Sephtis

32. The stream.

Zahar and I are going to the stream, Amitz following closely behind. For once Kavah comes with us, leaving the cubs under Shamar's watchful eyes. He walks around the limits of his territory, and we go with him, just because we can. Kavah checks his signs that he has placed on bushes, clumps of grass, and trees that border his kingdom; and he renews them. These are my paths, and this is my hunting grounds, he says.

We walk within his territory, on narrow pathways worn down by the large paws of the wolves. I place my feet in the prints Zahar leaves in the dust; only the tip of my toes extend beyond them. I am frail compared to her. She knows my thoughts, and turns to bark at me.

"I am not to frail for a race though," I say, clapping my hands. She begins to run, swift and silent. I feel my skin ripple and tear as I let my wings free. The pace is slow for Zahar, and Amitz is gently loping behind me, but my wings beat hard to keep close to my wolf mother. Out of the side of my eye I see Kavah running along with us, stopping often to renew his marks with fresh urine. There is a power running with the wolves, and awesome unity, greater even then the great flights down the mountain I had taken with the village every blood moon.

We come to the stream and I bound into the water. Because it is shallow I lie down in it, letting it wash and bubble over me. As I lie there, I sing, it is a silly, high song about a beaver. At the edge of the stream the three wolves listen, their mouths open, their tongues hanging out.

"No need to laugh at me. I sang for a King's wife, and at a village's feast, my voice is not that rough," I say with a smile.

Kavah closes his eyes and comes down to the stream to drink. Zahar drinks to, standing leg deep in the stream, near where I lay, and I tickle her face with my toes, she takes my foot in her mouth and bites me softly. I hear Amitz panting further up the stream, and I shift my head to see him, laying half in and half out of the water, his eyes closed in bliss as the water cools his body.

We fish for awhile, and the wolves have a good feed. I am able to seize two small trout, they will make a good meal for later, once we return to the den.

After we have fished we lie on the mossy rocks by the stream to rest. The forest is cool and still around us, but the sun is hot from where it shines in a patch on my right breast, and I look down and notice how brown I have become, no longer do I look like one of the night, instead I now look like one of the day, and I am happy.

I often lie naked in the sun now, to dry after I bathe, or just to rest in the clearing by the den. Sometimes I need my dress when I run with Kavah on his paths on the far, far edges of the territory, for he runs lower then I do, and his ways are crossed with thorns and branches that slash at my arms and chest.
I try to not go beyond his territory if I can help it, and if I'm alone and do stray, Kavah howls to warn me, and to tell others that I am not a hunter, and am only passing through.

The wolves' understanding of me still leaves me amazed and greatly humbled. I have only to think, to fear or hurt, and they know. Yet I miss the company of my own kind, and I am angry at myself for missing it. There is such a great battle waging within me. And Kavah knows, and lifts his head to press his nose to my chest. I stroke his soft ears, and massive brow.

"What do I miss, my kinsman? Do I miss the fury and the fighting, the stories of war and songs of pain? Do I miss the villages hate and distrust? It's scorn for me, and it's blame?" I ask. "There is no one there who loves me now, only one,Yet he loves another more. Kavah, why can I not understand my own people? They misjudge me, deceive me, tease me, and kill me quickly with their hate, yet slowly with their love. Tell me great wolf, tell me I am mad to long for them, to long for him."

His tawny, all too human eyes blaze into mine. Then, in a single movement he stands, and leaps off the rock into the still warm shallows of the stream. Bright droplets cascade about him, as he crouches low on his forelegs, his tail waving from side to side, making the water fly. Grinning and whining he watches me sideways, he lifts one dripping paw, whining again. I understand, and I am amazed. Kavah wants to play a game!

I fling myself into the water, my longing for my people forgotten, as, for the first time, I wrestle and play with Kavah like I would with the cubs. Even Amitz's hot gaze on my back does not bother me.