The Summons.
Sasha's entire family was waiting, as the cart slowed in the cobbled street, by the front of her thatched-roofed cottage. The driver helped her from the cart and deposited her pack beside her, then it slowly rolled away. Leaving her to an awkward silence. The young woman found she could not bear to meet her Father's eyes, so she bit her bottom lip, and looked down, waiting for his anger to come. All she felt was the warm crush of his arms encircling her, and a hand gently stroking the hair on the top of her head.
"Oh my beautiful girl never, never, do that again." Were all the words he had. Words delivered without a trace of anger. Just the gratefulness, and relief, of a father who was so glad to have his only, beloved child home, and whole.
Sasha stood with her concerned and loving relatives before the doorway and felt the tears cascade down her face until she was escorted indoors.
*****
The intrepid young woman could hardly believe she had not been scolded for her brash actions, as she sat on her bed, looking out of her open window. The bright sunlight cascaded in, to place a spotlight on the floor. She tried to draw comfort from the normalcy of the sounds of the city below. Yes, after many weeks she was home, but she didn't know if she felt at all comfortable, she was incontrovertibly changed. She could hear people walking the sidewalks conversing, children playing, birds called, and the street vendors hawked their wares. However, could she after her adventure be part of society again?
She gazed about her room, it was a pleasant space, made more so by all the eclectic treasures she had collected over her short lifetime. Looking about her, it was as though she had never made that incredible journey. All in her room was exactly how she had left it, and if it was not for the presence of her pack, and her new bow and quiver, it would be as though her great big adventure and her mighty love had never happened at all.
There lay Graham's diamond ring on her writing desk, just as she had left it. She rose, taking it up and studying it in the palm of her hand. The single-faceted gem felt large and cold, much like she felt a life of marriage to Graham Trias would be. Sasha had promised though, if she could not succeed in her quest, that she would honor Graham's proposal. However, she could not bear to slide it onto her finger, at least just yet.
Not everything though was as it had been before. She smiled as she registered three almost identical envelopes lying there. Unopened letters from her cousin Erin. She gathered them up and again sat on her bed, tearing open the first one so she may hear of her cousin's news. Erin had so much to tell, and Sasha was absorbed in the first missive detailing everything her cousin had learned or struggled with since entering the teachings of the Kirin Tor. She had even met with Lady Jaina Proudmoore!
Sasha was glad Erin had fared so well, and it was most obvious from the tangent of these letters Erin had not been informed of Sasha's disappearance. It was just as well the young woman mused, as she didn't wish for her dearest relative to be distracted from her most important studies.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something move as she made to open the next letter. At first, she thought it was the door, either someone wishing to enter unannounced, or perhaps the movement of the wind, as her window stood open. She studied the room intently and was just about to go back to her reading when the movement happened again, this time accompanied by a high-pitched wine. Her pack teetered, and then fell over, with a loud thump on the wooden floor.
Sasha rose swiftly and loosed the straps that held it shut, whatever was inside was struggling now profusely. As the top opened a shock of snow- white fur tumbled from the bag, and Frostfyre stood shaking herself before her looking rather indignant.
The aspiring hunter's heart soared, and she knew this must have been the work of her beloved. She had no idea how he had managed to keep Frostfyre so calm and still all those hours in the pack. That would possibly forever remain a mystery. He had, despite the raging battle, made sure that Frostfyre would be safe, and that Sasha had finally got her wish of a worg companion. She felt a rush of huge, warm, love for Gorthan in that moment, followed by worry that tore at her sensibilities, so much so that tears flowed.
Where was her love, was he safe? Did he survive the crush of King Wrynn's onslaught?
She hoped so, his loss from her world was too terrible to bear.
The pup looked at her quizzically and ran to her, licking her face with a rapturous joy. Sasha responded in kind, Frostfyre was at least safe.
She again rummaged through the heavy pack, it mostly contained clothing, supplies, and a rather large canteen of water, and then at the bottom, her fingertips struck something familiar, well worn and smooth. She withdrew the item, it was Gorthan's, mother's bone comb. She was sure he had placed it there, that she may never forget. She held it to her breast and cried for her love, while Frostfyre sensing her human's pain licked away her tears.
"Is everything all right?" Aunt Evelyn's face peered about her niece's bedroom door, her voice concerned.
Sasha jumped, startled at her Aunt's unwelcome intrusion.
"Devin... you need to see this," Evelyn called, her voice laden with concern. Almost immediately the sound of heavy footsteps ascending the wooden stairs. Sasha looked at her Aunt wordless knowing the next conversation she had with her Father was not going to be easy.
Devin Wrynn closed the door behind him, as he took his daughter and her canine companion in. At first, he seemed almost amused at the sight before him, that was at least until the realization struck him.
"That pup is not a wolf." He said sternly.
Sasha was tempted to argue and tell an outright lie, but her Father was no fool. She could not hide from his keen eyes that Frostfyre was indeed an orcish war worg.
"I know," she said sheepishly, "but she's a runt, I saved her life."
"Runt or no runt worgs are not like dogs or wolves my girl."
"Frostfyre is different Father," Sasha replied, sensing at once her Father's disapproval.
Devin Wrynn squatted down that he might be level with his teenage daughter to have this difficult conversation. He looked both sad and serious. His dark eyes so like her own bored into hers, and it came as a shock to Sasha as she registered the white beginning to creep into her father's raven-dark hair. At once she felt guilt for the summer of worry she knew she had put him through.
"I know, baby girl, you have been through much, the doctor told me, but you can't keep a worg here. Maybe we can get you a dog, any breed you like, would you like that?"
