Struggling for survival amid a confusion of emotions. Fighting to fulfill basic needs. It was eerily familiar. “And then what happened?”

“I met another cat. There was a wounded deer, and we found it at the same time. I was ten years old, not yet fully grown, but still ready to fight the other cat for the carcass. She stepped back and let me eat first. After that, she brought me food. That was enough to win me over.” Pashla smiled wryly. “It really did not take much. Back then, I had no concept of language, rules, or loyalty. All I understood was my next meal.”

Kyra scrutinized Pashla’s face, trying unsuccessfully to imagine this graceful, self-possessed clanswoman as the wild thing she had described, tamed finally by food and kindness. Flick had won Kyra over with food as well. She lowered her head to hide a sudden pang of loneliness.

Pashla continued. “I remember the first time I saw her change. It took me completely off guard, seeing her in her skin. I almost attacked her. She must have known the risk, but she was determined to show me what I was. And she did win me over.

“A while later, I changed for the first time. I was sated after my meal. She had brought others from the clan to see me, and when they changed, my body followed suit. It was frightening. Suddenly, I was naked, cold, vulnerable. My mind was clearer, but my senses were dulled. They made noises at me that I didn’t understand. That time, I did attack. You can draw blood with fingernails, if you’re vicious enough. It took weeks to tame me. Months to teach me language, and years to bring me into the clan. But the woman—Dala was her name—was very patient, and Leyus was good to me. Other leaders would have killed me for my rebelliousness, but he liked my spirit. I’m indebted to both of them. It is good to be in a clan.”