Stray slept and when she did she dreamt of wolves.

Wolves howling for her, singing for her. Their voices rising in cacophony and making her blood burn. Darkness and fur whispering against her, her breath coming quick and short at the sensation of it. The memory of it almost a pleasure, the first that touch had provided in oh so long. Yellow eyes, copper eyes staring back at her out of the darkness. Taunting her and calling her for their own. The girl tossed and turned, tangled in something she couldn’t quite understand the nature of. Skin hot, sticky, almost-inhuman as she lay there, the beating of her heart sounding like a drum inside her chest. Hazel-golden eyes peered through the gloom to meet her own for a second and as soon as they did she felt her heart stutter slightly. Every muscle straining, shaking, quaking. The weight of her skin dragging like a swell-tide against her strength. She was shivering, every sense on alert, every nerve stretched to breaking point. Uncertainty whether she should be running or staying still hissing through her bones. And still there were those hazel eyes, those familiar and yet unknown hazel eyes peering down at her-

She awoke with a start to find them looking right at her.

Though this time- slightly to her disappointment- they appeared to belong to a man.

He was sitting across from her, massive arms crossed in front of him. A book folded on his knee, a scythe leaning to his left. He looked tall, though not overly so, and stocky; His hair fell messily about his ears and his hands looked hairy, veined and strong. His face was handsome, she supposed, though not in the way she was used to: She couldn’t imagine the boy she’d been betrothed to, David, ever growing to be a man such as this. And yet, and yet… She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him, and most certainly didn’t want to. Any more than she could stop the way her body flooded with… awareness of his presence. He was peering at her with an almost uncanny focus, his brow drawn in concentration or maybe anger. The notion that he was somehow unhappy with her one that she couldn’t ignore. Stray frowned, her heartbeat picking up as she tried to sit upright, the image of the wolf from last night flooding her mind-

It was then that she (belatedly) realised she was naked.

The hazel-eyed man made a point of looking away.

“She’s awake, Red,” Stray heard him growl then. His massive form raising itself from the chair he was sitting in, turning his back to her as he strode across the room. Stray only had the time to notice what a large, thick frame he had (Was he a hunter? She wondered. A woodsman? What was he to the wolf who saved her?) before the door to the room opened of its own accord and two women walked through it. One carrying an apothecary’s bag, the other a tray of food and water. As they got nearer the girl realised with a start that they were identical, both red-haired and slender and elegantly lovely as the blue-haired wolf had been. The one carrying the tray grinned at her slyly, the one carrying the apothecary’s bag taking the chair the hazel-eyed man had vacated. Smiling as reassuringly as she could- Which didn’t seem reassuring at all. She reached out to take Stray’s wrist and instinctively the girl moved to withdraw it-

You needn’t fret child, she heard a woman’s voice chime in her head. I know all about your Curse, and it will not effect me. Without a moment’s warning the sheets of the bed began rearranging themselves to cover her though Stray couldn’t see the hand which did it. The girl gave a startled little yelp of surprise and instantly the hazel-eyed man was at her bedside. One large, hairy hand reached out as if to comfort her though he didn’t actually make contact with her flesh.

“Quit showin’ off, Gold,” he muttered darkly. “Girl’s been through enough, without adding you girls’ little conjuring trick t’the list.”

The twin who had been carrying the tray grinned; It might have been reassuring if it hadn’t had such a mocking edge. “Why is it you always assume the worst of me, Logan?” she drawled. “Since we both know Red-” she nodded to her sister- “Would never let me get up to any real mischief with a newcomer.” And the sheets flattened themselves down, no longer moved by that unseen hand.

This didn’t appease the man though. “Red ain’t the only one standing between you and mischief Gold,” he snapped, “And don’t you forget it-”

“Nobody’s likely to forget it,” the twin- Red?- who had brought the apothecary’s case said softly. “Now please calm yourself before you lose your temper. Both of you.” She nodded to Stray. “As you pointed out, our guest has been through enough.” And she made a point of pulling out a pair of old opera gloves, showing her hands to Stray so she could see her put them on. “I was told of the fight,” Red said softly, as if Stray had spoken her unasked question aloud. “Just as I was told that you tried to use your Gift on the wolf which attacked you. I don’t need to use these gloves, my Gift protects me. But I can see how agitated my being without them makes you, your mind’s practically screaming it-”

It clicked into place in her head and Stray narrowed her eyes. “So your Curse is that you can hear thoughts?” She had heard stories of such things but never believed them. Then again though, she’d never believed one could simply wake up one day Cursed and look at what happened to her.

“Yes, Stray, I can hear your thoughts.” The other twin, Gold, snickered at the name Stray had chosen for herself and the girl shot her a filthy look. If Red saw this she paid it no heed. “Just as Logan here can heal from any injury conceived of by mortal man, just as my sister here can move things without physical touch. Everyone in our troupe has a Gift, each one in its own way as powerful as yours-”

“Does your “gift,” kill?” the girl asked bluntly.

“Were I to choose to use it that way then yes.”

“Well then it’s not much of a Gift, is it?” She nodded towards Gold, who looked irritatingly smug. “And being able to choose to kill is not the same as being unable to stop yourself.” From the corner of her eye she saw the man Logan stiffen; Suddenly he was staring at her very hard. “I have a Curse, Mistress Red,” she murmured. “I don’t ever forget that. For your own sake, neither should you-”

And she dropped her gaze down to the sheets she was tangled in, not wanting to let strangers see how much the thought of what she was effected her.

She felt a small hand land on her shoulder then.

“We are not the sum of our Gifts,” Red said softly. “None of us are.” Though she was speaking the words to her, the girl couldn’t shake the feeling that they were directed at the others in the room. Once again she heard Logan growl. “We have been made different- special- for a reason. And if we learn to control our powers and do what good we can in the world, we will discover that reason-”

He was out the door and slamming it behind him before she could even finish speaking. A moment later a grinning Gold followed suit, the knowing glint in her eye for some reason setting Stray’s teeth on edge. The apothecary saw her staring at the closed door and smiled, though the girl couldn’t help but notice it didn’t reach her eyes. “Like you, Logan struggles with what he thinks his gift has made him,” she explained softly, answering the unspoken question. “He is unwilling to see himself as others see him, no matter how much good he does.” She shook her head, half amused, half affectionate; For a second Stray’s own mother popped into her mind. “He spends so much of his life ashamed of his Gift I’m surprised he has time to do anything else. Don’t let his moods upset you.”

“Why would anyone be ashamed of being able to heal?” the girl asked softly. She knew she was staring at the spot where he’d but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

The room felt…empty without him.

Red sighed. “Like yours, his Gift is more…complicated than it would first appear. And like yours, it can cause great harm if not properly controlled.” Again she shook her head, removing her apothecary’s instruments from her case. None of them looked as vicious or as barbaric as those Stray remembered from the apothecary’s shop in her own village and for that she was grateful. “Logan has helped us so many times, saved so many of us. He is the bravest, fiercest fighter I have ever met. But he thinks that his Gift…taints him, and that blinds him to his potential.” Red gave her a small, slightly teasing smile. “And you can see how much potential he has, can’t you girl?”

Stray felt red stain her cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said stiffly.

Red looked unconvinced. “We have many women here with us, in the Company of Miracles,” the older woman said. “Many of the have been saved by Logan. Many of them count him as friend. If you stay with us you may have the opportunity to do likewise…”

The image of the wolf stalked behind her eyelids and Stray couldn’t bring herself to push it away. “So that’s what you call yourselves?” she demanded instead. “The Company of Miracles?”

Because she didn’t want to admit how intoxicating she found the idea of learning to count Logan as a friend.

The apothecary shrugged. “It seemed to fit. We are travelling entertainers; That is why we were so far from the King’s Road when we found you; Our way had been blocked by snow.” She began tapping against Stray’s wrist, taking her pulse, suddenly all business. The girl got the impression Red had made this pitch before. “If you wish to stay with us, you would have a place here. You might become one of our entertainers, or you might choose to work behind the scenes. It would depend on what suited you best.” She hummed to herself, apparently liking whatever Stray’s pulse was telling her. It occurred to the girl that it was strange such an educated woman had taken to life on the road. “This life is hard,” Red said, once again reading her thoughts, “But good, for me at least. I know my husband feels the same. Besides-” A brief, friendly smile split her face, “What is this life without the possibility of adventure? And if you seek adventure then I would advise you to try your hand at befriending Logan; I have never seem him watch as diligently over someone as he watched over you.” Her gaze turned shrewd and Stray shrank beneath it. Once again she thought of her own mother, though this time the recollection brought no joy. “You would do well together, you and he,” the older woman continued more softly, “I know you see it-”

Stray spoke over her. “I see nothing. Only a wolf last night who defended me. Bring that poor beast here and I will give it my thanks.” And she crossed her arms stiffly, not knowing what else to do. The question of the wolf which had defended her and its relationship to Logan setting her nerves on edge. Any talk of being friendly with that strange, hazel-eyed man would only bring talk of other men- other wolves- she had been friendly with. Only bring talk of where she had come from and what she had once thought she was destined to be. And there was nothing in the world which would prompt Stray to allow that. So she sat still and let the apothecary check over her, giving only one word replies to her questions. Trying to snuff out the image of that hazel-eyed wolf that still lurked at the back of her eyes. Perhaps the older woman read her resoluteness through her body language. Perhaps her thoughts were really just that easy to read. But the apothecary fell silent and did not mention Logan for the rest of the examination-

Stray neglected to ask again about the wolf she had seen, and Red studiedly did not attempt to bring it up.