Wolves of the Beyond 02 - Shadow Wolf

inscriptions of the Great Chain—no surprise there! And then, a bone of our own making.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “A story bone. That, I think, will be the most difficult. When we all traveled to the west country to perform the mourning ceremonies for the great chieftain of the MacDuncan clan, they had us practice on some bones. We carved grieving bones for Duncan MacDuncan, and the lords came around and told us what was good and what wasn’t in our carving.”
    Faolan couldn’t help but think how far behind he must be without the benefit of this early training.
    “And then there is a byrrgis in which we are not sweepers.” The Whistler nodded at Faolan. “You’ll do well.”
    Faolan dropped his head. “I hope so,” he mumbled.
    “I know so. You’re built for it.”
    They came up on the pack’s encampment, and there was no time to talk further.
    The camp was beneath an immense ledge of blue rock veined with white quartz and glistening with tiny bright crystals. Faolan had taken up his proper position behind the Whistler and had shifted the bone of shame from under his chin to his mouth. It would not do for any of the pack to know that the two gnaw wolves had passed the time chatting amiably.
    “Beautiful, isn’t it?” the Whistler whispered to Faolan, and nodded at the rock.
    But Faolan couldn’t answer with the bone in his mouth.
    He wondered about the rock. It looked as if the stars had tumbled from the sky and rooted in the stone. A handsome black male came out from behind it and gave a gruff greeting to the Whistler and a harsh cuff to Faolan’s ear. Faolan didn’t mind, but it seemed so odd that, moments before, he had been enjoying the easy companionship of another wolf, and now he was once more an object of abuse.
    “Lachlana and Tamsen are waiting, over there.” The black wolf nodded toward the overhang of the blue rock. Faolan could see other wolves pressing through the shadows and felt their narrowed eyes clamp down on him. Their curiosity was unnerving. Before, he was the freakish wolf who had jumped for the sun, and he was now the shamed wolf who had cracked the byrrgis .
    Off to one side, the Whistler watched the other wolves. He could tell they were amazed by Faolan’s size and his vigor, for even when Faolan was groveling in the dirt, he did not look like a gnaw wolf. His coat was too sleek; there was nothing raggedy about him. They were utterly baffled.
    “I’ve never seen such a gnaw wolf,” one young male said with a tinge of envy in his voice.
    The Whistler wondered what the other wolves might think if they knew that, just hours before, Faolan had ridden a buck to death. The Whistler worried about this strange young gnaw wolf. He’s outside anything they’ve ever imagined!
    And although Faolan immediately sank to his belly and began the crawl of humiliation toward the two outflankers, a shadow of dignity clung to him.
    Faolan caught only a glimpse of the two outflankers before he began crawling, but he saw that they were powerful wolves with almost identical creamy-hued pelts. He judged them to be sisters. When he reached their paws, he stopped and dropped the bone of shame. The slightly smaller wolf picked up the bone quickly, but not before giving Faolan a sharp bite to the nose. Then her sister presented him with a fresh bone, a fragment of an antler. This was the contrition bone he was to carve. But first the pack leader came forward to read the bone of shame. The two outflankers took several steps back.
    Standing directly over Faolan’s head, Dain began to read in a deep, sonorous voice, “As recorded by the gnaw wolf, Heep, of the River Pack of the MacDuncan clan…”
    Faolan could not help but flinch as he heard Heep’sname spoken. I’d better get used to this, he thought. I’m going to have to hear it again and again!
    “On the morning after the fifteenth night of the Caribou Moon, a byrrgis was assembled on the Burn in pursuit of a bull moose….”
    By the fifth “humble” in Heep’s story, Faolan thought he detected a snicker among the assembled wolves. This momentarily heartened Faolan, but not for long.
    “He was really bad, wasn’t he, Mum?” he heard a little pup say.
    “Indeed!” his mum replied.
    Faolan pressed his tail more tightly between his legs and shut his eyes. Why had he been such a fool? Duncan MacDuncan’s words once again echoed in his ear. You have no sense.
    I’m big but I’m stupid, Faolan thought. Why did I ever try to