hear a whine in my voice. I had counted on the ravens’ support. How else would we get the humans to follow us?
One of the female ravens strode over to us. I’d heard Tlitoo call her Jlela.
“He has other things he must do,” Jlela said.
“Are you coming, Neja?” said the other female in a voice brash even for a raven.
“That is not my name, Nlitsa!” Tlitoo hissed. “I am Tlitoo, named for Tlitookilakin.” His voice rose. “I am the son of Sleekwing and Rainsong, born of the Small Willow Grove of the Wide Valley.”
Jlela lifted her wings. “Whatever you wish to call yourself, we must go. Unless you want to have the wolflets give you whining lessons?” She walked away, looked back at Tlitoo, and flew into the woods. Tlitoo watched her for a moment.
“I must go,” he said. “I must go to the other ravens.” His voice was so troubled I didn’t have the heart to argue with him. We would have to find another way to hunt with the humans.
“When will you be back?” I asked.
Tlitoo’s eyes found mine, and for the first time since I’d known him, I saw fear in them.
“I do not know, wolflet. I will find you when I can. I will help you if I can. But I do not know.” Before I could ask him more, ask him if I could help, he took flight, following the female ravens.
“There’s something’s going on with that bird,” Ázzuen said.
In the woods just across the stream from us, a raven shrieked. The ancient raven I had seen at the Stone Circle soared across the stream, flying so low that Ázzuen and I had to duck to avoid him.
I smelled juniper and smoke, the scent of the spiritwolf, Lydda. The scent seemed to well up from the stream itself. I darted to the water’s edge, and the scent rose into the air and wafted across the stream. I saw a flash of a tail disappearing into the woods beyond. The scent disappeared.
“Kaala!” Ázzuen said. “We have to go.”
“I know,” I said. I wanted to follow the scent but Ruuqo and Rissa would be waiting for us. Slowly, I began to make my way along the stream, back toward the river and Fallen Tree.
6
E veryone was napping in the late morning sun when we arrived, so I sank down into the pack-smelling earth and slept. I dreamt of the young spiritwolf. I dreamt that she came into the world of life to stay and that she helped me with the humans. In my dream I was so happy that someone else, someone older and smarter, had taken on the humans. Then the spiritwolf’s face turned into my mother’s face, looking down at me and smiling. When Ázzuen poked me awake with sharp jabs of his nose, I was furious with him for interrupting a dream of my mother.
“Someone’s coming, Kaala,” he said, when I awoke growling at him. “A stranger wolf.”
I came more fully awake to see that every wolf in the pack was standing, watching the gap between the two large oaks that guarded Fallen Tree. Werrna barked, half in welcome, half in warning. No one was upset or growling; they all watched in anticipation as a wolf I didn’t know crept to the edge of Fallen Tree, stopped, and waited. The wolf smelled of Swift River and was giving off a scent of friendliness and entreaty. Rissa’s tail began to wag.
The stranger walked into Fallen Tree. He was a dark gray wolf who looked to be the about the same age as Yllin and Minn, and the Swift River scent was strong upon him. Yllin gave a small yip but stood still, waiting for the new wolf to greet Ruuqo and Rissa. The wolf was clearly Swift River, but I didn’t know if he had left by choice or if he’d been forced from the pack, if he was a wolf in good standing or an exile. He stopped four wolflengths away from the leaderwolves and lowered himself to his belly. He was sleek and healthy, and he smelled of plants and animals I did not know.
Ruuqo dipped his head the slightest bit, and the young wolf darted forward. Ruuqo’s tail began to wave, and Rissa dipped down onto her elbows, her hindquarters raised high in the
One of the female ravens strode over to us. I’d heard Tlitoo call her Jlela.
“He has other things he must do,” Jlela said.
“Are you coming, Neja?” said the other female in a voice brash even for a raven.
“That is not my name, Nlitsa!” Tlitoo hissed. “I am Tlitoo, named for Tlitookilakin.” His voice rose. “I am the son of Sleekwing and Rainsong, born of the Small Willow Grove of the Wide Valley.”
Jlela lifted her wings. “Whatever you wish to call yourself, we must go. Unless you want to have the wolflets give you whining lessons?” She walked away, looked back at Tlitoo, and flew into the woods. Tlitoo watched her for a moment.
“I must go,” he said. “I must go to the other ravens.” His voice was so troubled I didn’t have the heart to argue with him. We would have to find another way to hunt with the humans.
“When will you be back?” I asked.
Tlitoo’s eyes found mine, and for the first time since I’d known him, I saw fear in them.
“I do not know, wolflet. I will find you when I can. I will help you if I can. But I do not know.” Before I could ask him more, ask him if I could help, he took flight, following the female ravens.
“There’s something’s going on with that bird,” Ázzuen said.
In the woods just across the stream from us, a raven shrieked. The ancient raven I had seen at the Stone Circle soared across the stream, flying so low that Ázzuen and I had to duck to avoid him.
I smelled juniper and smoke, the scent of the spiritwolf, Lydda. The scent seemed to well up from the stream itself. I darted to the water’s edge, and the scent rose into the air and wafted across the stream. I saw a flash of a tail disappearing into the woods beyond. The scent disappeared.
“Kaala!” Ázzuen said. “We have to go.”
“I know,” I said. I wanted to follow the scent but Ruuqo and Rissa would be waiting for us. Slowly, I began to make my way along the stream, back toward the river and Fallen Tree.
6
E veryone was napping in the late morning sun when we arrived, so I sank down into the pack-smelling earth and slept. I dreamt of the young spiritwolf. I dreamt that she came into the world of life to stay and that she helped me with the humans. In my dream I was so happy that someone else, someone older and smarter, had taken on the humans. Then the spiritwolf’s face turned into my mother’s face, looking down at me and smiling. When Ázzuen poked me awake with sharp jabs of his nose, I was furious with him for interrupting a dream of my mother.
“Someone’s coming, Kaala,” he said, when I awoke growling at him. “A stranger wolf.”
I came more fully awake to see that every wolf in the pack was standing, watching the gap between the two large oaks that guarded Fallen Tree. Werrna barked, half in welcome, half in warning. No one was upset or growling; they all watched in anticipation as a wolf I didn’t know crept to the edge of Fallen Tree, stopped, and waited. The wolf smelled of Swift River and was giving off a scent of friendliness and entreaty. Rissa’s tail began to wag.
The stranger walked into Fallen Tree. He was a dark gray wolf who looked to be the about the same age as Yllin and Minn, and the Swift River scent was strong upon him. Yllin gave a small yip but stood still, waiting for the new wolf to greet Ruuqo and Rissa. The wolf was clearly Swift River, but I didn’t know if he had left by choice or if he’d been forced from the pack, if he was a wolf in good standing or an exile. He stopped four wolflengths away from the leaderwolves and lowered himself to his belly. He was sleek and healthy, and he smelled of plants and animals I did not know.
Ruuqo dipped his head the slightest bit, and the young wolf darted forward. Ruuqo’s tail began to wave, and Rissa dipped down onto her elbows, her hindquarters raised high in the
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