It was singing which stopped Alaric in his tracks. He didn't understand the words, meaning it was likely in the local human language of District Eleven. Yet he found the voice pleasing to the ear. It was light and feminine, like feathers dancing upon the wind.

He shook his head at the thought and then froze, watching as his claws retracted and reformed into human hands. With Alaric's emotions as they were it was a miracle he was even able to maintain his current form. Yet, on further examination his heartbeat had begun to calm down and his mind felt clearer than it did even a second before he heard the voice.

Jerald had advised him that because of his momentary lapse in judgement, it might not be wise to appear as a wolf in front of his mate. At least until Alaric had placated her and weaned her off her hormone meds. So even though it was more imperfect than he would have liked, Alaric stayed in his human form and took a deep breath, inhaling a myriad of scents all throughout the forest.

As if he was picking through various strands, he discarded scent after scent until he was sure of the one which would lead him to his heart's desire. At the aroma of jasmines and seawater, he smiled. Pausing only for a second to bask in a smell more intoxicating than the finest wine, before he took off.

When a branch snagged at the ribbon he used to bind his hair in this form, Alaric frowned in annoyance but did not slow down. It had been too long since he ran on two legs. He wasn't as sluggish or slow as a human, but the feeling of sweat and fabric slowly clinging to his skin was a distraction he didn't need. It would have been so much easier if he had paws instead of fingers and toes and fur and instead cloth over naked flesh.

Patience, Alaric. Everything has a time and place. His mental advice to himself spurred him on and with each step he took, the scent became stronger and stronger still until finally he was in front of her.

She didn't notice him, so absorbed was she in her foreign song and instrument. The hair which he had personally cleaned until not a trace of blood remained was once more mangled and dirty, the curly strands flying a million different ways. The nightgown he picked out and had a servant dress her in was torn and covered in patches of mud and earth. Worst was her feet, the unprotected flesh covered in numerous bleeding scratches, blisters and bruises. From her scent, none of the wounds were infected, but they would need to be disinfected as soon as they went back to the guesthouse.

For a while after Alaric just kind of stood there, watching her sing. A part of his brain reminded him that he had made too many mistakes and couldn't afford to make more, but he couldn't find the right words to say. His throat was tight and mouth dry, making any form of speech impossible.

Why couldn't he do anything? Was it a result of the mate bound? No, that couldn't be it. His breathing was too regular.

Was it because of her song? No, she was human and there was no telling if the goddess would gift her with any ability until after the Hunt.

Question after question appeared in Alaric's mind and each time he dismissed them while listening to words he couldn't understand. In the future, he would learn her language. After all, it wouldn't do to have someone so close to him have a tool to keep secrets with. For now, though, all he could do was stand and watch until her song came to an end and she turned to look at him.

Like him, she did not speak, but she also did not look away. At first, Alaric's heart pounded at the thought. Yet, the more he looked into her almost storm colored hazel eyes, the more he began to feel that something was wrong. Then a thought of clarity broke through whatever sorcery was holding him: humans before the Hunt weren't affected by the mate bound. She shouldn't be looking at him like that.

He mentally shook his head thinking, She's probably still in shock. There's a logical reason for this. The thought was enough for him to finally find his voice and ask, "Who was it that forced you to walk out here?"

She laughed, the sound like the cascading waterfalls from his childhood. "My Lord, what makes you think anyone forced me to do anything?"

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"Are you telling me that you walked for so long without any shoes of your own volition?"

"Yes," she nodded. "That is exactly what happened."

Alaric clenched his fist, putting on a false smile. He made the mistake first. The most important thing was to coax her back without putting her into further shock. When they returned, he would ensure she never left his side again. Thus preventing this sort of situation from ever occurring again. For now though, it would only put him at a disadvantage if he were to force his hand.

Be gentle, be gentle, be gentle.

She interrupted his mental mantra when she said, "Is there a reason my Lord is out here too?"

"A reason?" he said, licking his lips. "Yes, you may surmise that there is a reason, but is it really your place to ask?"

"I suppose not." Like so, she resumed her staring.

Even with the mate bound clouding his mind with thoughts of how nice it would be if she would continue to look at him like that for an eternity, Alaric found something disconcerting about her gaze. But what was it? To distract himself from an answer he could not obtain he knelt down, trying not to drown himself in her scent and asked, "Tell me, if you were not forced to walk here, why are you out here all alone?"

"To rectify a mistake." She did not hesitate, even as Alaric felt as if she had shot him with some mortal weapon from the Age of Man, straight through the heart.

"And what mistake was that?"

"When I awoke, I was all alone, separated from the other humans on my bus." She frowned, looking down at her hands. "I don't exactly remember what happened, but I think there were some criminals and I may have gotten hurt and there was a mix up. As a human citizen of this district, I thought it right return to my place, but underestimated how difficult that endeavor would be."

Her words sounded so terribly reasonable. If the situation and logic behind them weren't absolutely absurd, Alaric would have found nothing wrong with her explanation. As it was, she had somehow slipped from a building that everyone swore was locked and instead of waiting like a sane person for someone to come, she left, not only causing problems for himself and the servants attending them, but also damaging her frail body.

"Have I done something to anger my lord?" She titled her head to the side in a mockery of submission.

"No, nothing of the sort." Alaric, in turn, took a deep breath, regaining control of his chaotic emotions. In the next moment, he held out his hand. "Come, your efforts are quite noble. I shall help you return to where you ought to be."

She looked down at his hand and then up at Alaric. Just as he was sure there would be no more problems, she brushed aside some of her messy curls and said, "No, I don't think I'll go with you."

To his credit, Alaric's smile only cracked for half of half a second. "Could I ask why you want to refuse my aid?"

"Well for one, in my current state I cannot walk." She paused, once more making direct eye contact. "For another, you are clearly not from this district and I am but a mere human storyteller. I am afraid that one as lowly as me cannot afford whatever price you would ask for in return for your aid."

There was something so fake about her words. So even though it went against how he planned to approach the topic, Alaric dropped his smile. "I'm afraid you are not at liberty to refuse my offer."

"And why is that?"

"My goddess has blessed us both. You are to be my mate." Before she could offer any of her seemingly polite and obedient responses, he said, "I can either bring you back to be retreated with respect, or carry you over my shoulder like a sack. The choice, my dear, is yours."

Just as he was sure they were done, she asked, "Do you even know my name?"

"Its Ranna."

"And how did you find out my name?"

"From your records." Just why on earth was he still humoring her?

"Then did it ever occur to you to ask me for my name yourself?"

He grit his teeth but said, "We can continue this discussion later. For now, my dear, choose."

"But my Lord has yet to give me your name."

The blasted mate bond made his heart pound. He knew this was just some game, but he couldn't stop the blood rushing through his veins at the thought that she wanted to know his name. It was enough to make him softly say. "Alaric. My name is Alaric."

Her eyes widened slightly, as if she hadn't expected him to just answer her. "Then, A-lar-ic, I would like to keep at least some dignity, but I also ask that you not damage my instrument."

Since there was no one else around, he merely nodded his agreement, helping her to put away her instrument before lifting both her and it in his arms. This might have been a little unexpected, but it was alright. He wouldn't make the same mistakes again.