She obeyed and felt her eyes widen. The pool was clear without a hint of red. Before she could comment, the fennec said, Now, look at your legs . Ottílde complied and this time shot out of the water. She ran frenzied hands over each limb and her breastbone and then stretched to touch the lacerations on her back. They were already starting to close — by tomorrow they would be scabbing. There was no way to avoid scars, since she had been unable to set any stitches for the deeper wounds, but as she moved her arms and legs, she realized those scars would probably not interfere with her movements at all.

“How is this possible?” she whispered. The fennec did not answer, but continued to look at her with his keen eyes. “Who are you?” Ottílde asked, suddenly afraid of the small animal.

My name is Kin , he answered.

She waded to the edge of the pool and then knelt in the water, her eye even with Kin’s. “How is it we can talk to each other?”

He blinked and then leaned forward to lick her nose. The suns have risen, he said. Unless you want to be baked I suggest you dress and get in some shade.

With a twitch of his tail, the fennec trotted off and disappeared around a boulder. She watched after him and then hoisted herself from the water, marveling at the lack of pain in her recently ravaged shoulder and back.

Ottílde took out the spare linen pants and sleeveless shirt from her pack and dressed. The three suns were sitting above the horizon now and already heating the air. She gathered materials for a fire later in the day and then went to her bedroll. Despite the excitement and worry of only a few hours before, Ottílde dropped to sleep without hesitation.

The triplet suns fought their way through the day, but again succumbed when their sister rose from her bed and ushered them from the sky. Ottílde woke when the chill in the air made her reach out sleepily for her cloak. Not finding it, she sat up beneath the stone shelf and looked around, disoriented.

“Was I dreaming,” she murmured. Then, her eyes found the dark shape of the wedowyn’s body, still lying near the pool. Ottílde touched her chest and felt two rough lines. Not a dream. As a test, she raised her right arm and then rotated her shoulder. A little pull, but nothing debilitating. She straightened one of her legs and hooked the other one over her reclined knee. Bracing her left elbow on the upright knee, she twisted until her back cracked pleasantly. No pain, the movement was just more strenuous.

I told you that water would do the trick, a familiar voice said in her mind.

“Kin?”

The fennec walked from the darkness and then sat next to her bedroll. He licked his chops and tilted his head to gaze at her. “Why did you help me today?” she asked. “I would have thought you’d be frightened to show yourself to me. Unless humans often come here.”

Actually, you are the first I’ve seen in a very long time, he replied coolly.

“Then… why?”

Because that wedowyn killed my mate and all our kits earlier this year. I was away hunting and when I came back they were all dead, with wedowyn tracks leading from our den.

“How did you know it was the same one?”

Kin watched her for several moments until Ottílde smiled and touched a finger to her nose. At that moment, her stomach growled. I suppose I should see if that water did the trick on the wedowyn as well , she thought.