Inside the sweat lodge, White Elk had prayed and sweated for four days. Dances In Storms and Long Sun had remained with him, fasting and staying awake. Never before had anyone been with him in the sweat lodge. No one had smoked the Pipe of Truth with him; no one had tossed the Sacred Plants on the hot embers; and no one had prayed and sung with him until their voices became like the croaks of the green ones who lived near water.

For the first time in his life, White Elk felt clean—truly clean. Now, Dances In Storms and Long Sun lay curled by the hot embers as he gathered his belongings and snuck out of the sweat lodge.

Father Sun reached shy fingers above the edge of the land. Dances In Storms had already prepared what he would need on his Vision Quest, and left it beside the sweat lodge. He tied the supplies on his mare’s back and leapt up. Those who Vision Quested usually walked to find their place. Their bare feet connected them with the Mother and opened their Spirits. In the cold season, however, it was permitted to ride and to shelter in a cave.

Keeping the animal to a walk, he left the lodge behind. Only once did he glance over the rim to the lodges below. Golden Fox slept, as did most of the band. When he returned, they would talk.

White Elk shoved thoughts of Golden Fox to the side, and emptied his mind as he tightened his robe against the cold. At the sound of paws crunching on the hard crust of the snow, he looked back and discovered that Sun Snow loped behind.

Silly wolf!

Still, her presence brought joy to his heart, and the feeling of loneliness that had been growing in his chest lessened.

Once he was far enough away, he tapped his mare’s sides, and the mustang broke into a lope.

Sun Snow, tongue lolling from the side of her mouth, ran beside the larger animal.

Mustang breath blew in a cloud past White Elk, where his cloud breath mingled with it. Grey clouds hung low on the horizon. Snow would fall before Father Sun crossed the sky. A cold white blanket already clung to canyon walls and bowed the pine branches of the forest. How well he and his animals blended with the land—albino man, white mustang, and wolf whose fur looked like snow.

As he rode, a grin tugged the corners of his mouth. “Ha! Now I know why Dances In Storms told Eagle Thunder to pack much meat.” He glanced down at the wolf. “She did not want you to hunger, Sun Snow.”

For a moment, his mind dwelled on Dances In Storms. She was good to look at, with a firm body and a good heart. A man could find a worse mate. Yet his heart refused to yearn for the Holy Woman, and no fire in his loins heated when she was near.

He rubbed a hand down his cold face. He would beg the Spirits to give him guidance; yet, he wondered.... If they told him to take Dances In Storms to mate, even if he lost Golden Fox, would he be able to do this?

Three sunrises passed before he saw the blood-red sandstone boulders in the distance, pushing up through the snow. Dances In Storms had said that a cave entrance lay behind the boulders. The image of a small fire and shelter urged him to hurry.

A white fox appeared before him and kept pace. Overhead, the sky darkened and a deep rumbling shook the air. His mare, never one to fear noise, reared. White Elk clung to his mustang. Wild-eyed, his animal bucked, nearly unseating White Elk. “Easy girl! I should have given you a name long ago. Perhaps then, we would have the connection warriors have to their animals. I must—”

The animal settled suddenly, and he peered around. Alone. “Sun Snow!”

The wolf did not appear.

“I smell rain, though it is the season for snow. What kind of weather is upon me?”

He rode up to the boulders and slid off. The snow slipped under his feet and he fell. On hands and knees, he pushed himself up. “How is this so? For days, the snow has barely touched my ankles. Now it is to my waist!”

He pushed through the deepening snow toward the black hole of the cave entrance, but the harder he pushed, the higher the snow rose. When it reached his neck, he panicked and yelled.

White Fox ran over, sniffed him, then vanished.

White Elk floundered as darkness overcame his mind.

***

“You finally wake up, eh? You sounded as if you swallowed gravel all night. I could not understand much of what you spoke. Your mind left you. Oh... and the mare.... Name her Cloud. She will like that.”

“How...? Who...?”

“Do not speak in broken tongue, boy.” A young man stirred food in a large wooden bowl, which lay on a flat stone next to a small fire. He ladled some into a smaller bowl and began eating. “I know you must fast, at least for a little longer. I made extra to take to my woman. She is a bit crazy, keeping an owl, but I love her.” A long, black braid hung over his shoulder. He flipped his head and tossed it to his back

A mouse crawled up the stranger’s arm and pawed at the edge of the bowl.

He poured some in another bowl for the tiny creature. “You must share, little one.”

White Elk leaned on his elbow. “Who are you? A mouse? How did I get out of the snow? Where is my wolf? My mustang?”

“Snow, you say? You must have been dreaming. Flowers bloom.” He waved a hand toward the cave entrance. “Birds nest. The forest is awake with baby animals.”

White Elk shot up and banged his head on the top of the cave. “Forest?” He rubbed the back of his head.

“My, you really are an albino. I thought the fire in here cast a strange light on your skin. Yes, boy, a great forest that stretches as far as a person can see from a high hill. Where did you think you were?”

“I live in the canyons! There is forest, but it does not stretch for long distances.” He tried to rise, but fell backward.

“Boy, you are weak. Dances In Storms—”

“Where is she? Have you spoken with her?” White Elk demanded.

“Hmm? Oh yes, she is where she belongs.”

White Elk scooted back, leaned on the cave wall, and grabbed his head. “You make my mind crazy! Who are you, and why... are you with me?”

“Well... because I am meant to be, just as you are meant to be here with me, White Elk. The Spirits asked me to show you the forest. You will understand why, when you need to.”

“Am I in the Spirit Land? Is the forest there?”

“It is wherever you wish it to be, boy. There are no wrong places in the mind.”

“Why is it foggy in here? Are you fading? Do not leave me!”

“I am called Wanderer. Do not worry, for you will see me again.”

“Wanderer, are you a Holy Man? Wanderer?”

The cave vanished. He stood in a dense forest, on an animal path covered in damp layers of leaves many cycles of seasons old. Father Sun filtered through the huge branches of the tall trees and puddled around his feet.

Sun Snow rubbed against him.

He dropped to his knees and hugged her. “Girl, I am so happy to see you!”

He stood again and gazed around. A narrow, dirt path led through trees that grew so thickly, he could only see a short ways. Eyes closed, he inhaled until his body could hold no more air. When the damp smell of moss and a sweet aroma floated into his nostrils, he opened his eyes. Flowers sprinkled the forest between trees so huge, it would take several men holding hands to circle their trunks.

He shuffled along the path. Up ahead, beyond where the path bent around trees, the laughter of children rang out. As he followed the sound, a light grey fog swirled between him and what appeared to be a camp. Many lodges rose among the trees, with people moving between them, busy with the life of any camp.

When he reached the edge of the camp, he raised his hand in greeting. No one responded, though he could see that several looked in his direction.

He blinked, and all of a sudden, a white bear and her cub ambled up the path toward him. As she approached, he stepped backward and fell over a log that he would have sworn was not there a breath ago.

Cold. I feel so cold!

He wrapped his arms around himself and rubbed harder as snow touched his skin. “Skin? I stand naked in deep snow! Where is the forest?” Ahead of him rose large, yellow sandstone boulders, partly covered in snow.

Cloud snorted when she saw White Elk, and he rushed toward his mustang. Ankle deep snow lay in front of the cave’s entrance.

He twirled around, mouth agape. “Ankle deep? It was over my head!”

Turning in a circle, he stared at the snow barely dusting the ground. He whirled and ran for the cave.

Inside, his robe, tunic, leggings, and footwear lay near a warm fire. Quickly, he jerked his clothes on, wrapped the robe around his shoulders, and scooted closer to the red embers.

On the other side of the fire circle sat a figure he did not recognize.

“Who are you? Did you make this fire?”

“You have been here a long time, boy, longer than most.”

“I only... I stood naked in the freezing snow! I have only just arrived! Who... what are you?”

“Never say ‘what’! I am a being, not a thing. A thing is something Creator did not breathe life into. Creator breathed life into all that is and will ever be. I am Elk. I am man. I am woman. I am Shining Light. You have gone long with no water—maybe five sunrises.” He handed him a water bladder. “Drink. Your body must crave water after so long.”

White Elk reached through the fire as if the flames were not there. He took the water bladder and drank deep. “It does not taste as water, but I no longer thirst. What did I drink?”

“Life. The forest, the canyons, all the animals, Humans, Sky, and the Mother we walk upon. You have taken nourishment from everything there is and everything that will be, Human Who Is Albino. No one can live without taking in all there is. Without such nourishment, you would only be an empty shell. None can live without being every living being at least once.”

White Elk grasped his head between his hands. “You make my head feel crazy, as did the one called Wanderer. What is this you say?”

“We are born Human, or maybe Elk, or perhaps Hawk first, so we may experience their existence. Without this, your mind would only fill with useless thoughts. Heh, in the future some Humans will say animals have no ability to think beyond what they call in-stinct. Animals are smarter than Humans. They live in total harmony and balance with the Spirit.

“If you believe in yourself, the rest will begin to grow within you. I wish to speak of your feet. Hush and only listen. I have taught many what I am to teach you. When you feel disconnected from yourself and others, go off alone and take off your footwear. Stand and face in any direction, and sing of how you feel. Ask the Mother to take hold of you. Allow your feet to take hold of her. Close your eyes and allow roots to grow from your feet. These roots are not as tree roots, but from our minds. Think of your feet growing roots. Feel the roots go deep into our Mother. Your feet might itch, but stand firm. If your voice becomes silent, put all of your thoughts, your very being, into growing your roots. Call me Shining Light, little brother.”

Shining Light stood, and motioned for him to stand also.

“Sing a song that tells of your need to connect. Sing low, or as loud as you need. Close your eyes.”

Barefoot, White Elk sang until his voice could sing no more. He stood in silence and smiled. His feet grew roots, roots that burrowed into the heart of the Mother. Power thrummed through him.

His eyes popped wide. “Shining Light, I....”

He stood in the middle of the small fire, but did not feel the heat. “You... are gone. Thank you. I will never forget.” Hunger overtook him, and he stepped out of the fire.

Sun Snow glanced up.

“How long have you been here? You must be very hungry. Come here, girl. Sit with me and enjoy our food.” He unwrapped the food and fed Sun Snow a hunk of dried meat.

Water dripped outside the cave. The drip-drip-drip called to him.

He jumped up and peered outside. “No, this is not possible!”

Wet and muddy ground stretched flat to the horizon. Grass grew tall with red, white, and blue flowers sprinkled through it. A new foal whinnied and pushed against Cloud, demanding to be fed. Mustangs grazed with new foals sleeping in the sun, or kicking up their heels and acting foolish.

The warm breeze that ran fingers through his hair made him shiver. “How is this so? Only two, maybe three sunrises have passed since I entered this cave and spoke to Shining Light! It is the cold season!”

Eagle swooped and dove.

White Elk raised his gaze. “Blue sky. No grey snow clouds. How is this so?”

A woman’s voice spoke. “When next you see this season, you must prepare to go with Golden Fox on her journey. Others will come, but Golden Fox must lead. You will be her helper in all things.”

Black clouds raced through the sky, and cold took the land. Plants withered, and shrubs dropped their leaves and became bare. The mustangs vanished.

White Elk rushed back inside the cave and breathed life into the sleeping fire. “I saw no one, but heard a woman’s voice!” He snuggled with Sun Snow in the robe. “Have you seen the water, girl? How long have I been here? Ah! The water bladder!” He grabbed for it the same time another hand did.

A woman with bloody wrists tossed it behind her. “You need to listen, not drink. Tell your wolf to stop growling at me.”

“She can see you?”

“Do you think animals are blind, boy? Of course, she can see me. It is only Humans who are blind to the Spirit Land.”

“Why... why are you here?”

The woman tossed her head back and laughed. “Have you not heard of me, of my shame? I am Yellow Moon.” Her wrist dripped with blood.

“I... I have.”

“You must help rescue the people.”

“What people? How can I help rescue them? I have no Power.”

“All will be known as the sunrises follow the sunsets. The Power to help others, boy, lies within each of us. It is the greatest of all Powers.”

“Where are these people? When am I to help rescue them?”

“When the land turns green, you will know what to do. Do not fail, boy. I tire of being trapped in this tightness.”

“What tightness do you speak of, Yellow Moon? I do not understand.”

Though he strained to see her, she had gone.

He leaned against the rough stone of the cave. Sun Snow pressed against his leg, and he dug his hand into the thick fur around her neck. With his other hand, he rubbed burning eyes. More smoke filled the cave, and he coughed until his chest hurt. Clawing up the cave wall, he sucked in air and stamped out the fire. Finally, the smoke blew from the cave, yet he could not seem to draw a deep breath.

He climbed out of the cave and stared back at it. “Why has the cave shrunk?”

“To force you out of it, White Elk Who Runs With Wolf. Sit, there is much room.”

White Elk peered around, but saw no one. Still, he answered the voice. “This is only a small ledge!”

“Sit, boy.” An animal with the head and neck of a white elk, but with the body of a wolf, sat next to White Elk.

Intense blue light surrounded the Elk-Wolf, so bright that even as White Elk squeezed his watering eyes against it, he leaned toward it.

The body of the wolf pressed close against his leg, and a growly low voice said, “Beautiful, is it not?”

White Elk turned his head in the direction of the Elk’s gaze, and sucked in a breath. They sat high on a mountain ledge, and below them, the land rolled out as far as he could see. The beauty gripped his heart so hard that he cried.

“So much, the eye cannot see it all. Yet, one day, this will not be so. Humans will take and take and give nothing back to our Mother. They will rip into her flesh and dig out her bones. They will care nothing when the wild ones cry, and when the great forests weep.”

The Elk-Wolf morphed into a woman. Her white hair floated around her, glistening with brilliant blue sparks. Indigo blue swirled around and sometimes filled her black eyes, which held all the sorrow of all the Peoples.

“We are one. The Mother is where our children will suckle. The animals are our friends and our relatives, and when their voices fall silent, our own hearts will shatter as ice against rock.”

The blue swirled around her. She became Elk-Wolf again, and her paw reached out to touch his arm.

He stretched out his hand, which sank into the blue around her, and gripped the warmth of her paw.

“Look below, boy.”

He leaned over and gazed at the land far below. The air grew thick with black dust. Noises such as he had never heard clamored so loud that his ears ached. Great gashes ripped open the Mother’s body, and a black stinking substance oozed out like blood from a deadly wound. Tears of sorrow filled his eyes.

“Already the Mother cries out in faraway places across the salty waters. Already the air is so black that the Birds breathe it and die. Humans fight to carve up the Mother like a piece of meat. They fight over her body and kill their brothers and sisters. Blood soaks into the dirt, turning it rancid as spoiled meat. Even now, the Humans of every bloodline ride met-al monsters that breathe black smoke.

“The blood of the Peoples will soak the Mother. Their bodies will lie beneath Father Sun, with no one to sing them to the campfires in the sky, or to lay them in the trees. Many of the Peoples will turn from the ways of their mothers and fathers. They will go to the wooden lodges to live, and to die.

“Children will cry out beneath the hands of their parents. Elders will die because no one will bring them food. Hope will become as lost as water soaked in the driest dirt.”

“No!” White Elk screamed. “No! Please, no.” Sobs shook his body, and he hid his face in his hands.

“For many cycles of seasons, our Peoples will despair. Many will drink the poisoned water, so they can hide from their fear and their pain. You, White Elk, must help Golden Fox rescue our Peoples. You must help keep the stories of our Peoples alive, and passed from one generation to the next. Only the stories will save the Peoples. All the Peoples, of many colors, will suffer the same fate.”

She nodded her head, and the Mother shook. Pebbles and stones rained down on the land below, and a great cloud of dust billowed up. At the far edge of the land, great walls of water rose higher and higher, then crashed onto the sandy shore. People screamed, and bodies of people and animals floated on the churning waters. Fires flashed through forests, until only charred tree bodies stood where once green branches had provided shelter and food for both humans and animals.

“I will take you through what is called ‘the true giving,’ the Sundance.”

He blinked his eyes and found himself standing next to a tree that had been taken from the forest. Its branches had been stripped, and the body of the tree had been planted deep into the Mother. From the top of the tree, rawhide strips hung.

A man came and pierced White Elk’s chest with the Eagle claws, then tied the claws to a rawhide strip that reached to the top of the tree.

White Elk gritted his teeth and let no sound come from his lips.

The man placed an Eagle bone between White Elk’s lips, and when he blew, it sounded as Eagle calling out.

“The warm season has come, the time of when chokecherries are ripe. The special tree has called to us, and has been taken from among its people so that it might become the center around which you dance. Dance and pray, and blow the Eagle Bone. For four sunrises, give to Great Mystery your body, your mind, and your Spirit. Pull, White Elk. Pull until you become free.”

As White Elk danced, he blew hard on the bone whistle and pulled against the claws buried in his chest. A stream of blood ran beneath the claws where they pulled his skin forward. When the pain grew until it nearly broke his mind, he blew harder on the whistle and pulled harder against the claws. All the while, he danced and prayed.

“‘Pray for the good of the people, for the sick, the unborn, for yourself, for the Mother. You have nothing that is truly yours, except your body. Give all that you have for all that has been given to you.”

The voice floated around his head as he danced.

“Dance until Eagle’s claws rip through your skin and you fall to the dirt. When the pain is so great that your mind buries itself inside, and your Spirit becomes open, then a vision will come to you. A vision will show you the path you must follow. Listen to the Spirits!”

The Eagle claws pulled at his skin, and his chest pulled with them. He leaned back, hands at his side, and blew the bone whistle. He danced forward and backward, pulling hard, repeating this many times.

He ripped the claws loose, and fell.

***

Many Peoples cowered inside an open space, surrounded by tree bodies that made high walls, but with nothing to shelter them from Father Sun and Sister Rain. A hairy-face stood in the middle, cracking a long rope. Each time the rope touched someone’s back, the skin split and blood ran.

White Elk scrambled to his feet and ran toward a woman who bled beneath the hairy-face’s rope. “Stop! No more! My people! I come to take them home!”

“Are you willing to die to protect your people, White Elk?”

“Yes!”

An ax swung toward his head. Just before it cleaved his skull, it vanished.

“Will you die to protect Wolf, White Elk?”

“Yes! Wolf is my Soul, my being.”

A fire stick roared and something hot burned through his chest. Blood poured from the wound as White Elk fell to the ground. Blackness swirled until he could see no more, and then only silence surrounded him.

When his eyes opened, he stood next to the cave. Sun Snow lay against his leg as Father Sun sparkled on the field of snow that stretched beyond the cave entrance.

A figure wavered into sight beside him. He jerked back, clutching Sun Snow, and the wolf pup licked his cheeks.

“Why do you fear, White Elk?”

“Who... who are you?”

“I am Blue Night Sky. As I once taught Shining Light, I come now to teach you.”

Sister Wind blew his hair over his face, but did not touch the long, dark strands of the elder’s hair.

“Is this real?”

With a finger, she pointed toward his chest.

He gazed down at the blood trickling from Eagle claw wounds. Tears flooded his eyes. “I am blessed.”

“Yes, Brother, you are blessed. More than you know.”

“Sun Snow, you speak?”

She raised her muzzle to stare at him. “I speak, and you must learn to listen. I may not use my voice, but watch me, see how I move. I watch you always. Pay heed to everyone’s movement. You will learn much. Watch all life. Pay heed to Birds. Maybe they sing, maybe they do not. Learn why.

“Keep your inside eyes as open as you do your outside eyes. Always listen to whispers in your mind, in the wind, in the trees, in the squeak of Mouse. Plants make their own words to speak to their kind. Reach out, touch them, and feel what they say. If a stone attracts you, find out why. Stones are the oldest beings on the Mother and have much wisdom. Spirits may not always speak words, but they might whisper signs. Will the sign be written by our Mother, or will the sign be found amid the many noises of Humans? None can say.

“Some humans smile and offer you their hand, while their knife seeks your back. Watch their eyes, movements of their body, as you would Mountain Lion. Feel... always feel. As you need to do now. Listen. What do you hear? Smell? Taste, feel, see?”

White Elk cocked his head and slowed his breathing. “I hear birds, mustangs... smell mustangs... taste... taste dust... feel.... I feel danger.” He jumped up.

“Sit, boy. What danger do you feel? Humans? Or animals?”

He eased down next to Sun Snow. “I smell snow. It comes fast. Cloud! I must—”

“Your mustang already knows. She has already found shelter. If you had watched her, you would have known sooner.” Sun Snow yawned and stretched, then headed for the cave. “Come, we will eat, drink, and I will teach you how to be Wolf. And you will see with all of your eyes.”