To my surprise, Elva did not seek me out during free time or even during dinner. From our conversations, I was sure she was going to ask me to tell her some stories to alleviate her boredom. At the very least, her attitude lead me to believe she would check on me to see if I was meeting my socializing quotas, but she didn't. Not that it bothered me much. Without the added stress of having to entertain my betters, I was given more time to strum my oud in semi-solitude.

When I really thought about it, this was the first time in my life I was really alone. There were no screaming baby cousins running around, no mom to nag me to finish my memorization work, no Leyla to tease me or even practice with me. There was just me and although I had my songs and stories to comfort me, the thought of having to deal with solitude for the next couple months was more than a little daunting.

Still the day continued so I ate and practiced and sang and recounted until it was time for lights out. It would have been nice to say being away from home filled my dreams with memories of my home, but I rarely remembered my dreams. Tonight was no exception.

When the alarm sounded for us all to wake up, most of the morning proceeded as normal. I got up and in line for the shared shower. Always the last one out, I took my time walking to the dining car, picking up my allotted breakfast, water and hormone pills. When I sat down in an empty booth, I reached for the pair of sealed pink pills, only pausing when I spotted a flash of bright orange heading my way.

This time the she-wolf plopped down in front of me without any comment. Wondering, if this was some sort of game, I quietly opened the plastic wrappings placing both small pills on my tongue before taking a huge gulp of water. After all, if I spoke first, she might take that as a sign of rebellion and what I wanted was some some stories, not for myself to become the story.

"So you really do take your pills," Elva commented.

Biting into my sandwich of fava beans and scrambled eggs, I chewed slowly to buy me a few precious seconds of contemplation. After swallowing, I wiped my mouth with a napkin. "Is there a reason why I wouldn't take them?"

"There's someone I know of who would prefer taking a beating over swallowing his needed medication." I stayed silent, waiting for her to continue and like a spell was cast over her, Elva said, "To be honest with you, I don't know how human-wolf interactions are treated here, but I'd normally never talk with one of your kind out of choice."

Then why did you approach me first? Instead of voicing my inner thoughts, I simply regarded her with open curiosity, allowing her to feel in control of the conversation.

Like clockwork, Elva revealed, "But the day after I arrived, someone back home told me that I'd been matched and with a human of all things. I haven't met him yet but from what I'm told, you both have similar personalities."

"How so?" I looked downward as I spoke, focusing on the texture of the flatbread.

"They say he never had any problems until he was called to the Capital for testing. He was quiet and filled in his socialization quota in his ward, but like you, he seemed to prefer solitude to company once he left his home." She paused, glancing around and then whispered, "I am told that rather than waiting for me, he has tried to run away three times, gone on a food strike and that even when beaten, the spark of rebellion always remains in his eyes."

Not entirely sure how to react to this, I watched as she leaned back into the leathery seat. "So tell me Storyteller, why would someone willingly hurt themselves over and over again when they could be offered a life far grander than anything they could have ever achieved?"

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Perhaps a different person would have cared more about betraying her own kind, but I had no ties to this man or anyone in District Three. He was not my kin nor my friend nor my mate. Even if we did have a similar temperament, there was no reason why I should threaten my wellbeing by lying to his mate so that he may have some peace of mind.

So I answered, "In our stories are those people where no matter how much you beat and torture them, they will never give in, choosing to suffer until their death rather than to betray their ideals. It is likely that your mortal mate is of this sort."

"Are you trying to tell me you are also of this sort?"

"Perish the thought," I chuckled. "I have never been so strong. If I was in the same proverbial boat as your mate, I would sooner off myself."

Elva frowned. "I cannot and do not want to understand why someone would choose such an ending, but in your opinion what are the reasons why someone in my mate's position would cling onto life?"

After taking another bite of my sandwich, I asked, "First, may you tell me how the humans are treated in the third district?"

"Of course." She leaned back, a faraway look in her eyes. "To be honest and it might be because of the climate, but your Councilman is much more lenient with mankind than anyone in my ward would be. Naturally, this doesn't include our mates but District Three is a land of ice and snow. Our summers are short, but even then we have a midnight sun. Likewise, our winters are long and the sun rises for only a few short hours a day.

"In such an environment, our Councilman's duty is to the werewolves first and all other creatures, even—no especially—humans are an afterthought. It is why our laws are strict, even to other werewolves. In such an environment, any traces of rebellion are immediately dealt with swiftly and without mercy. The humans know not to ask for more than what they are given because even that is more than enough." She looked into her hands, a deep frown marring her strong and beautiful features. "He is not from some other district. He should know what would have happened to him if he wasn't my mate so why is he acting out like this?"

"Perhaps even in the existence you find so pitiful, there is something which he values enough to go against you." It was as if I could see the gears in Elva's mind turning by way of her jaw clenching and focused glowing eyes so I continued, "It is only by the grace of your kind that we may continue our stories, poetry and songs. Yet in those tales, the victor is not the strong. Rather it is the people who are weak and struggle to hold onto what little they have who know how to weep and love the strongest."

"Stop speaking in riddles," Elva all but barked out.

"Very well." I bowed my head once more, but my words were clear and firm. "In any relationship, force will lead to an undesired outcome. Rather, if you want to bring him to your side, you need to see the world as he sees it, not as how you, yourself, perceive it."

Elva demanded, "Give me an example."

"In your district, do the nightingale roam the trees?"

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What on Earth is a nightingale?"

"It is a bird," I began. "Yet, in my people's stories, we have elevated it to a symbol of freedom and love."

She tilted her head to side. "What is so special about this bird?"

"They say the nightingale, much like our masters, only loves once." I looked up at her, smiling softly. "And that it knows hundreds upon hundreds of songs. Yet, it shall only ever sing for its beloved. No matter how you try to capture or beg it, it will not sing for another."

Elva leaned back, pushing her hair away from her face. "What a foolish creature."

"Yes," I agreed. "I suppose you can say that, but like the bird I speak of, we humans cannot help cling onto what is ours, no matter how much happier we'd be if we just let go."

Just as Elva opened her mouth to respond to me, a bell rang out letting us know that breakfast had ended. This time it was my turn to stand up and walk away, leaving her to whatever it was werewolves with uncontrollable human mates thought about.