After awhile the cubs run off along the bank, splashing in the shallows. But the she-wolf stays, staring and alert. Her eyes, no longer lit by the sun as she stares at me are deep as yellow pools. She makes no sound, just looks at me. I move my hand a little, to touch her; she moves back warily. Slowly, slowly I move, until my hand is outstretched towards her. She leans forward, and sniffs my fingers. Her muzzle is soft, her whiskers tickle and her breath is soft and warm. She licks my hand and I am singing on the inside with joy. Then she turns aside, sniffing the grass around my fishing place before she gulps down the salmon that is Morag's. She examines the hook and line, then moves to go.
I stand up, longing for her to stay. "thank you. " I say softly.
The she-wolf turns again, her head now lit with the sparkling sunlight. Her breath steams in the cool air and tiny insects dance above her. She smells of the earth and summer wind.
With the strangest feeling tugging at my heart I watch her follow after her cubs. Then I fish again, but catch nothing this time for Morag. I fear her anger, but I fear being alone during the mid-day even more. I pick up the hook and line and begin the long walk back along the forest ways to a place that is no longer home.
YOU ARE READING
Sephtis
FantasyBook 1 of the Wolf-Warrior series. (This book can be read apart from the series.) Cursed-one. It is the name given to Sephtis by the people of the village, whom she has served since her sixteenth summer. It is a name that is used with hate and scorn...
