urden, something no healthy Selani would ever think of doing.  Tarrin saw that the older children ran with their parents, though most of them were at the rear of the host, and the group was followed by some fifteen Selani carrying long spears.  He had to dredge his memory to remember who they were.  The al'bai, the Defenders, Selani who specialized in defending the flanks and rear of a moving Selani clan, as the Scouts defended its front and ferreted out possible dangers.  They used their long spears to defend against inu and kajat, engaging the beasts to give the host time to get away from them.  They were highly respected for their almost suicidal bravery and tenacity when defending the clan against threat,and their skill in battling against their reptillian animal foes was exceptional.  They made a habit of knowing everything there was to know about the inu and kajat, so that they could battle them more effectively should they threaten the clan.  That didn't mean that they were pushovers when facing humanoids, either.  The al'bai were some of the strongest and most skilled fighters the Selani had.
	Kedaira padded up to Tarrin's side, issuing a very low growl from her throat.  "Easy," he told her.  "I'm here to fix that, remember?"
	She looked up at him, her reptillian eyes calm, and she shivered her head noncommitally.
	Despite knowing that they were Allia's clan, something in Tarrin just couldn't help but feel a little...uneasy.  Even though it had been many, many months since placed in a position like he was in now, the time had done very little to ease his lingering ferality.  He didn't feel comfortable surrounded by strangers, and he simply could not help but feel a little defensive.  Without thought, as the All seemed to respond to his unease and concern, Tarrin Summoned the Cat's Claws from their resting place in the trunk at the foot of his bed.  They appeared around his wrists and forearms, and Tarrin was a little surprised to see them there, as he had no honest memory of Summoning them.  But he had to admit, feeling their comforting weight on his arms, sensing their powerful magic, lovingly woven into them by his dear sister, he felt much more secure.  The invisible, phantom armor they provided was comfort enough, but knowing that they were also lethal weapons which could be employed by speed of thought made him feel much more confident about facing unknown strangers.
	Even after everything that had happened and all the peace he had enjoyed, Tarrin was still feral, and always would be.  Its impact on him may change, but it would never be completely purged from him.
	Adjusting them a bit to keep them from snarling in the fetlocks on the outsides of his wrists, Tarrin regarded the advancing Selani with a calm, almost calculating eye.  "What's the matter, Papa?" Jasana asked.  "Are they bad people?"
	"No, cub," he answered her.  "But you know how I feel about strangers."
	"I know," she sighed.
	Tarrin decided that now, since the Selani were in sight, it would be a good time to remind his cubs of a few things.  "Eron!" Tarrin barked, "come here!"
	Tarrin knelt as his son ran up from where he'd been following Zumar around, pestering him with endless questions and observations.  He made both of them stand before him, looking down at them with stern eyes.  "Alright then, I want both of you to remember what we talked about earlier," he told them.  "How you behave is going to reflect on me and your Aunt Allia.  You have to be very, very good, or you're going to get us in trouble with Allia's father.  Do you understand?"
	"I understand, Papa," Jasana said seriously.
	"You told us that already, Papa!" Eron compained.
	"I'm making sure you understood it, cub," Tarrin told him with a steely look.  "This isn't a game where you can just take something back.  If you embarass me or Allia, we're stuck with it, and it might make Allia's father send us home.  How would you like to be kicked out of the desert because you couldn't behave yourself?  How do you think your mother is going to react when she finds out why we came home early?"
	Few things could cow Eron like mentioning his mother and the possibility of punishment.  Mist wasn't cruel to him, but she knew how to punish him.  Usually she put him in a small room with absolutely nothing within to catch his interest and made him stew for a while.  The boredom drove the slightly hyper Were-cat cub absolutely crazy.  "I'll be good, Papa," he promised.
	"I also wanted to remind you two to be gentle if any of the Selani children play with you," he told them.  "You know how the other races are, cubs.  They're very weak and very fragile.  You have to be very gentle with them, or you'll hurt them.  It's alright to play with them, but don't forget that.  We don't want anyone getting hurt by accident, alright?"
	"I can be gentle, Papa," Eron proclaimed immediately.  "It's like playing with one of the dogs on Gramma and Grandpa's farm.  I won't hurt anyone."
	"That's all I need to hear.  You can go play now," he told them gently, reaching out and tapping Eron on the tip of his nose with a huge finger.  Eron flinched and giggled, then immediately ran off to go back to pestering Zumar once again.
	"Do you really think that Allia's father will be that mean to us?" Jasana asked.
	"I'm not sure, cub," he said seriously.  Jasana was much more mature of mind than Eron, and that meant that he would occassionally talk to her about such things.  "He's not very happy with Allia at the moment, and remember, I'm another one of those things that he's probably mad at her about.  I don't want to give him any reason to think any worse of us or her than he already does.  We're here to try to help Allia with her father, not make things worse."
	"I understand," she said with a single nod.
	"I thought you might, cub," he said.  "It's hard to remember that you're as young as you are sometimes."  He gave her a gentle smile.  "And sometimes, it's as obvious as the day is long."
	Jasana flushed a little, but said nothing.  "Shouldn't you go meet him?" she asked.
	"No.  I'm not going to run over there like a fawning bootlicker, cub.  I have my pride, and I think it's important that gets put on the table at the outset.  When Allia's father wants to see me, he'll send for me.  Until then, he's of no concern of mine."
	"Won't he think you're being stuck up?"
	"You don't know the Selani very well, cub," he told her.  "Trust me.  I'm doing exactly what I need to do to make the proper first impression."
	"What do we do until he calls us?"
	"What we were doing before, cub," he told her.  "Allyn is over there helping that Scout dig a firepit.  Let's give them a hand."
	Kedaira stayed close to Tarrin for some reason, but he gave it no mind as he and Jasana went over and helped Allyn and the female Selani Scout, Melila, dig a wide, shallow firepit to be used to ward off Sandmen at night.  They had already prepared enough of them to form a perimeter on the eastern edge of the planned campsite, and Tarrin realized that they would encircle the camp with them to protect against Sandmen.  Tarrin looked back to the arriving clan and realized that they didn't have enough firewood to set that many fires and make them last all night.  But then again, they had to have some kind of a plan, so Tarrin didn't worry about it too much.
	The clan arrived moments later, and immediately flowed into the projected campsite and started work.  Tarrin watched a moment with Jasana as Selani guided chisa into the camp and started unloading them, looking like families handled their own tents and possessions themselves.  They moved with a casual certainty about them, an absent efficiency that came with performing an action repeatedly over many years.  They had set up camps almost every day of their lives since they could walk, so they were quite good at it.  Before the last Selani filed into the campsite, the first of the tents were already erected.  They used surprisingly large, low-ceilinged pyramid-like tents that smelled like they were made out of the plant fiber from which their clothing was constructed.  A single tent occupied a great deal of ground area, but was little more than ten spans high at its center, and when they were erected, their sides were pulled surprisingly taut.  Tarrin realized that they were made that way to help deflect the wind, being low to the ground and with very long sides, letting the wind flow over them without catching on the tent and tearing it away.
	The Selani couldn't help but stare at him, and Tarrin noticed that the very first place they looked was at his shoulders.  They were looking at his brands.  Tarrin looked back calmly at the smaller, lithe Selani, who had taken off their veils but continued to wear their visors, trying to get their tents up so they could duck inside and get out of the midday heat.  Many of them looked at Jasana as well, and he wasn't sure if their expressions were disapproving or simply disinterested.  Tarrin was about to go back to helping Allyn when Allia's shrill, loud whistle caught his attention.  She was standing with her parents and another Selani, and she beckoned to him with her hand when he looked in her direction, literally looking over the heads of all the Selani around him.
	"Looks like it's time, cub," Tarrin said absently.  "Do me a favor and go corral Eron and bring him to us."
	"Alright, Papa," Jasana acknowledged, letting go of his tail and scurrying off in the direction of the careening Were-cat.
	Tarrin stalked through the swarming Selani as they labored to set up their camp, looking over and seeing that the sukk were being led out into the scrub to graze, loosely circled by Selani holding spears and bows with arrows nocked.  They had about a hundred of them, quite a large flock, along with about fifteen or so chisa.  The larger reptillians were easy to pick out amond the sukk.  Tarrin advanced on Allia's position with a blank face, that same emotionless mask that he had seen on Triana's face so many times, an expression that he had learned was most effective when dealing with unknown people.  He stalked up on the four of them, Kallan, Kaila, probably Allia's aunt Dulai, and Allia herself, scrutinizing each of them in turn.  Kallan was a very tall Selani, thin as a whip but absolutely exuding authority.  He had that same sense as Triana, an aura of unshakable will and power that affected everyone around him, though Kallan's sense of presence was absolutely nothing compared to Triana's.  He was a handsome Selani, with thin, high features and a faint scar over his right eyebrow.  Kallan's hair was a kind of light beige, the color of pampas grass, not quite white yet not quite anything but white.  His large eyes were blue, just like Allia's.  His face and hands were all of him that Tarrin could see, but it was enough to tell that Kallan was strong and tough as an old thistle.
	Kaila's injuries were more apparent when one got close to her, for she had a hideous scar that ran from the left side of her face, running out from her blond hair and under a band of ragged leather serving as an eye patch that most likely covered an empty eye socket, and then down her cheek to her jaw, a deep, jagged scar made by an animal with very long, very sharp claws, marring what had been a very lovely face before her injury.  Her left hand and half of her forearm was missing, and her right leg moved as if it did not have a knee.  But despite that, there was a kind of vibrancy about the woman that seemed to jump out at him, a woman with a powerful will to live but also enjoying the life that she had.  He could tell immediately that she did not mourn the loss of her hand, eye, and mobility.  She had put it behind her, and continued to live life to its fullest.  This was a very strong woman.
	The third woman, probably Dulai, looked much like Kallan did, which marked her as Kallan's sister.  She was very tall for a Selani, nearly as tall as Allia, which meant that Allia's height came from her father's side of the family.  She had wide, almost cherubic cheekbones that reminded him of Faalken for an irrational moment, but had dark blue, brooding eyes that seemed cold and cunning.  She did have white hair, just like Allia, draping out from under her turban in a very long tail that nearly dragged the ground behind her.  She seemed...uptight.  That wasn't a good description of the sense he got from her, but there was something about her that was very unrelaxed.  That seemed as good an explanation as any.  When he got close enough to scent her, his sense of that was reinforced.  Dulai was a worrier, or neurotic, or something along those lines.
	Tarrin reached them and came to a stop, looking down at them with slightly narrowed eyes, as the old sense of trepidation rose up in him at facing strangers.  It was much easier to control now, allowing him to crush it under a thought that these were Allia's family, and as such should not be treated as most other strangers.  He let them look up at him, and what was more important, he let them realize that he had absolutely no fear of any of them.  His gaze was predatory, penetrating, and it was a gaze that Dulai could not hold for more than a moment before looking away.  Kallan stared back at him with equal intensity, neither speaking nor moving, until Kaila laughed and broke both of their stares with her distraction.
	"By the Holy Mother's grace, daughter," she chuckled, looking up at him.  "You said he was tall, but I didn't expect him to be tall."
	"Father, may I present Tarrin Kael, my deshida," Allia said in very formal tones.
	Kallan's first look at Tarrin--anywhere but his eyes, anyway--was at his shoulders.  When he saw the brands there, one of his eyebrows rose in a curious, almost quizzical manner.  "My daughter speaks very highly of you, Tarrin Kael," he said in a calm voice.  "She gives you much honor.  It is my intent to discover if you are worth it."
	"You don't trust your daughter's judgement, kirza?" Tarrin asked, using the Selani term for king, which was exactly what Kallan was.
	"Given that she brings a soft near-cousin of our people home with her to marry, brings home an inu as a pet, and broke some of our oldest and most sacred laws when she did what she did with you, let us say that I think it is possible her ability to judge wisely was damaged while she was among the wetlanders," he countered.
	"Time will tell," Tarrin told him calmly, almost cooly.
	"Yes, it will," Kallan agreed.
	"Well, let me say that I've been looking forward to meeting you, Tarrin Kael," Kaira said with a light, genuine smile, extending her hand.  Tarrin took it, swallowing it up in his paw.  "Kallan and Allia may fight about her behavior, but I don't think even my husband can deny the love our daughter has for you."
	"I'm glad you feel that way," he told her, feeling her light touch on his pads.  Touching her, he couldn't help but send a short weave through her, assessing the extent of her injuries.  They had all healed, but he sensed from his probing weave that they had done no damage to any of her organs or bones, only the obvious damage she displayed.  The problem with her knee was that the the bite that inflicted the wound had partially damaged or totally severed all the tendons and ligaments in her knee, and she had lost most of the tissue surrounding it.  The inu had literally stripped her knee area to the bone.  Scar tissue completely consumed the joint now, making it immovable, and the damaged ligaments and tendons wouldn't allow the muscles to move the joint anyway.  The scar tissue actually served to aid her, stiffening the damaged joint and keeping it from buckling every time she put weight on it.
	Forgetting himself in the moment, he reached up and pulled the eyepatch away, inspecting the wound to her face.  The eye socket was still intact; that was a good sign.  The claw had snagged her eye and literally pulled it out, instead of ripping apart the bone and musculature that held it in place.  Kaila didn't seem to object, but he missed Kallan's infuriated look as he gently turned the woman's head to the side, checking the scar.  That would be easy enough to repair.
	"Remove your hands from my wife!" Kallan hissed in an offended tone.
	"Tarrin is not harming her, father," Allia said quickly.  "His powers of magic also include healing.  I think he is assessing whether or not he can do anything for mother.  He means no disrespect."
	"It would be prudent to warn someone, you know," Kaila told him with a light smile.
	"I apologize," he said sincerely, letting go.  "I tend to ignore the wishes of others from time to time.  Call it a peculiarity of my race."
	"That's a peculiarity of almost any race," Kaila told him with a wink of her remaining eye.
	Tarrin immediately started to like Allia's mother.
	"Well, what can you do for me, Tarrin?" she asked with a light smile and an almost mischevious look in her single eye.  Her banter seemed to defuse Kallan, who took a less stiff posture.
	"What do you want done?" he asked in reply.  "I can fix all of this.  I can even give you back your hand."
	"I'm sure you could," she smiled, reaching up and pushing his paw down.  "But so could the Holy Mother's voice here in the clan, our Priestess.  The Holy Mother has not deigned to heal my wounds yet.  Perhaps she feels that there is something more I need to learn before she allows it to be done, and as in all things, I will bow to her will.  When the Holy Mother feels it is time for me to be healed, I will be healed.  But until then, I will continue on as I am now."
	Tarrin blinked, removing his paw, surprised by her response.  And in a way, he couldn't refute her.  If she had that much faith in Fara'Nae, it was not his place to try to usurp it by healing her before she felt that Fara'Nae felt she was ready.  But Tarrin did file that little bit of information away in the back of his mind, fully intending to confront her over it the next time they talked.  If Kaila wasn't ready to be healed, then nobody was.  She was so strong, so full of life, not even her injuries could slow her down.  She deserved to be healed.
	"I would hope that you'd have known Selani custom better, and known that to do what you have just done is not considered honorable," Kallan told him stiffly.
	"Oh come now, Kallan, he did no harm," Kaila told him.  "And he is an outlander.  He has his own customs, and nobody can fault him for accidentally reverting to them.  Touching me like that was some kind of custom, wasn't it?" she asked him.
	"In a way," Tarrin answered.  "It would be hard to explain."
	"Besides, he was doing what he did out of a desire to do good.  Doesn't that count for something?"
	Kallan said nothing, but Kaila's argument obviously hit a nerve.  Tarrin could tell that Kallan was extremely defensive about his wife, so he made a note to be delicate about that subject from then on.
	In a moment of clarity, Tarrin understood why Kaila wasn't healed.  It wasn't because of her, it was because of her husband.  There was something going on here, some kind of subtle interaction between them that was enough to prevent Fara'Nae's hand.  The lesson to be learned wouldn't be learned by Kaila, it would be learned by Kallan.  When he discovered that truth, Fara'Nae would relent.  It seemed wrong to force Kaila to continue to be impaired in this lesson, but he realized that her faith and her liveliness wouldn't allow her to get depressed or self-pitying.  She was happy to go on living, no matter how it was that she lived.
	Quite a few people could learn something from Allia's surprising mother.
	Tarrin put that out of his mind and looked at Kallan.  So far, Tarrin hadn't done much to impress the Selani clan king, but he could tell that Kallan hadn't quite made up his mind about Tarrin yet.  Kaila's defense of Tarrin had defused that somewhat, enough to where Kallan was again speculative instead of hostile.
	"Are you ready to perform the task I have asked you to perform?" Kallan asked him.
	"I can take care of that at your earliest convenience, kirza," he answered.  "It may take me a couple of days, because I have to talk to each of your animals one at a time.  I didn't realize you had quite this many."
	"You can tend to that later.  For right now, I want to see what my daughter has taught you," he said, looking right into Tarrin's eyes.  "When the camp is fully set up, I will see what you know."
	Tarrin had no doubt that Kallan meant to test his fighting ability, to test his mettle and see what kind of a man he was in a fight.  Tarrin had fully expected that, and in a way, he welcomed it.  He'd been curious for a long time to see if Kallan was of equal measure to his daughter.
	Tarrin reached within, through the Cat, and made contact with the boundless energy of the All.  The image and intent in his mind were clear, and the All responded to them quickly and effortlessly.  Two foul-smelling gloves appeared in his paw, the Trollskin gloves that Allia and others had used in order to spar against him.  "Here," he said, offering them to the Selani leader.
	"What are these?" he asked, taking them.
	"They're magical artifacts that will give you the strength of a Troll," he answered as Allia gave him a narrow-eyed yet highly approving look.  "They'll make it a fair fight."
	"You think I cannot best you without help?" Kallan asked with sudden heat.
	"Yes, I do," he answered with brutal honesty.  "I think Allia's described me to you, kirza.  Did you think she was exaggerating?  I really am that strong.  I'd only have to hit you once, and the match would be over."
	Kallan gave him a hot look.
	"If you don't want to use the gloves, that's your decision," Tarrin told him.  "But when I beat you, I wouldn't consider it to be a fair test.  I'd feel there was no honor in it.  I want to fight you on equal ground, kirza, where I can test my skill against yours when I have no outrageous advantage over you.  Unless you wear those gloves, it won't be a contest on an equal level.  I want it to be an honorable contest."
	Tarrin knew Selani, and he knew he'd just smoothed over Kallan's anger and earned a few points besides.  It would sound arrogant to anyone but a Selani about his confidence in being able to take Kallan without the gloves, but that was only simple truth.  And Tarrin explained it as such.  Without those gloves, he really would only have to hit Kallan once, and the fight was over.  With the gloves, Tarrin would have no strength advantage, and it would truly be skill against skill, a contest between equals.  That that was what Tarrin was seeking was a testament to his honor.  He knew Kallan would wear the gloves because he could not deny Tarrin's logic, use them to test Tarrin's skill in battle.  But he also knew that as soon as Kallan got a feel for Tarrin in the match, after he had assessed Tarrin's ability, he would put the gloves aside and try to defeat Tarrin without them.  Defeating an enemy with an overwhelming advantage brought a warrior a tremendous amount of honor.  Kallan would not resist the temptation of trying.  And even if he lost, he would gain honor, for simply taking up the challenge of battling a stronger opponent was an honorable undertaking.
	Tarrin could respect that, and he really wanted to fight Kallan on equal ground.  He wanted to see if Kallan was a match for Allia, one of the very few living beings that Tarrin respected enough to fear having to fight.  If Kallan was half of Allia, he would be a formidable opponent.
	"I can accept your argument, Tarrin," Kallan announced in a much smoother, almost appreciative tone.  "My daughter has described your unique advantages in the past, and it would be more of a test if we stood on level ground.  I will wear the gloves.  But when the test is done, I will test myself against you without them, to test my ability.  And I expect you to give me everything you have, whether I wear them or not," he ordered.
	"I would never hold back, kirza," Tarrin said calmly.
	Jasana brought Eron up to them, and Tarrin looked down to see them.  "Kirza, these are my children, Jasana and Eron," he said.
	"Why would you bring your children here?" Kallan asked.
	"To teach them about the homeland of their aunt Allia," he answered.  "So far, they've done very well, though my son Eron keeps trying to catch just about anything poisonous."
	Kallan actually chuckled, kneeling down.  "Well now, that Allia's deshida would bring his children to be taught our ways speaks highly of his devotion to the clan," he admitted, putting a slender hand on Jasana's shoulder.  Kallan reached for Eron, who tried to take his hand.
	"Gently!" Tarrin warned when Eron grabbed hold of Kallan's hand.
	Kallan winced.  "He has quite a grip."
	"You wouldn't want to experience the full grip, kirza, believe me," Tarrin told him bluntly.  "Say hello, cubs."
	"Hullo," Jasana said shyly.
	"Are you Aunt Allia's Papa?" Eron asked excitedly.
	"I am," Kallan replied.
	"We were told we had to be extra-good while we're with you, or Papa will be really mad at us," Eron announced.
	"Well, I appreciate that," Kallan said with a sly smile at Tarrin.
	"Papa said Aunt Allia has a nephew.  Where is he?"
	"Zakra is with the other children," the woman Dulai finally spoke.  "He'll be along as soon as they're ready.
	"Ooh, can I go play with the Selani, Papa?" Eron asked hastily.
	"They won't be able to play for a bit yet," Kallan warned.  "They have duties to perform before they can play.  But maybe you'd like to go with them?  It would let you see what our children do when the camp is set up."
	"I would!" Eron said quickly.
	"May I stay with Papa?" Jasana asked politely, grabbing hold of the end of his tail.
	"If you wish, youngling," Kallan told her, standing up.  "We all have duties to see to," he announced.  "Go with Allia, Tarrin.  When the camp is set up, you and I will test ourselves against one another in the Dance."
	"I'm looking forward to it, kirza," Tarrin said with a slight smile.
 
Chapter 4

	Much to his own surprise, this was the closest that Tarrin had ever come to seeing the Selani live.
	Certainly, he had been around Selani a great deal in the last few years, mainly Allia, and had ever come through the desert once before, but he realized that he had never seen the Selani set camp before.  The two times he had seen Selani clans, they had already been camped.  The first was Denai's clan, when he briefly--very briefly--met with their chief, Denai's father.  The second time was at Gathering, when he had travelled through their many, many camps on his way to the Cloud Spire.  He had experienced much of the Selani at play when he'd travelled through Gathering, but hadn't seen the Selani labor as he saw them labor while they set up camp.  He'd seen a tribe up in arms the first time he'd seen a Selani group, and then seen them at play at Gathering.  Both were extraordinary times, but now he had the chance to see Selani that weren't watching him like a hawk, or weren't celebrating their annual festival of coming together.
	Tarrin moved among them as they tried to ignore him, tried to take no notice of him, watching them as they set up tents or drew water from the well, as they started setting out chores they could do during the hottest part of the day.  Chores such as sewing, caring for weapons, tending the flocks of sukk as they disbersed around the campsite to graze on the small, tough leaves of the scrub bushes that were flourishing on the plain.  Chores such as preparing the lunch commonly eated during the hottest part of the day, a lunch consisting customarily of grain cakes, dried meat or vegetables, or whatever could be easily hunted down and eaten raw.  Selani didn't waste precious firewood unless it was dark, meaning that anything eaten during daylight was not cooked.  Tarrin had found out that the firewood came from the southeastern corner of the desert, where stands of trees called atha grew, trees which were carefully harvested by the Selani to provide firewood without destroying the groves that grew in foothills along the coast, where mist from the sea would provide the trees with the water they needed to thrive.  They traded for the rest of the firewood they used, part of what they traded with the Wikuni or the merchants of Saranam.  The Selani didn't trade at the moment with Arkis, for the clans abutting Arkis were angry with the Arkisians over their lax attitude concerning restraining the gold hunters that crossed the Sandshield and invaded their lands, and the Arkisians were furious with the Selani over the deaths of quite a few merchants.  Merchants were permitted into the desert, but they rarely came in far, since few merchants could get more than a day into the desert without being spotted by a Scout.  But the problem was, the newest wave of gold hunters were posing as merchants, coming in as far as they dared, buying and selling with the Selani, then trying to pick up as much gold as they could when they thought the Selani weren't watching.  There had been a good number of what the Arkisians called atrocities of Selani killing merchants, but those were merchants that broke the rules.  The true merchants that came into the desert knew better than to so much as look hard at any gold they may find.  They took what payment the Selani gave them and wouldn't dare take a fleck of gold.  The merchants who'd been killed were ones that broke the rules.
	Tarrin watched them as they set up, talking with one another, casting furtive glances his way.  Some of those glances were speculative, some were hostile, and some were unconcerned.  That was more or less what he was expecting.  He didn't expect that all the Selani would reject him, nor did he think all would accept him.  Selani were a curious people sometimes, for though they all seemed similar on the surface, in reality they were as different from one another as humans were.  What made them seem to act similar were the codes of honor that they obeyed, customs and practices that all Selani performed, as well as universal attitudes concerning those who were outlanders.  But Tarrin had a much different viewpoint from which to observe them, for he understood the Selani culture very well, and wasn't quite an outsider.  He was by no means an accepted part of the clan yet, but he was also not an outsider.  He occupied a rather unusual niche at the moment, and it was his uncertain standing among them that caused most of the looks that came his way.  The ind