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innkeeper coming down the stairs.  "I was on my way to cook breakfast."  He scanned the room.  "Where is your friend with the scar?" he asked.
    Aein cursed that Finn had made himself so noticeable the night before.  "He went on ahead," she replied.
    "Really?" asked the innkeeper with some suspicion.  "I did not hear him ride out."
    She flashed him an embarrassed smile.  "Headed out in the middle of the night.  Bit of a lovers' spat."  Finn licked her fingers and she batted his mouth away.
    The man seemed to accept her excuse in part.  "Now what could you do to anger a man like that?"
    Finn looked up at Aein and cocked his head, waiting for Aein's answer.  Aein would have sworn he was enjoying himself.  "People change," replied Aein.  "Now, about that breakfast?"
    The man hustled to the fireplace.  Hanging over the coals from a metal hook was a black cauldron.  He lifted the lid, spooned a mound of porridge onto a plate, and handed it to Aein.  It was better than what she had in her saddle bag and filling enough.  She ate half and put the rest down on the ground for Finn to finish.  She was glad to be done and on her way.  She hoped no one cared there were three horses to one rider now.
    The road was a mess, but not like last night.  The storm seemed to have moved on, but the sky was a milky shade of white.  The dead grass on either side was the color of straw.  The forest beyond was filled with pine trees and scrub.  A woodpecker hammered away in the distance.
    She kept the horses moving at a slow pace and she was glad she did.  Finn gave a whine and stopped.  Running towards them through the woods was Lars, his red hair flashing against the forest like a beacon.  A wave of relief washed over Aein.
    He leaped onto the wet road and slid, stopping himself by grabbing Finn's horse.  "This mud!"  He swung himself up.  "I thought my legs would fall off," he groaned, leaning across the horse's neck.
    "Care to report, soldier?" she asked.
    "After I get a nap," he replied.  "Tie me to my saddle so I don't tip out, would you?" he asked.
    She gave him a shove.  "Report first!  Sleep later."
    Lars became serious.  "I only got one.  The other escaped."
    From the look on his face, it was not for a lack of trying.  Finn came over and rested his head on Lars's boot.  Lars bent down to greet him.
    "They were both on horseback," he said.  "By the time I did what had to be done, the other was long gone.  I tried to catch his scent, but the rain washed it away."
    "Is the first dead?" she asked.
    Lars nodded, scratching Finn behind the ears.  "It will look like an animal attack."
    Aein shivered, remembering Lord Arnkell's keep after the wedding feast.  "Thank you."
    Lars didn't say anything for a moment, just clicked his heels and the horses plodded forward.  Finally, he said, "I hate doing that, especially now that I can remember it all."
    Aein never thought about it before.  The berries brought sanity to the werewolves, but they also brought the ability to remember what happened when they were in wolf form.  Prior to ingestion, no one could remember what it was like before and after the shift.  It was what made the wolves so dangerous.  One moment they were running away from one another, the next, they became the very creatures they were running away from.
    "I am sorry we asked that of you," said Aein apologetically.  "Are you all right?"
    Lars's face hardened and Aein realized she should not have asked him a question which sounded like she doubted his ability to do his duty.  "Of course," was all he replied, shutting down.
    But Lars always had it more difficult than the other wolves.  He had eaten the berry while in human form, so he had been aware of the shift into wolf and how he did not want to become such a beast.  He had not had the berry as a wolf and then remembered the relief of becoming sane.
    Lars's eyes became distant as the sound of the morning larks sang around them.  "Sometimes I