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Lahkin doesn't keep a journal, because Lahkin doesn't care to write. But if he did, this might be what it would say...

Winter's Veil, 17th day--

When I walked up to Laren's house, I expected to see a frothing, raging monster. Maybe with a demon's wings or tail sprouting from his back, and certainly with a demon's disposition.

But instead I saw a broken man in a broken house, clinging to nothing but his own pride. A child really, caught somewhere between his own wants and the wretched life he lived.

And when I saw that, I couldn't lift a hand against him.

Is that weakness? Light knows he deserves to die, after all he's done, and all the people he's hurt, especially Erelyn. But instead, all I could feel was pity. I saw his life in his face. Erelyn was in his eyes, the same wildcat look, like when an existence full of pain is suddenly crashing down all at once. But also...another...

He only told me a little of why he did it. And maybe some part of him really believes his story of generosity. As I watched him, the more I saw a cringing dog who had learned how to growl, but not how to stop cringing.

Cringing dogs don't cringe unless they've been beaten, too.

...

Kordrion had wanted to kill him, slowly. And when I walked out, I still don't know if he did. I didn't want to hear or see. Because I kept hearing and seeing that dog...and the dog's owner...and maybe...his owner before him.

How could I continue that...?

((Wow, nice insight into Erelyn's story.))

((It also gives fantastic insight into who Lahkin is. :))

Lunar Festival, 16th day--

Ever since Halaa, I’ve had a totem animal. But until Ushand explained it to me in the Blasted Lands, I didn’t know what that meant.

Totem animals are like spirit guides, usually someone in the family—with me, the other Lahkin that was Cyrus’ son. I’m not a talbuk, and neither is he, and the talbuk totem only represents one piece of me. There’ll be other totems in the future for the other pieces, guides connected to the other elements, maybe even to the Light. Sagewind will teach me them when I find them. But until I learn the talbuk and its domain of Wind, I can’t move on.

The talbuk is most like Azeroth’s gazelle, but it’s a lot like our rams, deer, and horses, too. All of these animals are prey animals, swift, enduring, with good instincts, especially gazelle. Rams are also totems of energy and flexibility, deer gentleness, and horses obedience and the spirit of freedom. I don’t know how someone can be energetic and gentle, obedient and free at the same time, but I guess that’s what I get to learn, because talbuk has a bit of each in it.

Those things will come in time, though, and I’m not too worried. It’s more the other thing that the talbuk connects to that I don’t get.

Instincts. Shaman insight.

I see a lot of things, but half the time, I have no idea what they mean, what I’m supposed to do. They usually come as colors, but they can just be feelings, too. Sagewind helps me sometimes by showing how a talbuk would react to it. Kicking or leaping or running or…other things. When I dance with Erelyn, I see him, then, too. We have different bodies, but he shows me the steps. I feel light, and it’s easy to place my feet, just like when he climbs up the sheer cliffs around Redridge.

Erelyn…

There’s a lot of things I see about her, too. The first time she spoke to me about her past, it was like a wave of black rushed out of her and clouded up my vision. The talbuk wanted to run away, and I did, too. I thought at first maybe I was just being cowardly, reacting to something that wasn’t even there.

But then she talked about the beast inside of her, and I could see it in the black. She said how it was similar to a worgen, so I saw it as a dog. Snarling, forceful, rabid, afraid. The talbuk wanted to knock it flying with its horns. And while I didn’t, I felt a bit better, that I wasn’t just seeing things.

Sometimes the dog’s absent, but more often lately when Erelyn and I talk, it’s right there, nipping and trying to herd me in some direction I don’t want to go. I don’t know why, I don’t even know what she wants--or even if she knows if she knows what she wants. It doesn’t make sense to me, either! I don’t think she notices that her dog’s active so much of the time.

But I feel it. I shy away. And her dog gets angrier. She thinks I’m doing it on purpose. And maybe I am, but not to be mean. It just feels wrong. To be taking that from a friend, even one that’s hurting on the inside.

The talbuk more often wants to flee from her than fight back, but I have a feeling neither of those is right to do. I think I know what Ushand would tell me. My totem is to understand myself better. But if Erelyn’s dog is also her totem, could I use it to understand her better?

Dogs…try to do the right thing. When they bite, it’s out of fear, or sometimes dominance. They bite because they don’t know what else to do to get people moving.

Erelyn said herself she didn’t know how else to protect herself but with the dog. She never learned another way to relate with people besides the manipulation—the herding—that they taught her. She can’t sit back and let nothing move, because when she let nothing move in the past, she was beaten.

It’s all a right mess.

It also reminds of something Dustwing said when he was teaching me how to ride Sagewind. Talbuks have to be broken in like horses are to be ridden, but they also break in their riders. A well-bred talbuk is too spirited to be tamed by anyone except a rider that works in cooperation with them. The talbuk trains the rider just as much as the rider trains the talbuk.

Erelyn has to learn how to work in cooperation with me. I can’t be herded, but running away and staying away does no good for us, either.

And I can talk. That’s something neither a talbuk or a dog can do.

I think sometimes I’d rather just be a talbuk.

Love is in the Air, 10th day--

This is easier than I thought it would be. Do people ever say that a lot about being a leader? Because it’s true.

I feel freed of a great burden, while another got slid into its place. But the new one is not so great at all. It feels…right. Natural. And maybe it’s Sagewind’s influence, and I can hear the voices of a thousand ancestors showing me the way. Telling me what to say, how to move, what to do next. It comes together naturally, like a cut gem grows out of the rough rock that it was formed in. As easy as molding clay.

Well, if I do hear those wise voices, I can’t hear them consciously. So I wonder. And I also hear other instincts–a writhing dark feeling in my stomach. Fear. And…shame. What if this fails? What if I fail? Become simply the folly of a misplaced trust. Many misplaced trusts…

So many tell me I can be great, and I always wonder what the fel they’re on when they say that. If I’m so great, why are things so difficult? Why do I fall into the pits that no one else seems to stumble into? I keep feeling as if it’ll only be a matter of time until they see the truth of me.

I’m not great. I just have unusual problems. Problems that I hide.

No…

Sagewind tells me this is silly. But letting people place me on a pedestal I haven’t earned is silly, too.

Look at me. We’ve barely begun, and I already worry. I see the same problems that my old superiors had. And I wonder if it’s arrogance that makes me think I can solve them. Could have solved them, then…

What if I can’t?

I just wish…things could be simple again. I just wish…that I’m not leading them all into more danger…

Maybe that’s the burden of leadership they talk about. It’s not in the actual chores you have to do at all.

It’s the worries.