Wolves of the Beyond 02 - Shadow Wolf

his back legs was twisted so that the paw was actually reversed. “Veneration and obeisance practices are suspended during the games. They are a waste of time when such important business is being conducted.
    “I am here to remind you all that you should be thinking about your story bones. In the old days, it was permitted to gnaw three, even four bones to tell a story. But during the time of our late and venerable Fengo Hamish, it was decided that it was even more challenging to be concise. So for your stories, my advice is to keep the focus narrow, prove a single point or follow a single idea, but develop it with specific examples and facts. Try to avoid clichés.”
    Edme raised a paw, “Pardon me, Honorable Fengo,but might you give an example of a really good story bone that a gnaw wolf from the past has carved?”
    “Aah, very good question. Undoubtedly, the very best bone ever gnawed was that of our late Fengo Hamish, telling the story of how he and the late king of Ga’Hoole, Coryn, first met when Coryn came to the Beyond as an outcast from his mother’s hollow. It was not so much the events of the story but the deep feelings he expressed. It was an outcast’s story of another outcast. It was as if Hamish had to get outside himself and his own agonies before he understood them and the world in which he lived. Hamish showed Coryn’s agony in being an outcast, unloved, nay hated, by his tyrannical mother, Nyra, and yet cursed with a face so similar to hers that, in his wandering, he provoked fear wherever he went. The high point of the story occurred when Hamish first meets Coryn. He described the spark between them that kindled their long friendship. Simply gnawed, this bone—a tibia, I believe, from a musk ox—told a tale of profound friendship.”
    It was as if he had to get outside himself and his own agonies before he understood them and the world in which he lived . The words of the Fengo Finbar resonated deep in Faolan’s marrow.
    The Fengo cocked his head to one side and closed his eyes until there was just a slit of green light fromeach. He seemed to be contemplating something in the distant past. “A bone gnawed with such compassion seemed to touch the marrow of all wolves. Classic. A true classic.” Then the Fengo walked away without saying another word, as if he was still in the thrall of that memorable bone.
    The gnaw wolves of the circle all looked at one another, undoubtedly with the same thought. How will I ever match that? But Faolan was not thinking of bones or the competition at all. It was as if he had moved outside his own body. He was on that ridge again where the pup had been murdered. Murdered by a wolf!
    He was trying to imagine the killer winding up that steep incline to the flat rock on the top. How long had it been after Faolan had left? If he had stayed and just kept watch over the poor little pup, would she have died before the murderer could get to her? But if he had stayed, would he have been tempted to save her? Questions whirled through Faolan’s mind as the other wolves gnawed. He had thought there was more to the pup’s story, but never had he imagined it would be so complicated and so gruesome.
     
    A sleeping den was reserved for the competing gnaw wolves, but Faolan preferred to sleep alone. For even after a day of working, the gnaw wolves often talked long into the night, and the constant discussion of the competition put Faolan on edge. Although everyone was careful not to reveal too much about the story he or she was carving, they loved to discuss certain challenges they were encountering. Faolan had yet even to come up with an idea for his story, so he had nothing to reveal. He wasn’t worried. He knew that, sooner or later, he would think of something. Many of the stories focused on the gnaw wolves’ deformities and how they overcame them. Edme’s was particularly affecting, describing how she began to understand that she did not necessarily miss the eye she was born without, but thought of it instead as hovering above her in the sky, looking down upon her and giving her courage.
    Creakle insisted that although he was missing a paw, he possessed what he called a lochin paw that served him well and had forced the muscles in his leg to become much stronger. Therefore, he was gnawing a bone about his great leap in the kill rush that brought down the caribou.
    Heep was rather reserved about his own bone, but,when pressed by Tearlach, replied quickly—a