Lone Wolf

where scores of salmon were heaving themselves forward. Thunderheart scooped them from the water or caught them on the fly.
    It was the easiest fishing Faolan had ever done. He paused for a moment and looked at Thunderheart. Facing west, the setting sun turned her eyes gold. He felt a sudden surge of affection sweep through him as he realized how different they were. He had put out of his mind that day months before when they had seen the grizzly mother with the two cubs. He had since then refused to allow such thoughts to enter his mind. Except he now remembered a few days earlier when they had brought down a caribou, and Thunderheart had first mentioned the Outermost and how it might not be a good place for his "kind."
    Thunderheart had mentioned wolves a few times, but  Faolan had never seen any, except for the Star Wolf in the sky. So the notion of a real wolf was vague. The thought of wolves did not trouble him, for when he looked into the golden eyes of Thunderheart, he felt his world was complete. Those eyes offered a universe. He needed nothing else.
    ***
    That evening was their last night in the river den. The next morning, well before dawn, they began their trek to find a winter den in the higher elevations of the Beyond. Thunderheart was particular about her winter den. Most grizzlies dug out dens under large tree roots. But the trees were few in this part of the Beyond, and what trees there were grew at lower elevations. If a bear went above the sparse tree line, there were good natural rock caves to be found, even tunnels in the lava beds. But most important, the snow came earlier in the high country, insulating the den for a longer period of time.
    By mid-morning, they had crossed the broad flat meadow, and Thunderheart was pushing her bulk through the low-growing bracken and nettles at the base of a long slope. They were almost above the tree line. The air was thinner and the going harder. Thunderheart's breath came in labored bellowing huffs, but she marveled at  Faolan, who never seemed to tire. His chest had broadened, she noticed, and she suspected it might have been because of his jumping, which he loved to practice. It was hard to imagine that a brief four months before he had been a whiny little pup dramatically flinging himself onto the dirt and waving his splayed paw in the air. Now he scampered ahead. He had already pounced on a marmot and made quick work of him. His muzzle was still covered in blood.
    Thunderheart had insisted that Faolan consume the liver entirely himself, for she knew that it was rich and would give him fat. She would never cease worrying about his size. And she was not ready yet to warn him about how she changed during the cold sleep. Not yet ... not yet, she told herself.
    ***
    The days had shortened considerably, and by late afternoon, as the long shafts of the setting sun angled across the short grass of the slope, Thunderheart found what she thought might be a suitable winter den. It was near a rock where they had commenced digging. Thunderheart's paws were much larger than Faolan's, but Faolan anchored himself firmly by the four toes of his back paws and dug furiously with his five-toed front paws. The fifth toe was  somewhat smaller, and Thunderheart had wondered once what such a small claw could accomplish. It turned out to be perfect for digging.
    The bear and the wolf had not been working long before both of them struck something hard. Faolan looked up in surprise and paused, but Thunderheart grew excited. She had heard that sound before! It was a hollow kah-kah noise. In another minute, she grunted in delight. They had uncovered a lava bed with a natural tunnel that had been made from the flow of an inactive volcano to the north and west. Off the first tunnel, there was an elevated section that would trap heat and provide good drainage if there were any leaks from above.
    "This is perfect," she said, looking around , "Just perfect."
    "Perfect for winter?" Faolan asked, for he had the feeling Thunderheart was referring to something else.
    The grizzly looked at him now. Her gaze was very serious. "I must explain something to you, pup."
    Faolan felt a dread stir deep within him. Please don't talk about wolves again. Not wolves!
    "I am not sure what wolves do, but bears sleep through the winter. Our hearts grow slower and beat but a few times when there were many beats before."
    "Mine, too! Mine, too!" Faolan said. Although he could feel his heart racing.
    "No,