The Keeper Ch. 10-11

"How much do you know about the Were-Kin?"

"Not much. I've run into some of the Kin before. I grew up in Emory. I know the Kin have some differences with the Witch-crafters."

"Differences-- well that's one way to put it," he growled. "Anyway, our cubs instinctively only shift as the last resort. A shift enhances their chances of surviving an attack. But normal shift-skill comes with puberty and lots of practice. Your little one is so young; she probably doesn't know much about what went on with her."

"Where do you think her people are?"

"I have no idea, but she is a lost cause unless you get her help soon. If she spent too long in her wolf shift, she may be permanently damaged. Better that she dies, than have that happen. Her pack would cull a pup too long in a premature shift."

"There is a Wolf-kin pack down around Mt Hood and another up north of Lake Chelan. Wolf-kin are mostly ranchers or loggers. If her pack was killed, she is lost. Wolf-kin don't take in orphans. It causes too much trouble with the pack."

"Kirk, why don't you take her. She's one of your people, isn't she?"

"You weren't listening. I'm Ursa. She's a wolf. She's not my kind. Anyway, we don't get involved in each other's affairs. My mother would kill me if I got involved."

"Fuck, how am I supposed to take care of her? I don't know anything about Kin. Even less about little girls.

"There is a healer I've heard of who lives up in Emory. A hedge-witch healer name of Anna, I think. You know of her?"

"I do," Quinn frowned. He stood up. "Thanks for coming around. I owe you one."

"No problem. Tell you what, I'll talk to my mother and see if she has any ideas. No promises, though. There's a big flap going on in the Kin Community right now. Rumors of slavers. Things are a bit touchy."

"Okay. Well, I'm going to head up to Emory and see Anna. Thanks for your help."

"No problem, glad you're there for the little one."

***

When Quinn walked into the clinic, the girl was in the corner with two dwarven girls about her age. When he walked in, she treated Quinn to a relieved smile and went on playing some sort of complicated story adventure game involving two stuffed bunnies.

Edie motioned to him to follow her back to her conference room.

"How is she," Quinn asked anxiously.

"I don't know for certain. She's fine physically, but I'm certain she's damaged psychologically. It's obvious she's change-impaired. Her mind seems to slip in and out of focus somehow. After you left, she retreated into herself. It's a defense mechanism given her premature shift to say nothing of the stress she's been under after her mother left her with a stranger. The fact that she was able to bond with you says a lot about how you've handled things so far. I'm proud of you. Who knew that pounding nails could help with a nine-year-old girl? Anyway, I think you should take her to Anna right away."

"I was planning on heading up there right now.

That's good, don't be a stranger, and thanks for the coffee beans.

Quinn collected his charge and they made their way out of Oldtown into the Fremont and back to his truck.