For the next few days, the mornings remained the same: people brought him tributes, the old woman guided him around to places she said needed blessing, and he watched over his kittens.

He was restless, and did not like being confined. Up until very recently, he spent each day following Helna around, running all over the mountain and its valley.

This time, in the morning, he ate, he accepted tribute, and then he flounced down from the wooden platform, walking past the crowds of people.

" Lady Hélna?" the old woman questioned, uncertain about his change in behavior. Sif looked over his shoulder and flicked his ear, then returned to going down the street.

The cats watched him with interest, and the chickens scattered when he went near them. He peeked his head inside of some of the houses, and then decided too many people were staring at him. He darted between two of the houses, looking at the yards of worked soil behind them, the coops and animal pens.

But he was being pursued.

" Lady Hélna, is something wrong? Why have you left?" Someone called.

Couldn't he just leave for a while and come back later? It wasn't as though he'd run off forever, when he had an obligation to protect Helna's people. And a warm bed, and food, and kittens.

At any rate, he chose to ignore them, and spent a while poking around in the forest. It was vastly different now that he had his human form; he was having to rewrite his mental map of the area pretty much entirely. Long distances became short, landmarks became small and difficult to notice.

It suited him just fine to relearn the lay of the land. It meant he was seeing it as Helna did.

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