9

Pups die. It’s as natural as hunting prey or running in the moonlight. Our pack was unusual in that so many of us had survived for so long. Still, I couldn’t help but feel guilty about Reel’s death. If I hadn’t been trying to prove myself, if I had not dared the others to go to see the horses, he might not have died. I could not get the sight of his small, still form out of my mind. And then there was what was happening to Borlla.

She had taken Reel’s death the hardest of any of us. She had grown silent and solemn, and had eaten little in the half-moon since the stampede. It had been a time full of rain. The gathering place was slick with mud, and all of us were short-tempered. Werrna bit me two different times when I walked where she wanted to be, and even Yllin growled when we pups came near. But no one snapped at Borlla, or bit her.

She seemed unable to believe that Reel was gone; whenever the adults were not watching her carefully she returned to the Tall Grass fields to look for him. I thought Ruuqo and Rissa might be angry with her for leaving so often without permission, but they were not. Each time she left, they sent a wolf to retrieve her, and Trevegg, Werrna, or Minn would return with her. Sometimes they had to drag her back, which couldn’t have been easy, nearly grown as she was.

“He is not there anymore, littlewolf,” Trevegg said gently, after he had dragged her back a third time. It was true. Ázzuen and I had followed Borlla back the first day she returned to the Tall Grass field. Reel’s body was gone. Though his scent remained strong, mingled with it was the scent of hyena. It didn’t take much imagination to figure out what had happened. The scroungers had carried him off somewhere, no doubt fearing our return. The thought that one of us could so easily become a meal haunted me. Borlla refused to believe it.

I thought she would hate me, would look at me in resentment as Unnan did, but when I looked in her eyes I saw only bewilderment and sorrow. I would have preferred anger. I watched her as she sat in the rain, waiting patiently for her chance to slip away again, and guilt weighed me down more than my rain-soaked fur. When I tried to eat some of the old deer meat that Werrna had dug up from one of our hiding places, I could not choke it down. I watched Borlla, hoping to see some change in her. The rain was warm but I shivered and placed my head in my paws.

“It is time for you to stop moping, pup,” Trevegg said sternly, slogging over to me. “The strong survive and the weak do not. We are all sorry for Reel’s death, but prey does not jump into our jaws just because we are sad. You don’t see Rissa sitting around feeling sorry for herself. She knows that the hunt must continue. The day we stop chasing prey is the day we are no longer wolf.”

“I know that,” I said, blinking against the rain, which seemed to be coming up from the ground and into my eyes. “I know he might not have lived anyway. But I still feel bad.”

“I am glad to hear that,” the oldwolf said, chewing caked mud off his shoulder. “You would not be a good member of the pack if you did not. But now you must stop brooding. Would Reel have lived through the winter if you had not gone to the horses? Maybe. Would Unnan and Ázzuen have died if you had not thought and acted quickly? Almost certainly.”

Trevegg’s voice softened a little. “Some pups do not live through winter’s end. That’s the way it must be if wolves are to remain strong. Did you know the Vole Eater pack can only keep one or two of their pups alive each year, since they are too small to catch large prey? And the Stone Peak wolves won’t even let their smaller pups near food. They let them starve without even giving them a chance to prove themselves. Rissa is known throughout the valley for keeping most of her pups alive. If the Ancients take one of our pups, we must be grateful that so many do stay with us.”

“Where are they all? Rissa’s other pups from last year, and from before that?” Ázzuen asked, trotting over to us. He had been watching me for days, but had seemed afraid to come near. I remembered that I had growled at him when he had first tried to comfort me.

“Most leave the valley,” Trevegg answered. “There is not room here for many packs, and the rules of the valley are not for everyone.” He shook the rain from his fur.

“So now you must decide, pup. Do you stay with us, or do you follow Reel? None of us can make that decision for you.” He licked the top of my head and went to speak to Borlla. She turned her face away, then stood shakily and walked off into the woods. Trevegg’s shoulders drooped a little, then he shook himself and trudged over to speak to Unnan.

Suddenly I heard a splash and a growl from behind me. Yllin had pushed Minn into a muddy puddle. The two youngwolves began to fight, rolling in the mud and biting harder than necessary. Rissa broke up the fight and separated them.

“I hate summer storms,” she said, glaring after the two youngwolves. “I look forward to the winter snows, when the running is better and so are everyone’s tempers. Pups,” she said, “you are now old enough to explore on your own. Stay within a half hour’s run of Fallen Tree and come the moment we call you.”

I was surprised. They had been watching us all carefully since the stampede, keeping us within sight.

“Aren’t they just a bit young, Rissa?” Trevegg said, laughing at her. “Usually you wait another half-moon before sending pups out on their own.” He butted her affectionately.

“I want some peace in this gathering place so we can have a decent hunt!” Rissa said. She narrowed her eyes at Werrna, who was deep in conversation with Ruuqo. “Go on, pups. You may stay here and nap or you may explore.”

“We weren’t the ones making trouble,” Marra said, squelching over to me and Ázzuen, then sitting down to lick mud off a front paw. “But I don’t mind exploring. Maybe we can find some small prey.”

Ázzuen’s ears pricked up. The last hunt had been unsuccessful and we were all a little hungry. The adults had brought us some food from their hiding places, but not a lot.

“Let’s go, then!” Ázzuen said.

I laughed, and, feeling better than I had since Reel’s death, followed Ázzuen and Marra into the woods.

Ázzuen was the one who found the mouse homesite. It was just a rocky, grassy patch exactly half an hour’s run from Fallen Tree. The rain had flooded the mouse homes, forcing them into the open. After less than an hour, we got good at catching them, but just as quickly they figured out that it wasn’t safe near that homesite anymore. The mice ran into a hole we hadn’t seen before, and we lost their scent. Pleased with ourselves, but still a little hungry since mice are not that filling, we settled down to sleep. That’s when the young spiritwolf found me again.

I had not forgotten her. I had thought about her often since she spoke to me at the human gathering place. But I didn’t know how to find out more about her. I was afraid to ask even Trevegg or Rissa, lest they think I was crazy and not fit to be pack. Wolves don’t appear out of thin air. When I wasn’t thinking about Reel, I looked for her behind trees and in the shadows, but it was in my dreams that she came to me again.

Ázzuen and Marra slept soundly, tired from mouse hunting, but my sleep was restless. Each time my mind would try to take me to dreams of running with the pack or hunting with Ázzuen and Marra, the young wolf’s face would appear before me. Then she would turn as if to run and wait for me to follow. But sleep kept me in one place, and I just tossed and scrabbled on the wet ground. Finally, she gave a bark, loud enough to startle me from my dreams.

I awoke, leaping to my feet, and waking Ázzuen and Marra from their own dreams. I saw a flash of tail disappearing into the forest, and caught just a whiff of the juniper-acrid scent I remembered so well. I shook off my sleep and a layer of rain, and followed the scent into the forest. Marra grunted and settled back into her nap, but Ázzuen followed me.

“Where are we going?” He was sleepy and a little cranky.

I ignored him and kept running. He could follow me or not as he chose. The scent grew stronger as we ran deep into the woods. It took us to a dense part of the forest, a place we were not supposed to go without the adults. Not only had Rissa told us to stay a half hour’s run from Fallen Tree, we also had to stay at least a half hour’s walk from the edges of our territory in case a rival pack was roaming. Before long, Ázzuen and I reached a scent marker that Ruuqo and Rissa had left specifically to warn us pups not to go too far. I stopped, knowing we shouldn’t go any farther. When a strong wind carrying the juniper-acrid scent whipped around me, pelting me with painfully sharp rain, I crossed the scent marker. After I did so, the rain let up a bit. Ázzuen, too, stopped for a moment, and then followed, shaking his head a little. We had only walked a few more steps when we came upon a path the humans used to cross through the thick woods and where the young spiritwolf’s scent mingled with the human-and-fire scent.

I stopped again, confused, and looked around. I knew from the sounds of rushing water and the wet leaf and mud smell that we were near the river. But it was a different part of the river, far downstream from the crossing we’d swum and even farther from the Tree Crossing. We were, I realized a little guiltily, much too close to the human homesite. If one crept through the woods a bit farther and jumped straight over the river, it would be a quick run to their gathering place. I didn’t need Ázzuen’s frightened whine to remind me we were in danger of breaking the most important of rules.

“Let’s get out of here,” I said.

Then I heard the cry coming from the river. It was not the sound of one of our kind in trouble, but it was definitely a creature in need. Somehow I knew it was not prey, and I felt drawn to the sounds of distress, and took a few more steps in the direction of the river. I should have turned tail and left. I didn’t need any trouble with Ruuqo watching me so carefully, and with Reel’s death on everyone’s mind. Apparently Ázzuen had the same thought.

“Kaala, we should leave,” he said urgently. “Whatever it is, it’s not our concern.”

I knew he was right. I began to back away, down the human trail and away from the river and the frightened cries coming from it. Then, suddenly, a forceful gust of juniper-acrid wind pushed me forward, through the trees and back toward the river. With a surprised yip, Ázzuen followed.

The woods ended at a steep, treacherous drop to the river. “No wonder we don’t cross here,” I muttered to myself. Then I saw it. In the rushing water, clinging to a rock, was a human child. I recognized it for what it was, for we had seen ones like it playing and shouting at the human gathering place. The child was struggling in the fast-moving water, for the days of rain had swelled and quickened the river. It was just barely keeping its head above water, crying out whenever it could.

It sounded so much like a wolf in distress, so much like the death cries of my brother and sisters, that I had to help it. After I had gotten in so much trouble for trying to go to the humans, I had promised myself I would pretend they did not exist. Every time I thought of them, the mark on my chest ached, and I was determined not to get in any more trouble with Ruuqo. But I couldn’t ignore that desperate, helpless cry. I watched the child for a moment as it struggled for life, then I began to pick my way down the steep slope.

Ázzuen nipped at my flank, trying to keep me from going, but I ignored him. I ran down the bank, sliding down the last few wolflengths and landing hard beside the water, hurting my hip. Caked with mud, I splashed ungracefully into the water. The river was deep enough that I had to start swimming right away, and I swam hard to the child. Its dark eyes met mine as it lost its hold on its rock and began to slip underwater. I swam closer. It grabbed frantically at my fur and wrapped its thin forelegs around my neck, pulling me under the water. Water ran up into my nose and into my throat. I struggled back up to the surface. As soon as I caught a breath, the child’s forelegs pulled at me. I was sure that I would be dragged all the way under by its weight, and was afraid that I would not be able to fight my way to shore. But the child clung to me so desperately that I could not have freed myself if I wanted to. It suddenly seemed to understand what I was trying to do and began to kick its legs, helping me stay afloat. Its long, dark pelt fell into my eyes and nose, and I grabbed the soft fur in my mouth to help me pull the child in the right direction. Its fur tasted different than the fur of a wolf. It didn’t have a warm-body taste, but was more like the fur a wolf leaves behind on a tree or bush. Summoning all of my strength, I swam. I reached the far edge of the river and dragged the child onto a narrow, flat stretch of bank. Shaking myself hard, I got the child to release its grip, and it slid to the ground. It began to squall again, as soon as it caught its breath. But as I stood over it, it stopped. I heard a splash from across the river as Ázzuen jumped in and swam across to join me. It surprised me that he so easily swam the river since he’d had so much trouble just a half-moon before, but I kept my gaze on the human.

It was a girl child, half grown, one of those we had seen romping like pups in the human homesite. She stared at me fearfully for a moment. There are many creatures that will kill and eat a human child if they can, and there was no way for the girl to know a wolf would not. I lowered my ears a bit, so as to appear less threatening and, after a moment, the fear fled the girl child’s eyes. Then she reached out her forelegs. Arms, Yllin had told us they were called.

“Kaala!” Ázzuen’s voice was urgent. “Let’s go!” He sniffed the air anxiously. “With all the noise she’s made, someone will come soon.”

Yes, I thought, some bear or rock lion will come and take her. Or some scrounger too lazy to hunt real prey. I didn’t want her to be prey. But I could not stay and risk exile. After watching the child a bit longer, watching her large, dark eyes and soft, dark skin, I touched my nose to her cheek and started toward the river. She tried to stand but collapsed back into the mud and began weeping again. The human’s fur was not thick enough to warm her well and the water had been cold, even in the summer rain. The bank on this side of the river was almost as steep and slippery as the bank on our side. The rain showed no sign of letting up and the girl was shivering. She would die if I left her there. Even if she didn’t become prey, she would freeze and the scroungers would have her anyway. Her eyes had looked at me with such trust. I felt something stirring within me. The crescent on my chest grew warm, but this time the feeling was not uncomfortable at all.

Before I could change my mind, I turned my back on the river. I took the girl’s shoulder gently in my jaws, careful not to bite down hard enough to hurt her. But she squealed in fright at the feel of my teeth and began to thrash. Concerned that I would hurt her as she threw herself about in my jaws, I let her go. I thought for a moment. How could I carry her without hurting or scaring her? She had no scruff, and surely it would hurt her if I dragged her by her long head fur. Then I remembered the way she had clung to me as I swam in the river, and remembered the way I had seen human children grabbing their adults by the neck and hanging from them as the adults walked.

I lowered myself to the ground and pressed up against the child. After just a moment’s hesitation, she threw her forelegs around my neck and her rear legs over my back. I tried to stumble to my feet, but staggered under the girl’s weight. It had been easier to carry her in the water. Ázzuen watched in confusion.

“What under the moon are you doing?”

“Help me carry her!” Ázzuen could act like a curl-tail when he was frightened or confused, and I didn’t have time to argue.

“How?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, frustrated. “Think of something.”

The girl had slipped off my back when I sagged to the ground, but kept her forelegs tight around my neck. Ázzuen thought for a moment and then lay down next to me, scooping the girl’s rear legs so that they hung onto his back and then onto the ground beside him. The weight on my own back eased, and we both stood. The girl lay across both of our backs, her long legs dragging on the ground beside Ázzuen.

“You really think this will work?” I gasped.

“Do you have a better idea?” he replied.

I couldn’t argue with that. Both Ázzuen and I shook with anxiety as well as with the weight of the child. If I had known what I was starting, I wouldn’t have asked for his help, but I just wanted help up the slippery bank.

I was sure no wolf had ever carried a burden in such a way, but need creates wisdom and we needed to move the girl quickly and quietly. Her front paws were long and curved, and grasped with surprising strength. Her limbs looked weak and spindly, but were not. I could feel her warm breath on my neck and her heart beating against my back. We climbed the bank and began to run. We ran slowly and awkwardly, side by side, and Ázzuen began to laugh. “We must look ridiculous,” he said.

We were also breaking another pack rule. It is unwise to run side by side in enemy territory, and by crossing the river we entered Stone Peak domain. It’s better to run one by one to hide your numbers. But it was too late to worry about that now, and so we kept running. Ázzuen and I both remembered the way to the humans’ gathering place, even though we came at it from a different direction this time. The scent of humans grew strong, and I knew we were not far from them. But I felt the girl shivering and, concerned, I stopped to set her down. Her lips were pale and her face paler. She shook hard. I licked her skin. It was cold and damp.

I curled my body around the girl child, ignoring Ázzuen’s anxious whining. The two of us together could have warmed the girl better, but I didn’t want him to help. I had found her. She was mine. Ázzuen would have left her in the river to drown, left her to be prey for some creature. I felt her heartbeat again, strong and sure, and her long forelegs went around me as far as they could reach. Her rich scent filled me. I had not realized before how sweet their scent was, like firemeat mixed with flowers and fragrant leaves. Because we were supposed to stay away from them, I had not had the chance to distinguish one human-scent from another. Now, inhaling the girl’s unique scent, I came to know her as I did my packmates.

I couldn’t keep her very warm with my fur still wet and the rain coming down, and Ázzuen was edging toward home. So I tried to take her on my back again—this time without Ázzuen’s help. But the child’s back legs dragged heavily on the ground and I couldn’t take even two steps without collapsing. I wasn’t strong enough to carry her on my own. Then, as she had in the river, she began to help me. She stood on her own, and pressed heavily on my back. We staggered toward the human gathering place, the girl gripping my fur and stumbling beside me. Ázzuen hesitated and then followed behind me.

“You can go back, you know,” I said. For some reason I didn’t want him with me now.

“Someone has to keep you out of trouble,” he said, his voice almost steady.

I heard a rustling above us and smelled wet raven. I looked suspiciously up and to the left, where the smell came from. Tlitoo was trying to hide himself in some branches.

“Just what I need,” I gasped, “more help.” Tlitoo stopped trying to hide, cackled, and flew ahead of me toward the human gathering place.

“To keep you in trouble,” he said over his wing as he flew into the mist.

Ázzuen and I neared the human homesite, and I began to look for a safe place to leave the girl. I didn’t want to let her go. I wanted to take her back with me. Even though I had started to gain acceptance from some wolves in the pack, I was still an outsider. I wouldn’t feel that way if I brought the human child with me. I wanted to take her back to Fallen Tree and keep her with us as we roamed the winter territories. But the rules of the Wide Valley were clear. I shouldn’t even have pulled the girl from the river, and if Ruuqo found out I had, it could give him the excuse he needed to get rid of me. Still, I thought, perhaps I could hide her somewhere and keep her near.

A sharp pull on my ear brought me to my senses. “Leave her, wolflet,” Tlitoo said. “You still have the winter to get through.” He cocked his head. “Uh-oh,” he said.

Ázzuen, who had been trailing a little way behind me, caught up.

“The Greatwolves are nearby,” he said.

I had been so wrapped up in the girl that I hadn’t noticed the scent of the Greatwolves. I hadn’t seen them since the day they saved my life and I was surprised at how easily I recognized their scent. My heart pounded. What would they do if they found us here? I was grateful to Ázzuen, both for noticing the Greatwolves and for staying by my side. I called on the last of my strength and helped the girl to the very edge of the human gathering place. I wanted badly to venture farther into their home, to see what it was like up close, but I had broken enough rules for one day, and I wanted to avoid a confrontation with the Greatwolves. So I helped the girl sit on the ground and placed my paw on her chest. She clambered to her feet and returned the gesture. I nudged her gently, reinforcing the command to leave with a soft bark.

“Thank you, wolf,” she said. And then she was gone, stumbling toward the warmth of her fires. I looked after her. Ázzuen looked at her and then at me.

“She spoke!” he said. “And I understood her. I thought we might not be able to.”

I dipped my head. There are some creatures whose language is so strange you can’t understand it at all. I was glad the humans were not such creatures.

“They’re not that different from us,” I said. “They are not Other.”

“Less talk, more running,” Tlitoo advised, shaking his wing feathers free of water.

“For once, I agree with him,” Ázzuen said. “Let’s go.”

“Oops.” Tlitoo cocked his head left and right. “Too late.”

I heard breaking twigs and squelching mud, and Frandra and Jandru stepped out through the buckthorn bushes and blocked our path.

“What are you doing in the company of humans?” Frandra demanded. The Greatwolf was clearly angry. “Don’t you know you could be exiled for this? Do you think I saved your life just so you could throw it away?”

I tried to speak but only a frightened whuff of air came out.

“We rescued a human child,” Ázzuen managed.

“I know what you did,” Frandra growled. “Do you think there is anything in these territories I don’t know about? You,” she said to me, “were saved for a reason, and you,” she turned to Ázzuen, “should be helping her, not encouraging bad behavior.”

Frandra’s arrogance made me mad. Long-hidden anger was slowly replacing my fear of her. It was the anger that had helped me fight off three pups when I was very small. It was the anger Tlitoo and Yllin had warned me against. But it felt good. It felt better than being afraid.

“If you know everything that happens in the valley,” I said slowly, doing my best to speak calmly, “why did you let Ruuqo kill my littermates? Why did you let him send my mother away?” Why didn’t you tell me about the humans? I wanted to ask.

Ázzuen looked at me in shock. Tlitoo pulled my tail so hard I almost fell over. I ignored them both. I didn’t care if the Greatwolves really were descendants of the Ancients themselves. When I held the human girl close to me I had felt whole for the first time since my mother left. Now I felt the girl’s absence like a bite wound, deep in my flesh, and I missed my mother more than I had since the day she left. Seeing the Greatwolves again after they had all but abandoned me made me feel the loss afresh. No one else in my pack had to feel that way. The Greatwolves knew something about who I was and why I felt the way I did about the human girl. I wanted answers from them.

Frandra looked at me coldly and pulled her lips back in a snarl. “Do not challenge me, wolf,” she said, and took a step forward and bared her sharp teeth. Wet wings flapped above us and Tlitoo landed directly on her head. She turned to snap at him, and he leapt to her rump. When she turned to try to grab him in her jaws he leapt up and tweaked her ear, then flew to a low branch nearby.

The bigger they are

The slower Grumpwolves will be.

Wolf big, brain little.

To my surprise, Tlitoo’s voice wobbled a little. Frandra swung her head away from me, growled at Tlitoo, and stepped toward him. He gave a shaky caw and flew off. We heard a muffled sound to our right, and turned to find Jandru laughing.

“Don’t try to fight a battle against the ravens, Lifemate,” he said. “You will always lose.” He poked her playfully in the ribs. “As for the pup, what did you expect, Frandra? You’re just unhappy things aren’t going by your plan.”

Frandra looked for a moment as if she was going to strike out at Jandru, but then ducked her head and gave her whuffling laugh, her anger leaving as quickly as it had come. Mine still burned within me. But my senses had returned and Frandra’s fury had scared me. I would not challenge her again. At least not until I was a lot bigger.

“Maybe so, but this complicates things. And I can’t help these two with their packmates.” She swept her eyes over to us.

“You must listen. Your path is not an easy one, Kaala Smallteeth,” she said. “You must resist the temptations of the humans. You must become pack and gain the mark of romma from Ruuqo. If you do not, no wolf will follow you, and you will never be accepted as a full member of any pack. You have learned of this already?”

“I think so,” Ázzuen answered quickly. I think he was afraid of what I would say if I spoke. “We’ve already passed the first test, when we made it to our gathering place from the den. Now we have to participate in our first hunt, and travel the winter with the pack. After we do that, Ruuqo grants us the mark of the Swift River pack. I don’t know what happens if we don’t receive romma. And I am not sure what the mark is,” he concluded.

“It is a scent mark that can be given only by a leaderwolf,” Jandru said, “and you must bear that mark or you will not be able to be a part of a pack, and you will wander alone. Or you must start your own pack, which will be doubly difficult if you do not bear the romma mark.”

“We need you to be accepted by your pack, youngwolf,” Frandra said. “We need you to stay out of trouble. And you absolutely must stay away from the humans.”

Jandru lowered his shaggy head to mine. “Even we cannot control all that happens, littlewolf. We do what we can, but that is not much. You must gain acceptance in your pack. You must shun the humans and hide your difference. If you can do this,” he said, “if you can earn the mark of romma, we will help you find your mother when you are grown. I promise you.”

I swallowed hard. I didn’t know if I should trust him. But he certainly knew more than I did.

“We will not be in the territories much over the next moons,” Frandra said, not waiting for me to agree. “Try to stay out of trouble when we are gone.” And with that, she and Jandru stalked back into the woods. I looked after them. Now my anger was mixed with confusion and frustration. They had left me more upset than when they had first come. I took a step to follow them. I wanted to know more. I wanted to ask them if I was a danger to my pack, and if I was one of the mixed-blood wolves that Trevegg said could be crazy.

“Kaala, we have to get back,” Ázzuen said.

“They will tell you no more, wolf,” Tlitoo added, returning from his rock. “I can follow them,” he suggested. “Try to listen if they say anything else about you.” He pulled the fur on my paw gently.

I sighed. Ázzuen and Tlitoo were both right, but I still wanted to follow the Greatwolves. But I had gotten Ázzuen into this and I owed it to him to get him home. And the Greatwolves were right, too—I had to make it through the winter.

“Come on,” I said wearily. “Let’s go home.”

As soon as we walked into the gathering place, Werrna raised up her nose.

“You smell of humans!” she said. “Where have you been?”

Ruuqo and Rissa heard Werrna’s question and walked over to us. I groaned to myself. How could I have forgotten to cover the human-scent? I had been too upset by my encounter with the Greatwolves to think of it. What excuse could I possibly give them? My brain was exhausted.

“We slipped in the mud and fell in the river, leaderwolves,” Ázzuen said, smoothly. “By the time we climbed out, we were near the human site. We came back as quickly as we could.”

Impressed with Ázzuen’s quick thinking, I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. His face was full of innocence. Ruuqo gave us a long look. I wasn’t sure he believed us.

“Do not stray so far,” he said at last. “And be more careful from now on. The river can be dangerous in the rains.” Ruuqo peered into my eyes suspiciously. I was sure I smelled more strongly of humans than Ázzuen did. Fortunately, the rain and mud must have disguised some of the girl’s distinct scent.

“Nice thinking,” I said to Ázzuen when we were alone.

His ears pricked up at the compliment and he opened his mouth in a happy grin.

“We were lucky,” he said.

“You were smart,” I replied, touching my nose to his cheek.

Marra trotted into the gathering place, and Ázzuen ran to meet her. I stayed where I was, watching as Rissa and Ruuqo spoke quietly. As Ázzuen whispered to Marra, I chewed on a piece of the girl’s fur I had managed to hold in my mouth. It tasted like family.