Winter Rain, part 60

“We’re nearly there, right?”

“Mm hmm,” she answers, “maybe another five minutes?”

“He has a farm?” I ask, looking around at the surprisingly green meadows rolling by. We’ve turned down so many narrow, windy roads, I’ve lost track of everything but our heading: West.

“No, no—he’s restored an old monastery, or something, I think. It’s a big place, lots of stone.”

“Big family, then?”

She doesn’t answer immediately. Just before I turn to look, she says, “Um, father didn’t tell you . . . about him?”

Uh oh. Now I do turn. “Ah . . . no? What exactly should he have told me?”

“Oh, no, no, “ she says, shaking her head quickly, “it’s nothing you need to worry about. It’s just . . . Torrin’s a bit . . . odd.”

“Odd,” I say, and wait.

She shrugs apologetically. “Um . . . well, he doesn’t have a family.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Well, it’s just . . . he lives alone, right?”

“You mean, completely alone,” I say, frowning. A lone wolf? Does that even really happen? “No mate, no pack, no nothing?”

She shakes her head.

But, how does he . . . . I shake my head, confused. “And he has a territory? All by himself?”

“Um, well, it’s not big, or anything. But, yeah. At least, well, Father insists on treating him like he does.”

Wait, what? “Meaning?”

She blinks at me, worried. “Well, I kind of get the impression Torrin would just as soon, well . . . not deal with any of us. He’s some kind of artist, I think? Famous, even. Every time I’ve been there, he’s had . . . human guests. I mean, he was nice enough about it, but, well, it just seemed like he’d rather we leave him alone.”

“Human guests,” I hear myself repeat, like some kind of idiot.

“Yeah,” she replies—again, apologetically.

I glance over at Brennan, but he’s giving nothing away.

A lone wolf. Who hangs out with humans . . . . What the fuck?!

I pull my attention back to the problem at hand. “Is he going to let us pass, then?” I ask.

“Oh, yeah,” she nods. “Shouldn’t be a problem. I don’t think he really cares about his territory, to be honest. I kind of got the impression, last time, he thinks the whole formal thing is kind of quaint, unnecessary. But, well, you know . . . Father’s pretty insistent that the rules be followed.”

I nod slowly, though none of this is making much sense.

Suddenly, she thrusts her arm forward, past Brennan’s ear. “There! You’re turning there.”

Brennan slows, and pulls us onto a dirt road. We climb a ridge, and tops of trees come slowly into view.

For no reason I can put into words, I brace myself for trouble.

10 Responses to “Winter Rain, part 60”

  1. Miladysa says:


    My favourite line?

    “A lone wolf.  Who hangs out with humans . . . .  What the fuck?” grin

    Well worth the wait!  I can’t wait to read more about this new character.

  2. Sonja says:

    The dude lives in a monastary and is a potential artist?

    I like him already!

  3. srsuleski says:

    I like Torrin.  Or the idea of him, anyway.  I somehow picture him wearing a smoking jacket and holding a glass of brandy and a cigar, whilst showing his human guests his gallery of paintings, many of which feature paw prints.

  4. Vercin says:

    It’s almost too snarky for me, but given the way the math worked out, I can’t help but ask if you might have dropped your weekly posting rate and accidentally inverted it when you picked it back up.

    hides now
    Like the chapter, love the story, will still be back whenever you find the time to write and post :D

  5. Miladysa, Sonja: well, I’ll try not to disappoint.

    Sarah: I sense I am being mocked.  :-P

    Vercin: yeah, sorry about that.  Last week just got really busy with work stuff, and I couldn’t even find the time to think seriously about the story, much less write it.  I will be trying to hold to once or twice a week, with WR61 by Friday.

  6. Patji says:

    Wow . . . I love this story. I read this all in one sitting, which is why you lack comments from me on the previous installments.

    Seriously, you’ve got skills. Normally I can not stand anything in the present tense at all. It just drives me insanely bonkers, but after the first installment I totally forgot about the tense.

    I would also like to note how I love your portrayal of werewolves. I got all gushy and happy that this world was so different.

    Quick question though . . . how old is Tiergan? It may be irrelevant, but it bugs me and I can’t recall if you mentioned it. I mean obviously he’s 21 and up, but it sound as if he’s still in his early to mid-twenties?

    Anyways, can’t wait for more!

  7. Hi Patji — thanks, and welcome aboard!  :-)  Hopefully, I can continue to produce something you’ll find entertaining.

    I don’t think I’ve ever set Tiergan’s age in the story, and, for the most part, if I haven’t written it, I don’t comment on it — I make this story up as I go, so I generally try to keep my options open.  However, your guess is reasonable.  Certainly not older than 23.  Certainly not younger than 19.  I hope that’s a good enough answer.

    Again, it’s great to hear from you!


  8. mafidufa says:

    I like. Very much. And there went my afternoon.

    Does the promising note on the sidebar mean I discovered this just in time for the ending of the hiatus? Eagerly awaiting more.

  9. Hi mafidufa — thanks for commenting.  Yep — I’m trying to get back in the swing of it this week, for a restart some time early in January.  No promises on the date yet — I’m going to try to get a bit of a buffer going, to avoid similar problems in future.  But soon, I hope.

  10. Showeda says:

    Like srsuleski’s comment . . . Yes good description . . . I had similar notions . . . All Peter Cushing like with a huge widowers peak and dark red velvet everywhere . . . Can’t wait to read on . . . 

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