts of my body; it was all pretty easy to do. I stood and left the room.

Once I was outside, the sun a pleasant heat, I started putting my new base through it's paces. I could leap fairly high, and I had gained quite a bit of strength and speed. My balance felt more stable, the tail moving with easy instinct. As I moved, enjoying the easy power that flowed through my limbs, I became aware of something lurking deeper.

The skin around my chest, above my heart, started to give a red glow as I moved. My talons heated naturally as my body primed itself for combat, the white fur that covered my legs started to shine with a redness, and my hooves began to burn the dirt below. Even my skin began to blacken, my veins burning beneath.

It would be very easy to shift back into that form.

I breathed out and let my body cool, looking again at my reserves. I had burned through about an eighth of what I'd had.

I looked back at the house, and found a single amber eye watching me.

"Grandma." I said, sketching a bow. She smiled a little, face lined with fatigue. I found my mouth opening, and a question tumbling out. "How is she?"

"Well enough." Cuanne looked down at my hooves, at the blacked grass in her lawn. "She lives, which is more than I'd hoped for last night. I'd thank you, but. . ."

I gave a little shrug, her point was made. "Since I'm just an ignorant kid, do you mind If I ask a few questions?"

"Ask away." Cuanne stretched out, drawing my eye to her body. She was wearing another white dress, this one paired with a red shawl. She held the pose a moment and then winced and touched her neck, drawing my eyes to the bruises on her pale skin. "Ahh, that's stiff."

"Right. Sorry." The word came easily enough and, to my surprise, I found that I meant it. Apathy was easier in the absence of respect, but there was something about the little wolf woman that I couldn't help but admire. "If that means anything to you."

"It's fine. We fought, and you won; how you achieved that victory is irrelevant." Cuanne leaned against the door. "And, I think I told you that I understood. You're a predator, I may as well condemn a wolf for eating meat. Hating you because you want to live, because it's in your nature, is foolish. You would have died if you didn't **** us."

"Yes." I hesitated for a moment. "I suppose I could have asked."

She laughed. "Said the wolf to the sheep."

I had a laugh at that. I showed her my hand, three-fingered and scarred. "Sheep had a nasty bite."

"You had questions?" She said, still smiling. I put down my hand and walked over to her. I sat on the porch and she joined me; there was no fear or apprehension in her, despite it all. "I'll answer if I can."

"You said the corruption in the wound would have mattered if she had no power."

"Right." Cuanne nodded. "Her power will fight off that sort of infection. Simply having Pnuema will increase someone's resistance to curses and other magical ailments. If she had no natural defenses against it, then the power in those wounds would run rampant."

"I see." I held my hand up to my eye. "Is that related to how this won't heal fully?"

She held her hand up to her own ruined eye. "Lochra's claws are sharp, aren't they?"

"You too?"

"Yes, back before we left the tribe. She's very strong. You should be proud for defeating her, you're the first person to do so." Cuanne touched the scar. "Wounds caused by magic are harder to heal with magic, the residual energy interferes with the healing process. This is especially true with passive healing."

I considered that, filing it away for future use. I readied my next question, meeting her eye-to-eye. "You said I had 'great timing'?"

"If you'd showed up a week ago, or a week from now, I'd have slaughtered you." She said it matter-of-factly, so casual and assured that it sent a chill down my spine. "Instead, you showed up just short of the new moon. Yesterday, I was at my weakest and then you drained me to the point that I'm little better than a mundane human. I couldn't even recover any magic last night, as there was no moon."

"A part of your nature, I assume."

"A part of my oath, in fact." Cuanne replied. "We are Greylings. When we come of age we take a form of power, and transform thereby. I chose the totem of the wolf, and swore to the Celestial Contract; thus, my power waxes and wanes with the moon."

Which mostly meant nothing to me, but I nodded anyway.

"So, even if I were 'hungry' you're still as empty as you were last night."

"Yes." Cuanne sighed, giving my cock an annoyed glance. "I suppose, if you must eat then I'll need to help. It's the only way I can preserve your life, as long as I'm the only available woman here."

"I can wait, I still have some energy." I looked over her body again, the graceful slender litheness. "I'd love to fuck you recreationally, but I don't believe that's part of our contract."

"No." Cuanne sighed again. "Bloody crude kid."

"Well, let's continue." I smiled. "Tell me about the area, tell me about fighting, about magic, about everything."