A couple of hours passed. The sun made its slow crawling arc through the sky, and the small animals and birds that had once retreated the area gradually began to return. Sounds and evidence of life slowly crept back into the woods, and Faolan began to stir.

The sun had cut a beam straight through a part in the canopy above to land on his dirt-caked face. His eyes slowly fluttered open and he grimaced as the sun blinded him momentarily. For a few minutes, he simply lay there as his eyes and body adjusted to his new, well, his original form. Doing this every night had made him used to waking up like this, so there was no urgency in him as he slowly forced himself to consciousness.

His entire body ached. His muscles screamed when he attempted to move them so he could lift himself from the ground. He tasted blood and dirt, and his tongue was raw from licking rough hide, his jaw creaked from crushing bone, his fingers were stiff from tearing and shredding flesh.

After he felt a little stronger, he slowly pushed himself up to his knees. He was naked, which was no surprise, but he felt cloth slide off his back as he moved. At first, this did not bother him as he took a mental and physical inventory of his body. Despite the pain, there appeared to be no major injuries. He had completely healed, but he was exhausted. He spit into his hands, which were stained with blood, and found that even his saliva was red. He needed to find a stream somewhere to rinse himself.

He braced himself against the ground and slowly tried to rise to a standing position, but his calves gave out after just a moment. He was too weak now, he would have to wait.

That was when his mind drifted to Lucien. Where had he left the lad this time? As he sunk back to the ground, he through out an arm to steady himself and felt the cloth beneath it. Slowly, his fingers closed on it and he pulled it around to his face so he could see. It was a shirt...his shirt, totally intact with just a bit of dirt on it from where he had picked it up. It was not ripped and barely stained...there was no way he had been wearing this when he changed. But, if so...how did it get here?

And then he remembered. Everything came flooding back all at once, and suddenly his heart was pounding so hard in his chest that he thought it would burst. "Lucien." he said to himself, his eyes wild as he forced himself to stand. He cried out in pain as he staggered forward, the shirt clutched in his hand. He took one step forward, and his eyes fell on him.

He was here, sleeping against a tree. But how, it was impossible...impossible unless...

[color=a36209]"Lucien!?"[/color] he called in a raspy, cracked voice. He felt fury, worry, confusion all swirling within him. If he was here, that means he had seen, he knew...had he been hurt? Images, memories, flashed through Faolan's brain and he closed his eyes and clutched his forehead as a headache struck him. It was all too much. He was dizzy and dehydrated and exhausted...he sunk to the ground once more, crashing into a sitting position as he slid himself backward to put his back against a tree.