People of the Black Sun(149)

As I am.

Hiyawento puts a companionable hand on my shoulder. Only Hiyawento, who knew her and loved her, can understand that this one single act of an old grieving wolf rends my heart like nothing else.

“I believe there is a bridge, Odion. I believe Gitchi will be waiting for you on this side, to help you across, and she will run to meet you on the other side.”

As evening slowly descends around us, the trees drip dampness. A soft pattering fills the forest.

I listen to it and watch Gitchi. He hasn’t moved. His shining yellow eyes monitor the meadow.

“I’m going to sit with him until he’s ready to go,” I say. “You don’t have to stay. I know Zateri and Kahn-Tineta are waiting for you back in the village. Everyone will be feasting. The Songs and storytelling have probably already begun.”

Hiyawento grips my shoulder hard. “I want to sit with him, too.”

Together, we walk out across the meadow, and sit down on either side of the old wolf who waits so patiently, his eyes filled with unbearable longing.