The Crossing

Etha was the first to arrive at the clearing, a heavy deerhide bag slung over her shoulder, a long spear that doubled as a walking stick held lightly in her hand. She was dressed for travel, in fur-lined leggings under a heavy goatskin tunic, and hide boots with thick soles made for long distance trekking. She loved to journey, and hoped the others would arrive soon.

Etha had come to the Riana Valley with her cousins, Pyre and Agua, four moons before. Here they’d been trained in the Rianan arts of mindspeak and imagery. The young tribeswoman had enjoyed her summer away, but she missed her family and the familiar environs of her home beyond the Kuran River, and she was ready to return.

Eventually, the others joined her, eight travelers who would escort Etha and her cousins to their home at Eagle Peak. Thin fog obscured the sun, which peeked out occasionally as they trekked steadily down out of the higher elevation of Riana towards the Kuran Riverlands. The mist cleared just as the sun edged along the horizon, and Etha saw a flight of vultures circling ominously above the next hillcrest.

“Hold up,” Tulie called out, gesturing for the travelers to slow their pace. Tulie was the unofficial leader of the group; she was the Rianan Heir and highly respected for her experience in teaching survival skills to the youth of Kakaesia.

As they crested the hill, they were astonished to observe a small wolf cub snarling and snapping in fury at a vulture as it swooped down and tried to land next to the mother wolf, which lay in a pool of blood, seeping from a fatal head wound.

“Oh, the poor thing,” Etha exclaimed, as the others came up beside her.

“It looks like she’s been gored by a hoof,” Pyre suggested.

“Maybe she attacked a herd of deer and got struck,” said another.

“I wonder what she’s doing this far west,” Tulie mused, as the cub scampered into a nearby den of rocks. "Wolves are so rare in this part of Kakaesia. Be alert. There could be others nearby."

“Curious little thing, isn’t it.” Agua admired, seeing the pup peering at them from the relative safety of its shelter.

This close, Etha could see it had pale green eyes and whitish, grey fur, like its mother; except the cub had a patch of brown fur on its chest and front paws. The markings were quite distinctive, and Etha recognized him from an encounter she had had with the young animal just a handful of days before; when she’d first learned to touch the spirit of Gaea and had celebrated the bond.

The young wolf locked eyes with Etha for a long moment, as if it remembered her too. Then, turning his gaze upon his dead mother, he gave a soft whimper and scooted away deeper into the rocks.

“We’ll stop here for the night,” Tulie decided. “Petya, you and Misha gather firewood. Bring enough to burn overnight in case there are other predators nearby.”

“What do you suggest we do with that?” Elder Celynn nodded towards the dead wolf. “It’s such a beautiful animal.”

“If we were on a hunt, it would go to whoever made the kill,” Tulie said, fidgeting in indecision.

“It would be a shame to damage such a beautiful pelt,” Pyre advised. “Davos, I hear you’re one of the best skinners in Kakaesia. Perhaps you would like it?”

It took quite a while for Davos to finish the job, and afterwards to move the carcass away from camp. They sat up late around the fire, admiring Davos’ stone and bone tools that he used so expertly; discussing the curing process that would render the pelt soft and pliable. It was quite late when the group settled down to sleep for the night.

Etha was awakened suddenly near dawn to the sound of a low, menacing growl emanating from a creature that crouched down by her leg, where it had slipped out from her bedroll. Small white teeth gleamed in the dark, beast eyes reflecting from the firelight. Etha’s heart beat erratically. She struggled to make sense of what was happening, when Pyre, in the bedroll next to Etha, used his gift to call fire and brought illumination to the scene.

Tulie was on her feet in the same moment, spear poised to throw at the creature. The wolf, however, was not growling at Etha, but at something on the ground near her exposed leg.

There, coiled and ready to strike was a large, poisonous viper.

“No!” Etha screamed, fearing the spear that flew past her head was meant for the wolf. Instead, it struck the viper dead on, causing the cub to jump back in shock, retreating quickly from the camp.

“That was close!” Agua exclaimed. “I thought the wolf was coming after you; but he may have saved your life!”

“I think so too,” Tulie sounded impressed. “I’ve never known a wild animal to protect a person before. That was amazing.”

Etha was pleased and captivated to see the cub still there in the morning, peering at her from its den. It looked hungry and forlorn. When she thought no one was watching, Etha approached the rock warren to leave a portion of her morning meal. The wolf didn’t even growl at her. She hoped the pup had been weaned off its mother’s milk and could eat the rabbit meat she’d shredded.

Agua tried to distract Etha when it was time to go, sensing her distress at leaving the cub behind, for it would not have occurred to her to try to capture or tame a wild animal. Not even one that had saved her life.


Tulie cautioned everyone to be on their guard against further wolves or predators, but aside from a herd of gazelle, there was no other sign of wildlife as they descended out of the forested hills and onto the open steppe that ran alongside the Kuran River.

Etha was enchanted when she noticed the cub following behind. Over the next few days, she found strategic places to leave bits of food for him, even though Tulie warned her not to do so. Tulie had even tried to chase the beast away when it came too near. The cub would run off to a place of safety, but Etha saw that it continued to follow them. Etha was no longer in a hurry to get home, for she had no idea what would become of the wolf when they arrived at Eagle Peak.

The river crossing ran fast and cold, but in the place of crossing it was only ankle deep and easily traversed. Etha was the last to cross, grieving to leave the cub behind, for she had grown attached to him. When she turned back, he was whimpering and howling at the river’s edge; clearly afraid of the water, and, Etha supposed, afraid of being left alone.

“Come on, Sasha,” She whispered the name, holding her breath with hope and desire. Then her heart leapt with joy when, at last, the wolf stepped boldly into the river and began a crossing of its own.