Wild Heart

[Tenzin]

After her evening with Mik and Andre, Tenzin sought solace with the wolves outside the city. They could not understand her troubles, but they soothed the snarls in her mind with simple belonging and companionship, and in that warm den of safety Tenzin let herself be. They shared news and warmth, from good hunting to the delightful antics of pups, and then to the whispers of the dream – of a wolf, the oldest one, who had begun striding amongst them all, agitated by a man who was kin and not.

They also spoke of strange ripples containing ancient power, and more things that woke or rediscovered forgotten secrets in the dream. The wolves watched it all, some necessitating a closer guard than others. Two such names Tenzin did not recognise. When such great powers began rousing like terrible sleeping beasts threatening to wake, the pack must be wary. This information travelled between all the packs, but none really knew what it meant.

A few days tumbled past before she realised her wild heart needed the reminders of man, and on that morning she returned to the safe house. Her feelings over Jacinda had calmed into a steadfast resolution. Chases Butterflies had gently nudged; she had more experience with the kin, had even let one of older pups leave with one so that they might teach and learn the old ways together. And she spoke of someone who needed help.

Jacinda would come with her if she asked. Or at least she hoped. Perhaps outside of the city’s press the conversation would be easier. And perhaps Tenzin would seem less of a monster. She was not ashamed of what she was, and she trusted her companion enough that she did not think Jacinda’s newly discovered epiphany was so fragile in nature as to shatter the moment Tenzin revealed herself. The things she said had been heartfelt and earnest. And in the moment, that had been the problem. Because in the face of Jacinda’s vulnerable honesty, Tenzin had felt like a lie.

But upon her return she was dismayed to find the safehouse empty. It wasn’t remotely fair to feel abandoned, but in the moment of being confronted with all that silence after months of living so closely together, she did. And for the first time she wondered if her visceral reaction had caused irreparable damage. If the space she had needed had not been understood. She felt a whine claw at her chest, but shook it off, and discovered the message that had been left for her.

"Amelia Pond's in trouble. I went to help her...I'll let you know what I find."

She paused over it. Listened a few times. Her fingers traced the empty spot on her wrist, where Silver’s tooth had once sat.

Then she left her own note in turn, written in stilted old-fashioned hand. She’d never been much for the Atharim’s tech.

Be safe. Business outside Moscow. Coming back.

She grumbled at her own inelegance with the language. Added with a frown, in the much easier flourish of her mother tongue: I want you to know who I am.

Then she packed the things she would need, locked up, and left.