"You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts."

― Kahlil G.

"I'm going to end up as a meal, aren't I?" River asked after waking up in an enormous tent that looked a lot like those fancy tents she had seen in pictures of glamping resorts.

She couldn't help staring at a golden glow through the fabric stretching across the walls of the tent. It was early morning light pouring in through rough fabric and its glow washed throughout the room. It gave her an odd sense of home, a nostalgic feeling that got her wistful for a better life.

They had sent her to a dome-like tent with a bed that was thrice the size of a normal bed. These warriors were built like a tall Mack truck but damn she hadn't expected to wake up in an opulent bed filled with soft feathery silk sheets.

It was morning and by the looks of it, things hadn't started making sense yet. Rover and his friends were gone and she had to find a way back to normalcy. Back to her familiar place where everything made sense.

When the warriors picked her up in the amber grasslands, they began to travel for their village. During that trip, they had fed her a trail mix of nuts and gave her a folded brown pouch packed with dried beef jerky.

It was a long way from the challenge arena to their main village but these werewolf warriors had spent most of an afternoon jogging on foot while she had munched on her only meal that day on wolfback. She might have fallen asleep between her meals because she woke up feeling refreshed like a tiny Thumbelina with a large yellow wolf sprawled across the bed right beside her in a colossal tent fit for giants.

Not bothering to answer her future fate, the wolf continued to regard her with a steady watchful look.

River bit her lip, remembering that she had just watched this wolf transform from a man. It was a view from a great careful distance so she didn't really know what he looked like as a human. Merely that he was blonde, tall, crazy strong and people loved the hell out of him. And somehow having him consider her as food and not as a person was quite upsetting. There are more important things to worry about but somehow, on the off-chance these were all products of her fragmented mind, shouldn't everything in this universe be centered around her?

She hasn't fully shrugged off the notion of hysteria and delusions. If she had learned anything from reading too many fairy tales, it was to start going about her strange situation like Alice in Wonderland. In that case, she would have to find the center of her troubles to get a clue on how to get back to normalcy. Perhaps that was the key to waking up from this nightmare.

Follow the yellow brick road, she told herself, wondering about the huge soulful eyes staring back at her. "I was thinking if it were up to me, I would never bother to name my food, you know. I imagine it makes it easier to eat something if you knew it didn't have a life to go back to. I mean- who does that? Give their food a name. It's weird." she shrugged, bumbling whatever came to her head. "Is that what this is? Do you get to feel bad when your food has a name because it implies I have a real life and a real family waiting for me back home?"

The wolf chuffed, his snout nuzzling into her hair, inhaling her scent deep as his furry paw was weighing down on her stomach. It reminded her that she was trapped under him, unable to move if she tried.

She should be affronted. But the bed was filled to the brim with the softest feathers, dipping her further down under the silk sheets like she was being hugged by heaven itself.

Then, a huge ache in her body bloomed at every slight movement. Sore muscles began screaming murder. That wild rainforest & mountain adventure was no joke. She didn't think she would have made it out if yesterday had been her first time getting lost in the mountains.

Cursing her sore muscles, she opted to bargain with him instead of fighting back on instinct. "If I tell you my name, will you not eat me?"

When he didn't reply, she figured telling him her whole life story, how her grandparents died in a car accident, and that she can cook up a storm of gourmet dishes in one fell swoop like it's nobody's business.

"My name ish-moomwoob"

The wolf had sunk his claws in a pillow to smother her face with it.

"Don't!" someone squeaked. The pillow was pulled off almost immediately.

The wolf chuffed again, bringing down his head between his paws to rest.

There was a little plump girl with golden hair that went past her waist, wearing a heavyset of glasses and an orange cape over her leather dress. "You are behagthi" she said with a wide-eyed look, holding the pillow in the air like a weapon.

"As much as everyone keeps telling me that. I don't know what it means. Am I about to be cooked and eaten?"

Mouth gaping open, she got offended and squeaked out a "No!" then pointed to the wolf cozying next to her, "This is my sun prince."

The strangeness of the situation slapped her like a bag of bricks. Sun prince?

Taking in the anxious girl across her, she said slowly "You don't seem like you believe that."

"I still haven't wrapped my head around it. No one has ever fully shifted like this in decades. Look at him, he's a colossal giant if I've ever seen one."

It seemed like River wasn't alone in experiencing strangeness. Come to think of it, the warriors had looked spooked yesterday. Not only at her, but all the more frightened of the giant wolf carrying her.

Both of them stared at the wolf for a few moments.

Suddenly, the girl burst out laughing. "It is him, all right. Still ordering me about like I'm his apprentice. Says he has gotta feed you but he hasn't found a way to change back."

"He talks to you?"

"Yes. I don't know how you can't. He says he tried to in the same way he talked to everyone else, but with a behagthi like you it's hard to make any serious chances. No one really knows what to expect of you."

Pursing her lips, River crossed her arms.

The girl pushed up her glasses, canting her head to the side "There. Don't you hear that?"

"No."

She frowned, "He says you smell like the Dumuzid forest after a heavy rainfall."

A dried-out muddy nightgown might do that, she thought and glanced down to find she slept in dirty clothes. "I did trek through a rainforest for hours on end yesterday"

"That must be why." the girl said weakly, unsure.

Her necklace gifted by her grandmother was thankfully around her neck, and she clutched it wishing for confidence. "Do you think.." she started to ask, already embarrassed for how she was dressed "..it's possible for me to have a wash?" Looking around the dome structure of the tent, there was a sturdy iron basin with a barrel full of water next to it.

"Of course." she said, putting down her pillow and gestured for the wolf "It is just as well because the king and queen have requested for my sun prince. We'll be right back, or maybe longer. I don't really know when we will be back. Nevermind. After you're done, hop on to the bell tent next to this one to your left. Russ'lo is there and he has extended an invitation to feed you breakfast."

The wolf tensed to a stop but the plump girl herded themselves outside quickly before saying, "Oh by the way, I'm called Lei'la."

"Nice to meet you, Lei'la!" she called after her, not even sweating about her strange name. But they were already gone.

It was nice knowing that she wasn't going to end up on a meat platter. Somehow with dinosauric birds, people wearing fresh leather, and no evidence of technological advancement, she didn't want to put cannibalism past them until it became very clear that any savage human-eating rituals are definitely not on the table. The few people she had met from this village were insistent to designate her as "behagthi" with a tone of awe-inspiring reverence attached to it.

She shuddered at the thought of being pegged as a religious icon or being put to a pedestal of impossible divine ideals. One way or another, they ended up being sacrificed.

She began washing her skin over the wet basin with a rug. On the sides of the basin were lush violet berries scattered about haphazardly. With a splash in the water, she pinched a violet berry between her fingers and found that it made soapy suds. She smelled it and giggled. It smelled just like the wolf; peachy fragrance with a touch of honeyed sugar.

Then, her glance fell down to a wooden chest located at the bottom board of the bed. On top of it was a couple of folded clothes. A pair of them: one set was a bulky shirt with pants and the other was an orange leather dress. She wanted to be practical and wear the pants but she opted with the stunning dress for comfort, because somehow it reminded her of her grandmother.

It isn't like I'm going to die today, she thought. She was hoping her survival trek was over and done with, belonging to the past, hoping she could put it behind her now.

On second thought, the pants offered better mobility if she ever had to go through another stint of survival. Or maybe, she should wear it together?

Looking back, she noticed Lei'la wearing a dress without pants. So, maybe she should choose from the two sets of clothes in front of her. Then again, the bulky shirt and pants must be for the wolf once he changed back to a man.

Leather might be primitive in and of itself, but the orange dress was nothing less than elegant. It had ropes of red threading through the leather that brought out a visual geometry of patterns. It was a hardy beautiful dress held by thin straps of leather on the shoulders. Along with it was a long orange cape with a hood. It had a coarse thick fabric that was made for braving out the cold weather, but when she fixed the silver wolf clasp around her neck, the orange material was cascading down up to her ankles and the feeling of its weight around her shoulders was no lighter than a feather.

Biting her lip, she made a decision. She was wearing the dress, not the pants. It seemed like the right decision, she thought, staring at the body length mirror and studying how the dress fitted to her form. Its leather hide resting against her skin was impossibly soft. She had never worn a leather dress before, but this one gave all the right places a snug comfy fit.

Once she arrived at Russ'lo's bell tent, he had a campfire flaring at the heart of his living space. A stewing pot was seated right above a fire, and what he cooked in that pot wafted a sweet overpowering scent. He was stirring the pot with a deep frown that almost looked like disdain. "Kiyerlia porridge" he announced when she came in, then gestured for her to sit on a log bench next to him "It is widely beloved for its sweetness."

"You don't like it?" she asked cautiously, receiving a bowl of his porridge as she sat. He didn't offer a spoon, so she took a sip by placing her mouth around the edge of the bowl. Immediately, a paralyzing freeze started from the bottom of her spine and ended up between her shoulder blades. Her mouth suddenly refused to move a muscle as the Kiyerlia taste sat on her tongue.

Russ'lo saw her startled expression before she could hide it then he shook his head, "I figured as much."

It took all of her willpower to gulp it down, it was like swallowing liquid glue but its taste was far sweeter than anything she has ever tried before. She gave a little smile, "I'm guessing it's an acquired taste? I haven't been around in this world that long, I don't know what to like."

He sighed, rubbing his hand through the back of his head with brown curls trembling from the onslaught "It's my fault, I apologize. It isn't for me to assume what sort of dish you would like, I should have brought a whole selection."

"No apology necessary." she waved off, "You were welcoming, and I appreciate it very much."

He nodded with a grim look set on his face.

An odd silence fell.

She busied herself by looking around, "Your home looks lovely."

His tent boasted a tall domed ceiling but his furniture was sparse. It had a wooden chest, a dresser, a birch bed in the far corner and multiple display boxes that were empty. But its wonderful feature that made it so cozy were the wall tapestries hanging on both sides of his tent. In it were stylized patterns of figure and shapes looking like it told a full complete story.

"Most women prefer sweet dishes, such as this one." he said, talking to the terracotta-tiled floor, his cheeks turning beet red. "I'm told adventurous ones prefer them with lots of spice and those with old souls, like our elders, prefer their food bitter. But what behagthis prefer are not in the scriptures, I'm afraid."

"May I ask which you are?"

"Neither."

"So you prefer eating your food with no taste?"

He nodded, "Yes." and gave a light chuckle "Isn't that weird?"

"No, it isn't. I'm actually very grateful. Before coming here, I had no idea what my fate looked like. Your concern is very much appreciated, truly. I'm glad in knowing that we can be friends."

He gave a sheepish smile before his eyes pulled back to the floor, "Me too."

"I haven't had any problems in my stomach when I ate those trail mixes yesterday, maybe I can have those again?"

His look turned incredulous, "That isn't breakfast. An honored guest should be having a full complete meal."

"Well," she licked her lips, "do you mind if I take a look at your food? I'm sure I'll be able to recognize what I can or can't eat, if it helps."

"Food stores" he nodded, pointing to an open archway entrance leading to a smaller dome-like tent that adjoined to his main tent

"I would rather have us both enjoying our food, do you mind if I choose in your food storage? I'll be happy to make something for us"

"No, not at all. To be honest, I'm glad you offered." he said, carrying an iron pot full of bubbling porridge. "I'm gonna go right outside and dump these out in the back for the strays. I'm not so sure why I thought making it was such a good idea."

She hesitated, "Am I being a difficult guest?"

"No." he said, his expression growing tender "Frankly, it is not usual for me to be inviting guests. I figure my inexperience leaves a lot for me to learn on being a good host."

"Why is that?"

"My work takes me everywhere. Warming guests in my home seemed trivial" he said, leaving for the backdoor.

When he went out, River surveyed the smaller tent that was serving as a food storage. Tons of wooden barrels lined up, crafted boxes stacked on top of each other, and dead animals strung up by strings to dry. Remembering he liked his meals in a bland taste, she avoided the meat stack and opted to use some trail mixes of nuts, dried fruits and pale blue eggs. Cracking an egg into a carved bowl, she found that apart from the pale discoloring it tasted just as well as the eggs she was used to. Next, she tested the glass jars lined up on a stack of boxes. They were full of different kinds of spices and dry herbs. Its coloring wasn't what she was used to though, the salt was pink and sugar was blue. The chopped up chives were yellow but they tasted as well as they were supposed to. Opening up clay jars revealed milk and butter, both of which, were colored orange like the amber grasslands that surrounded the tribal village. With a tripod and an iron pan over the central fire, it didn't take long to finish making two dishes of omelette with nuts and dried fruits. She sat on the log bench, staring down at her meal then to the food storage again, wondering where they put the bread at.

A few minutes later, Russ'lo appeared in the front entrance, ducking his way in. "Sorry I took so long, I ran into one of my students who was asking about some sources on a research scroll. Poor little fool didn't know how to look for a bibliography." He stopped dead in his tracks, eyebrows raising at the breakfast plate sitting on his log bench beside the fire. "What is that?"

"Breakfast. And I'll be damned if you don't like it. Breakfast is usually the kind of thing that makes the chef a chef." she shrugged, forking a blue omelette "if you know what I mean."

"I honestly don't know what you mean." With a heavy thud, he settled down on the bench next to her.

"It means that a chef is only as good as the breakfast they make." She said, handing him his plate.

"What is a chef?"

"Someone whose job it is to cook food."

He frowned, "How is that a job? Everyone can cook."

"Where I come from, not everyone can do it well."

He took a bite, chewed it slowly and took another bite again. This time with his eyes closed. "It never tastes like this."

"Minimal taste and a balanced ratio of condiments will do that." she said.

He shook his head, brows drawn down while he chewed, looking at his breakfast like it confused him.

They both sat in silence as they ate.

"Can we address the elephant in the room?" she said, then quickly followed it up when Russ'lo gave her a disgruntled look "It's an expression I was trying to say tha--"

The murmur of voices rose outside and then flaps of the front entrance began to pull away revealing the tallest man she has ever seen. He had brown shiny hair and strong shoulders, an imperious chin jutting out as he entered.

She gulped at his heavyset build, the man simply put all the wrestlers she had ever seen to shame.

"Your Highness!" Russ'lo stood in attention, moving away slowly from his line of sight with a deep bow.

"How has it come to pass that a behagthi like you is catalytic to our son's change?" he gritted, his voice calm but she noted his fists were clenched and a furious vein was popping out on his temple.

A soulful howling sounded at a distance. A howl that she had come to familiarize with the giant wolf.

"Release him immediately" the shrill voice of a woman screeched after him. She ducked through the flapped entrance with a snarl, pounding against the angry man's bicep with a loud resounding crack. She looked to be in her 40's, a few years older than the angry man next to her. She had a long train of leather dress that went past her feet, and a fur-lined orange cape that closed over it. The man she was clutching to with a snarl had a long purple tunic with a leather belt cinched over it, and a fur-lined red cape to go over his shoulders along with blue boots to match his stormy eyes. "Release him now" she repeated.

Then, he swiveled to the blonde woman who was equal to his grand height "Not until we get to the bottom of this."

She didn't realize it was possible for someone to be taller than Russ'lo, but the arguing couple in front of her put everyone to shame with their imperious heights.

"If I may, your highness." Russ'lo said.

"Speak, then." he clipped, the man had a grey beard and thick brows that made his scowl look even more thunderous.

Russ'lo rose from his bow, straightening his shoulders and began speaking in a clear earnest tone "I have long been ruminating about this unexpected situation since yesterday and I find the answer is simple." he said, clearing his throat.

"Go on." the woman squinted at him, placing her hands on her hips.

"As expected, the last blow to the Champion of Age has caused the change in our sun prince, making him our true heir of the prophecy. The arrival of a behagthi is plainly a coincidence that happened to tie-in with our prince's full transformation. Like I said, a coincidence, your highness. Bla'keh should know better."

He crossed his arms, "And how is it that our sun prince has shared his private quarters with a behagthi?" he spat.

"Over a millennium has passed since we've seen a sun prince transform to a full wolf, your highness. I'm sure it was his primal territorial instincts that must have dictated him to keep vigilance against a behagthi in order to protect the tribe. Keeping her in sight at all times meant sharing his private space."

"It makes sense, Roxo." the woman said, "Now calm down and let him free."

The man named Roxo wasn't chastised. Instead, he stared at River for a brief minute, unmoving, like he was conflicted on what to do next before turning away to leave with his woman clinging to his arm.

"Well, that was shocking." she said "And a bit rude. Do you mind explaining what just happened?"

Russ'lo looked shaken, paling in shock, "I apologize on their behalf, behagthi. The full transformation of our sun prince to a wolf took us all by surprise. Even as yesterday's events were foretold by a thousand year prophecy it had been going well as expected until—" he stopped, his brows drawing together "I must come after them before they incite the wolf any further. There is no telling what they might do."

River faced him, clenching her fists, "I'm getting worried over here, Russ'lo. I have no idea what's going on, or what I'm supposed to do, or heck, how I even got here. I was promised answers, and I'm calling it now. I need to know if I'm safe, or if I'm causing problems. Because I could have sworn that guy just looked to me like he was considering murder."

He ran a hand through his brown hair, "You will get those answers." Opening a chest drawer from the foot of his bed, he dug up a hefty battle axe, then he began wrapping it up in a roll of rugged leather. "Here, take this to the smithery. You're looking for a blacksmith called En'tum"

River caught him by his arm when he turned to leave by the entrance, "What do you mean by calling me "behagthi"?"

He looked taken aback, "Do you not know this? You seem to communicate with our language just fine."

She rolled her eyes, exasperated "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't know."

"Ah." A tiny smile curved at the corner of his mouth, shaking his head "Behagthi means outsider in our first language. The language is luridly ancient but we still use it in our ceremonies. However, you shouldn't have to worry about being called an outsider. I have a positive feeling you would fit right in, don't worry about it."