Hunter was confused. The business with Alisoina. The unexpected escalation of his relationship with Ilithyia. The time spent caring for another person's child. And his recent realization that not only was Angus flirting with him, but that he was attracted to the other boy. It was an incomprehensible puzzle. Each piece twisted some hidden set of strings within his being. Dredging up old, forbidden feelings. Regrets.

Hunter, Brand and Laurel had been friends since - well, since forever really. Many of Hunter's earliest memories involved wandering the strange new world of the Grey Marks in the company of the fearless, taller older boy - Durg Brand's son - and the willowy girl - daughter of the tribe's healer. They had shared many experiences: first hunt, first kill, first birthing. They had explored together in plains and forest and field and town. They had braved rockslides and thunderstorms and conflicts with other tribes and the occasional brawl. They had saved each others' hides many times over. The two wicks always managed to make Hunter break his promises to his parents. But they had always seen him safely through any trouble the group encountered (or, more often, invited).

So when he finally returned from the awful visit to Hox, it was only natural to celebrate with his friends. Homecoming and his and Brand's birthday celebrations (Brand had turned eighteen the week before Hunter turned sixteen) all rolled into one big night of partying. Brewing chan with some Black Hands that they had encountered was not wise, but it led to an unforgettable experience. For it was on that night that Brand decided to help "initiate" his friend into manhood. Laurel was fond enough of both boys, although she did not take the thought of a relationship with either of them seriously. Halfway between the tribe's camp and the nearest village, the trio had explored a night of intimacy in Brand's kint.

The affair continued for the next year in various combinations. Fred and Laurel, when Brand was away on tribe business. Fred and Brand on a particularly long hunting trip. They were discreet, but Fred's parents noticed that something was different about their son. The journey to the Muluku Islands was a temptation that Fred could not resist. He didn't realize it was an elaborate plan on the part of his mother to get him away from his "wild" influences.

The islands had been fantastic, living up to Fred's elaborate imaginings and more. He had learned to sail, learned the various spices and their sources, learned see routes and new stories and engaged in a new culture. He had even had a brief relationship with a wick dancer. The girl had been beautiful and bright, but in the end she had served mainly to remind him that Laurel was waiting for him (he naively believed) back in the Tors.

That last trip to the Grey Marks ( The last trip to the Grey Marks, Hunter reminded himself sourly) had been a series of discoveries as terrible as his earlier visit had been a delight. Brand and Laurel had married. Worse, there was a child. A boy. Frederick. If Hunter had any trouble counting the months, one look at the boy's dark hair and fair skin was enough to bring the reality home. His friends had taken on the full responsibilities of adulthood. They were still his friends, but it wasn't the same. There was much dancing around the truth. Many forced conversations about travel and adventures. And the rumors. Hunter's parents had quickly decided that it was time to send their son to Brunnhold where he could safely finish his own journey to adulthood without the influence of his wild friends.

And so, here I am.

The words, his thoughts, fell away from him on the wind. He was a good two miles away from school. Streak was somewhere ahead, calling him to follow, to run free. While the wind's rush and the rhythm of footsteps and heartbeat would drum away the memories, and might take him far away from his feelings, Hunter was anything but free. No matter how much he felt like escaping, he knew that dawn would find him dutifully returned to Brunnhold.

He ran anyway.