Lone Wolf

of an animal that was not born of her, nor of her kind. It's a wolf, she thought. I seek death, and it seeks life.
    And then she looked up at the sky, searching for the Great Bear constellation. She could not see it, for dawn was breaking, but deep down she knew that this wolf was a message from Ursus, a scolding. She must not think of  death. Her time had not come yet. It wasn't an accident that the pathetic pup had fetched up on her leg. It was a gift from the river.
    "Faolan," she whispered. "I shall call you Faolan." Fao meant both "river" and "wolf." And lan was the word for "gift."
    "You are my gift from the river." And she gathered him to her chest.
    ***
    The Milk Giver? The pup smelled the milky traces in the thick fur and nuzzled toward the source. But the closer he got, the more confused he became. It did not seem the same. The smell was different and the taste as well. And there was a new, frightening sound. The thunderous roar of the river was replaced by a great rhythmic booming, and threaded through the mighty reverberations were gusty bubbling sounds. As the grizzly gently pressed Faolan closer to her teat, the sounds actually shook him. Yet he felt safe.
    It was a different Milk Giver. A huge one, many times bigger than the first, and he was hearing the pumping of her heart and the turbulence of her stomach. Gradually, he became used to the sounds. They blended into the  rushing of the river, folded into the quieter noises of his own sucking.
    He sucked. His world became one of milk. Thick rich milk. He shut his eyes and slept, still sucking.
    ***
    The grizzly looked down on Faolan and huge tears rolled from the corners of her eyes. The river spirit brought you to me. There must be a reason. I shall nurse you through this morning into the day and through the night. A spark can become a flame, a flame a fire.
    She blew her warm gentle breath onto him. The pup's eyes fluttered, and he sank deeper into dreamless sleep.

CHAPTER THREE
    ***
    MILK AND LIGHT

    THE PUP MIGHT HAVE BEEN SENT from Ursus, and the grizzly might have had the best of intentions, but she was at a loss to imagine how she might take care of this pup beyond nursing him. He was a greedy little creature, that was for sure, and he was so different from a bear cub. He smelled different. He sucked differently. And although he was a bit larger than a newborn bear cub when she had found him, he was not fattening up as fast. A bear cub would have doubled its weight by now. The wolf pup had grown some, but not enough. And yet he nursed incessantly. The grizzly worried that her milk was not right, or perhaps she wasn't holding him properly. What did she know about raising a wolf pup? If he had been a sign from Ursus, there should have been more signs. Signs that told her what exactly to do.
    The grizzly told herself every day that the pup was a gift. But she wanted him to be more than just a gift. Did he feel she was strange, too? But what do cubs know? She was startled and nearly chuckled. I called him a cub! And then she realized that even though the pup was a wolf, perhaps they were all alike. Cubs, pups. They think about nothing but milk. Faolan is no different.
    He had paused in his nursing for a moment, and she took the opportunity to pick him up in her huge paws and hold him close to her face. They peered into each other's eyes. His were becoming a lovely green, like the wolves' eyes in the Beyond, and hers were a rich, gleaming brown, so shiny that the tiny wolf could see his reflection in them.
    "You're a funny little creature!" And she stuck out her tongue and dabbed his wet little nose. He gave a happy yip yip.
    "Oh, you like that!" She did it again, and he squealed now with delight.
    She set him down. He immediately rolled onto his back, holding his tiny paws in the air expectantly. The grizzly thought this was a signal that he wanted some tickling. She began to speak with a mixture of words, snorts, and huffs. She wasn't sure if he understood her or not. It didn't matter.
    "Oh, Great Ursus, you want me to do this again, you funny little fellow."
    The words of the wolves and the bears and the owls did not differ much, but the tone and the expressions in the subtler movements of their heads or their eyes created a hidden language strange to other animals, and sometimes incomprehensible.
    Faolan lay on his back, waiting for the huge tongue to tickle his belly. So she did. And the pup leaped up gleefully. This was repeated several