.  He was using his familiarity with Allia against him, tricking him into making assumptions and then making him pay for them.  Kallan proved with that trick that he wasn't just a measure of Allia.  He was better.  Allia had the edge in raw speed, but Kallan would absolutely own his daughter if they ever fought.
	Kallan tried to press the advantage by shifting his attack to Tarrin's left side, but the Were-cat simply backed up to give his arm the second it needed to heal, and then he stepped up and fearlessly engaged the Selani once again.  But now it was Tarrin who was doing the pressing, using the momentary confusion Kallan suffered at Tarrin's arm not being slowed by the injury to put the Selani on the defensive.  Tarrin's claws sought him out, but the Selani weaved and dodged them with all the skill and ability as Allia had, making himself all but untouchable even when he was within reach of Tarrin's paws.  The Selani tried to counter-attack with his swords, trying to cut the paws reaching for him, which made Tarrin cautious about trying to reach in and get his claws into the Selani.  Attempts to rake him turned into quick defensive moves to block a sword with his bracers, but Tarrin did not back down, would not relenquish his advantage.  He feigned an outside rake of his claws, then quickly halted his motion and lunged forward.  Kallan's other sword cut him lightly across the upper thigh to deter the advance, and Tarrin buckled slightly under the injured leg.  But when Kallan moved to take advantage of that, he suddenly had the breath knocked out of him as Tarrin's first paw, which had shifted position with Tarrin's buckle, lashed out and between Kallan's two swords and hit him squarely in the chest, knocking him off his feet and flat on his back, his breath wheezing in his lungs.  The collapse around the injured leg had been nothing more than a trick, a feint, for Kallan's weapon would have to completely sever his quadriceps to cause it to collapse under his weight.  Tarrin pounced on his downed enemy, but Kallan quickly got his legs up, catching the Were-cat on his boots and sending him flying over the Selani with a strong double kick.  Tarrin twisted easily in the air, for he always knew exactly how he was oriented in the air and where he was in relation to the ground, landing lightly on his feet as Kallan rolled through his kick-off and gracefully flowed back up onto his feet.
	The Selani shivered his torso in a curious manner, as if to shake off the strike, then gave Tarrin a strangely excited look.  "You're holding back," he declared simply, sliding his right foot back slightly and bowing a little in his stance.
	He wasn't sure how Kallan knew that, but Tarrin was holding back a little.  Kallan was very fragile compared to him, and he didn't want to do the man any real damage.  "I don't want to hurt you," Tarrin replied.
	"Have no care for that," Kallan told him.  "Nothing you do to me can't be healed afterwards.  You should have understood that," he said, holding up his bloodstained sword.
	"I figured Allia told you about that," Tarrin shrugged.
	"About what?"
	"Your swords can't hurt me," he answered.  "They can cut me, but they won't do any actual damage.  Only magic and silver leaves a wound I can't immediately heal."
	"I do nothing with you I didn't do to Allia when I trained her," Kallan told him.  "This is all that makes you hold back?  You can't be injured?  Why would that make you hold back?"
	"You don't understand what it means."
	"Then show me."
	"Fine.  But let it be said that I warned you."
	With a burst of speed, Tarrin lanced in towards the Selani clan-chief with his claws out and leading, as Kallan raised his swords in defense.  Tarrin crashed right into him, completely ignoring the swords, his claws seeking out the Selani's face and throat, which caused Kallan to start in shock and quickly retreat, working his weapons to try to discourage the Were-cat from advancing.  The Selani had seen Tarrin literally catch his spear in his open paw, and he now knew that it did him no real harm.  But Kallan, like many creatures, found it very hard to rationalize just what being invulnerable to non-magical weapons really meant.  What he did not understand, what he had no experience with, was the fact that Tarrin had no fear of pain, no fear of being wounded.  The bites of Kallan's swords were only a minor inconvenience, a momentary sting that would abate the instant the weapon was removed from the wound.  Abandoning fencing and evasion, the Were-cat suddenly inexorably pressed the Selani with a savage roar, claws out as the Were-cat continued to press the smaller enemy.  Regathering himself, Kallan smoothly slipped a sword under the Were-cat's arm and stabbed him shallowly in the flank, ignoring the fact that he could have stabbed him through the heart or throat, inflicting a non-fatal wound--this was only spar, after all.  To his shock, the Were-cat didn't even register that as his claws swiped at the Selani in a massive arc, almost taking off his head.  Kallan ducked feverishly under that blow, but still came up with a pair of bloody lines running low from his cheek and rising up towards the middle of his face.  One went right over his nose, which had been cut more deeply and was bleeding profusely, and the other went up into his hair just over his right eye.  Kallan worked with tight-lipped concentration to keep the Were-cat a good distance away, cutting and stabbing the Were-cat multiple times to get him to back off, but Tarrin completely ignored the wounds, completely ignored the swords, concentrating on getting his paws on the Selani and, as Jasana had said, ripping him into little pieces.  Not even a slash right across the face, which took out his left eye, dissuaded the Were-cat, as Kallan resorted to more and more extreme measures, attempted to dish out progressively more serious wounds in order to convince the Were-cat to back off.  But for every wound Kallan inflicted on him, Tarrin returned it by striping Kallan with his claws.  Tarrin shredded the skin on Kallan's upper body with his claws, sending blood flying with every slash of his clawed paws, as the Selani continued to try to get him to back away, abandoning rules of spar and driving his weapons towards Tarrin's middle and chest.  His left sword plunged directly into Tarrin's midsection, the tip sliding out of his back, but the Were-cat didn't even register the impalement as he finally managed to get his claws into Kallan, digging them into the arm holding the sword that had just stabbed him, dragging him into the Were-cat's deadly embrace.  Kallan twisted the sword in Tarrin's belly out of desperation, real fear showing in his eyes at seeing the Were-cat absorb such punishment, but Tarrin was completely unmoved by the act.  He grabbed the blade of the other sword with his free paw, cutting off his smallest finger as he wrenched the sword out of Kallan's hand and flinging it aside, then he grabbed the Selani clan-chief with both paws--
	--and then put him out to arm's length and set him back on the ground lightly.  "You are dead," Tarrin told him, grabbing the sword sticking out of his gut and pulling it out.  It made a rasping, scraping sound as the blade scraped against his spine, which made a few Selani cringe a bit.  It stung quite a bit, but the pain subsided the instant the weapon was removed.  He handed it back to Kallan.  "Once I get my claws on someone, that's it.  There's nothing they can do to get away from me.  I could have ripped you apart or crushed you like a bug long before you would have figured a way to get free of me."
	"Quite an effective strategy there," Kallan said in shocked respect, looking at the blood all but covering the Were-cat's long body.
	"When I know my opponent can't really hurt me, I don't have to fight," he said bluntly.  "As long as I'm willing to take a few blows, I can overwhelm almost anyone.  All I have to do is get my claws on them.  Once I have a grip on them, they're dead.  I usually don't do that, though.  I treat every enemy like he can hurt me."
	Kallan chuckled.  "You are wise to understand your advantages, and even wiser not to rely on them," he stated, going over and picking up his other sword.  "You use a defense as a weapon.  A commendable tactic.  You could have done that any time," he realized.  "And you used my expectations against me!" he added with a laugh.  "When I cut your leg, you just feigned it affecting you!  You lured me in, baiting me with my own assumption!"
	Tarrin nodded.  "You wanted to test me.  Having me overwhelm you like that wouldn't have proved anything other than I'm alot harder to kill than you expected."  He flexed his paw a little as the buzzing tingle of the newly grown finger began to subside.
	Stabbing the points of his swords into the ground, Kallan released them and slowly started pulling off the Trollskin gloves.  "I think I'm ready to test myself against you without these helping me," he announced.
	"It'll be different," Tarrin stated simply.  "I fight alot differently against someone weaker than I am."
	"I can guess at how it will change your strategy," he replied with a calm look.
	"Let's give it a minute," Tarrin told him.  "It's going to take you a few moments to adjust to taking off the gloves, and give you a minute to try to stop the bleeding.  I don't want any of that affecting you while we fight.  It's unfair to you."
	"Considerate," Kallan smiled.
	"No, I just don't want you suffering any more of a disadvantage than you already have," Tarrin replied.
	Kaila laughed from the side.  "I think you're overconfident, Tarrin!" she called.
	"Posh," Allia said.  "Father doesn't stand a chance now."
	"You don't have my lamp yet, daughter," Kaila said with slyly narrow eyes.
	"You should give it up now," Jasana told her imperiously.  "Nobody can beat my Papa."  She glanced at Allia.  "Well, except maybe Aunt Allia."
	"And what gives you such confidence, kitling?" Kaila asked.
	"Papa only has to hit him once now," she stated bluntly.  "That's all it's gonna take.  Aunt Allia's papa is good at fighting, but he'll never beat my Papa without getting hit, and it's only gonna to take one hit."
	"Posh," Kaila returned.  "Kallan knows that.  He'll make sure he won't be hit."
	"Never happen," the two Were-cat children said in unison.
	Tarrin waited patiently as Kallan paced back and forth, swinging his swords rhythmically to get used to not wearing the gloves, as his bleeding began to subside.  He'd noticed that from Allia; she never bled for very long.  Perhaps living out in the desert had caused the Selani's bodies to stop bleeding quickly to avoid losing too much water.  That, or perhaps the exceptionally dry air evaporated the water out of the blood so quickly that it caused any injury to scab over much faster.  Or perhaps both.
	After a few moments, Kallan set his swords down on the ground and approached Tarrin, obviously meaning to fight unarmed.  In a way, Tarrin understood what he was doing; by giving up his weapons, he was hoping to make his attacks that much faster.  Besides, the swords meant absolutely nothing to Tarrin, so in a battle without the gloves the swords were more of a liability than an advantage.  Kallan was sacrificing the weapons to gain speed, speed in his attacks with his hands, for they wouldn't be encumbered by weapons.  Tarrin hopped up and down in place slightly to work out a bit of stiffness in his ankle, then spread his feet and assumed his wide-pawed, slouching guard stance.
	"Remember, no holding back," Kallan said with eagerness.  "I want to face you at your best."
	"As long as the tribe won't hold it against me if I accidentally kill you," Tarrin returned, "I have no problem with that."
	"They won't."
	"Fine," Tarrin shrugged.
	Tarrin knew that he was going to be facing the Dance at its evasive best when Kallan stepped up and engaged him, using a series of light jabbing punches with his hands to get things moving, coming inside Tarrin's reach.  He knew that if he tried to just swarm Kallan like he did before, the Selani would counter it, would see it coming, so he knew that he had to bide his time, wait for Kallan to make a mistake or for him to get tired, use his superior strength to knock the Selani off balance, or simply outfight him.  Tarrin doubted that he could outfight the Selani clan-chief.  Knocking Kallan off balance seemed the best approach to opening a hole in his defense.  The light jabbing punches came so fast that Tarrin had little time to block them, and every time he tried to grab one of those hands, it darted away before he could close his paw over it.  Kallan seemed to understand that he absolutely could not allow himself to get grabbed, which was only smart for him.  Tarrin didn't respond to those attacks quite yet, watching Kallan's blurring hands to get an idea of his hand speed without holding swords, and get a feel for his fighting technique.  All warriors fell into two very broad categories, depending on their personalities and how they were trained.  A warrior was either offensive, defensive, or a trickster by general nature.  An offensive fighter would attack more than defend, a defensive fighter would defend more than attack.  All warriors used both styles when they fought, but their basic mentality would always fall into one of those three categories.  Allia was an offensive fighter.  Tarrin was a defensive fighter.  Allia had been trained to be highly agressive, to bring down the opponent as fast as possible and avoid protracted combat, though she was brilliantly capable of evasion and defense.  Tarrin had been taught to outlast an opponent, to fluster him into making a mistake, though he was capable of stunningly aggressive offensive flurries when he was angry.  Kallan was also by nature an offensive fighter, as most Selani were, since the basic tenet of the Dance was to use superior speed to down a foe as quickly as possible.  But like Allia, Kallan knew when a defensive strategy would be more prudent.
	That worked in Tarrin's favor.  The easiest way he saw to win this contest was to simply outlast Kallan, irk him into being more aggressive, and then punish him for it.  By their very natures, defensive-minded warriors were much more patient than their offensive-minded counterparts.  He knew that Kallan would be very wary and careful, and would be able to evade Tarrin if he simply charged in and tried to swarm him under.
	Tarrin was sorely mistaken.  Kallan went to light jabs to a powerful straight kick in the blink of an eye, aiming it at Tarrin's chest.  The Were-cat twisted aside to avoid the blow and reached out for the Selani's leg, but Kallan pulled it back and then kicked the inside forearm of the arm reaching towards him.  His eyes registered surprise when the arm did not flinch in the slightest from the blow, for the Selani just didn't have the strength to jar the Were-cat's inhumanly powerful body without the gloves.  He pulled his leg back and sidestepped Tarrin's reaching paw, then spun in a fast, tight circle and dropped, whipping his foot at the Were-cat's ankles in a sweep maneuver.  Tarrin saw it coming and simply dug his claws into the ground and locked the muscles in his legs.  Kallan's foot hit Tarrin's ankle with enough force to make the Were-cat's foot go a little numb, but all the Selani managed to do was have his foot ricochet off the Were-cat's ankle, like it had struck a rooted tree instead of a leg.  The Selani quickly rolled out of reach, his eyes a little surprised, but then he grinned as he regained his feet and came right back at Tarrin as if that were nothing.
	Of course.  Selani were absolutely fearless, and the stronger the opponent, the more they enjoyed the fight.  Kallan was testing himself against a superior opponent, trying to better himself by finding a true challenge.
	Tarrin shifted from defensive blocking to attacking the Selani in order to keep him from getting his wits about him.  Kallan proved he was just as slippery as Allia in unarmed combat, being everywhere but where Tarrin's paws or feet happened to be at that moment.  Tarrin kept on him, kept him from organizing himself by making him literally scramble around for his very life, as lightning-fast sweeps of his clawed paws, feet, and strikes with his sinuous, deceptively long tail prevented the Selani from regaining an attack footing, kept him back on his heels and devoting all his concentration to keep from getting struck.  They both knew that if Tarrin hit him once, it would be over, so Kallan made absolutely certain that that did not happen, not even allowing the most glancing of blows.  Tarrin absolutely could not touch the wiry Selani clan-chief as they whirled about, Tarrin's clawed paws and feet and tail working with great concentration to score a hit on the Selani, while the Selani worked with equal concentration to avoid it.
	As Tarrin made another attempt to swipe Kallan with his paws, the Selani finally managed to figure out how to go about attacking Tarrin.  The clan-chief ducked down, and then rose up with both hands leading, striking Tarrin in the lower stomach and continuing onward.  Kallan had finally realized that Tarrin could only utilize his strength as a defensive tool so long as he had the leverage to do it, and that meant that by striking upwards, preventing the Were-cat from anchoring himself to the ground, it eliminated his strength advantage.  Kallan actually managed to pick the Were-cat up off his feet, a testament to his wiry strength, but Tarrin simply landed back on his feet a couple of spans distant.
	The momentum changed again.  Kallan rushed back in confidently, and it was his turn to press the Were-cat.  Tarrin knew better than to let Kallan hit him in the head, but luckily for him only Kallan's fists could reach that high.  Tarrin slithered around the suddenly offensive Selani just as effectively as Kallan had evaded him, trying to work himself into a position where he could grab one of those flicking arms or legs.  He made several attempts, and each time he tried, he nearly got himself smacked in the head from one of Kallan's other limbs.  Kallan was actively watching for it, and knew that every time Tarrin tried it, he was lowering his defenses by moving out of position in order to attempt to grab the limb that had just struck at him.  Each time he had to frantically evade a punch or kick levelled at his head.  Tarrin realized that Kallan was specifically going for the head, either by accident or design coming to understand that it was his only chance of achieving victory.
	Tarrin had first-hand experience as to just how hard a Selani could hit.  Allia was more than capable of stunning him momentarily with a foot or hand, if she struck him in the head.  His regenerative abilities did not protect him from the stunning effects of a blow to the head, whether the instrument delivering the impact could hurt him or not.  Kallan had adopted a similar strategy, which was probably the only thing he could have done in order to give himself a chance.
	As they continued to dance around each other, it was Tarrin who was getting irritated.  Kallan had proved to be a wily, untouchable opponent, somehow managing to attack Tarrin with feet and hands without allowing the Were-cat to grab the attacking limb before it could withdraw.  He was watchful and very fast to react, for each time Tarrin moved to block or parry a punch or kick with an open paw, so as to instantly close his fist on the wrist or ankle behind the foot or hand attacking him, the Selani instantly pulled back the attack, not allowing the Were-cat even the opportunity to try.  Kallan continued with light, lightning-fast jabs and flicks of his feet, blurringly fast attacks meant more to draw the Were-cat out of position or out of sorts than to inflict damage.  Kallan came on so quickly that Tarrin actually had to take a step back to give him some room, to try to figure out Kallan's technique and find that flaw that would grant him a swift victory.  Tarrin tried again and again to grab his smaller foe, but found himself grabbing nothing but empty air.  He became more and more aggressive about it, until Kallan slipped under his arm and delivered a rocking uppercut with his other hand, catching Tarrin under his jaw and snapping his head back.  The ringing in his ears was replaced by a wheeze when Kallan punched him for all he was worth in the chest, trying to knock the air out of his lungs and strike before the Were-cat had the presence of mind to tense his muscles and use his inhuman strength as a defensive barrier.  The blow had enough behind it to stagger the taller Were-cat back, and he recovered in time to duck under an impossibly high jumping kick the Selani delivered, his entire body spinning in the air, which caused his foot come come screaming around his body so fast that it was nothing but a blur.  Tarrin felt the wind ruffle his bangs and the fur on his ears, fully aware that a blow delivered to his head with that much force very well may have won Kallan the match.  His feet touched the ground and he instantly turned and started pressing the unbalanced Were-cat again, scoring a staccato series of heavy blows on Tarrin's face, almost breaking his nose and jarring a tooth loose.  The blows only succeeded in making Tarrin angry, who suddenly put his ears back when Kallan jumped in the air again to attempt to deliver another jumping spin kick.  This time, however, the Were-cat stood his ground, and swiped the foot aside contemptuously when it came flying towards him.  That knocked Kallan off kilter in the air, and he had to twist around like a knotweed in order to get his feet underneath him before he hit the ground.  Kallan didn't relinquish his advantage, coming right back after the angry Were-cat, who still had the presence of mind to defend his head against that blizzard of lightning-fast attacks.
	But Tarrin had forgotten Kallan's devious fighting nature.  Tarrin evaded or blocked several more blows to his head, and when he saw Kallan lift a foot in a hip-swinging manner that told him it was going to be a high blow, he raised his arm in preparation to block it.  But the Selani lashed out in a downward motion, catching Tarrin so off guard that he didn't have time to anchor himself to the ground.  Kallan's instep struck Tarrin squarely in the ankle, and there was enough force behind it to sweep Tarrin's foot out from under him.  He threw out his arm and tilted dangerously to the side, and to his shock, Kallan grabbed him by the wrist as he darted forward and got behind the Were-cat, then grabbed his wrist with both hands and whipped him over his shoulder.  He was just as shocked that the wiry, slender Selani had the strength to pick up Tarrin's very tall body, as he felt his back slide over Kallan's own.
	It was a clever move, to try to knock the air out of Tarrin's lungs when he hit the ground, and getting behind Tarrin so he couldn't grab hold of him with his free paw, but it was a critical miscalculation.  Tarrin's tail whipped down and around and managed to hook both of Kallan's feet as he threw the Were-cat over his shoulder, and as Tarrin was catapulted over, his tail ran out of slack and pulled taut against Kallan's feet.  Tarrin's own momentum added to the strength of his tail, and it whipped Kallan's feet out from under him and in an upwards arc so fast that his head literally was swept under his own body as he was somersaulted.  The shock of it caused the Selani to let go of Tarrin's paw, and they separated in the air.  Kallan landed on his shoulders and back on the ground, almost exactly where he had been standing, as Tarrin simply got control of himself and landed with both feet solidly on the ground a few spans away, using his free paw as a third limb to steady himself.  He lunged forward the instant his two feet and paw hit the ground, taking advantage of the hard landing Kallan suffered, and was on him before the Selani could roll away.  Tarrin straddled him and held him down with one huge paw over his chest as the other rose up with all five claws extended.  "Do you yield?" Tarrin asked quickly.
	Kallan laughed wheezingly, and put his head on the ground.  "I yield," he announced.
	There was a round of cheers and clapping from the observing Selani, but it was Allia's laughter that Tarrin heard the most.  "They always forget the tail," she chided lightly.  "Tarrin has won more fights with that tail of his than with anything else."
	"Maybe we should pray to the Holy Mother that we have tails," Kaila said with a chuckle.
	"I think it would look a bit silly on us, mother," Allia answered, then she looked at her slyly as she crossed her arms beneath her breasts.  "I seem to recall a certain wager."
	"I really wanted that rug," Kaira said sourly.
	"Ha!" Jasana said triumphantly.  "I told you Papa would win!"
	"Nobody can beat our Papa!" Eron agreed boisterously.
	Tarrin got up and offered his paw to Kallan, who took it with an amused expression.  "That was very clever."
	"You forgot about the tail," he said with a slight smile, waggling the tip of it to draw the Selani's attention.
	"So I did," he admitted, then he smiled slightly.  "By the sands, that was a good fight!  You honor me, Tarrin.  Maybe later, we can fight again.  I might even beat you next time."
	"Kirza, I think you might," he agreed honestly.  "You're good enough to beat me.  You're better than I am.  It's just that I have certain advantages that even the playing field between us, that's all."
	"Well now, I've had my measure of you, and I see that my daughter didn't dishonor the clan when she taught you the Dance.  You are a worthy opponent."
	"Thank you, kirza," he said mildly in reply.  "Allia's honor is important to me.  I'd never do anything to damage it."
	"Well then, let's get cleaned up, and tonight, we feast.  You and I will talk, and we'll see if my daughter taught you the lessons of the Selani as well as the Dance.  If you show me you know our culture, I'd be inclined to accept you into my family."
	"You honor me, kirza," Tarrin told him.
	"The honor will be mutual, if you prove your worth," he said.  "Come, let's go get cleaned up."

	After cleaning up all the blood, Tarrin spent a little time in the tent of Kallan and Kaira.  It was a spartan affair, with but a few packs and satchels scattered through the low-ceilinged tent, the largest items being weapons and the rugs and pillows strewn about the floor of the tent.  Tarrin had to almost crawl in to fit, and couldn't stand even in a stoop inside the tent.  Even the Selani had to duck when not in the center of the tent.  He saw with them with his children and talked to them, as Kallan and his wife lightly grilled him about what Allia had taught him, and for stories of their adventures together.  Tarrin enjoyed that time a great deal, for both of them were intelligent and engaging, and somewhat charismatic.  And like Allia, the sense they projected changed when they were in private surroundings.  Kallan was stern and unyielding when in the eye of his tribe, but in private, he was much more open and personable.  When out in public, the honor of the clan-chief rode on everything he said and did, but in the tent, with nothing but family, he was free to be much more informal.  And Tarrin found that he rather liked him.  Kaira was a very open and friendly person all the time, whether in public or not, and the Selani seemed to accept that as her nature.  She still acted in an honorable fashion at all times, it was just that she wasn't as formal as her husband and daughter.  Dulai, Kallan's sister, acted very stiff in public, and from what he'd seen of her, she acted just as stiffly in private.
	Kallan's light demeanor vanished, however, when Tarrin brought up Allyn.  Tarrin could sense that Kallan disapproved of the Sha'Kar, but he wasn't sure if that disapproval was because he was Sha'Kar, or because Allia loved him.  Fathers were strange that way, wanting only the absolute best for their daughters.  At least in humans.  Tarrin suspected that a Selani suitor would have received a certain amount of disapproval from Kallan, but not as much.  Tarrin figured that as soon as Allyn proved himself, than Kallan would relent somewhat.
	Somewhat being the operative word.  Allyn was a Sha'Kar, and that meant that he had been ingrained with certain cultural traits that no amount of grinding would ever take off of him.  He had the feeling that Allyn would learn the Dance, and perhaps be quite good at it, but he would never, ever use it against another.  Allyn rejected physical violence outright, being the cornerstone of the Sha'Kar society, and it was probably the one issue on which he would not budge.  They may someday be able to get him to hunt, but he'd never fight, even though he was more than capable.  That was a cultural paradox for a Selani, whose harsh environment had instilled in them a legenday fighting ability that was the cornerstone of their culture.  He realized that that was probably why the Selani Priestess of the tribe disapproved of him so strongly, because he'd never truly be one of them.  At least not in the eyes of the Selani.  They were all convinced that he would never earn the brands, and as such, they had every right to do whatever it took to get rid of him as quickly as possible.
	Of course, that would change the instant Allyn took a good brand.  If he could get the brands, it would change everything.  It would mean that Fara'Nae would accept him, and even if he wasn't like the Selani, they would have no choice in the matter.  No Selani would dare presume to think that they knew better than the Holy Mother.  The very idea of it was heresy of the highest order.  Even to think it would bring intense shame to the Selani, so intense that they very well may abandon the clan, feeling that they had lost all honor and therefore were no longer worthy to remain in the clan.
	Well, not all of them.  Tarrin didn't much mind presuming things, but then again, his position and relationship to Fara'Nae was much different than the Selani.
	It all showed him that the more different races were, the more similar they really were when one bothered to look a little deeper.
	Begging off any more conversation, actually just feeling a little claustrophobic in their small tent, Tarrin went outside with his cubs and decided to begin the task which was the reason he was brought to the desert.  It didn't take him long to organize t