A Night Anew [990 RWH], by Dina Grozev
A wolf cub wriggled in Dreamshadow's gentle arms, as much energy as boundless love, as much light as promise was alive in the little one. The dreamspeaker's beloved, golden-skinned Tumbleleaf had died of old age last season, the only wolf-bond that she had ever known.
This tiny she-wolf full of play that she held was coloured as a dark night spent deep in the forest, and, like such a pleasant evening, she was here and now. She was sure to banish Dreamshadow's enduring grief for packmate and wolf-brother, but, the elf wondered, would remembrance of that which had gone before be lost along with it?
The bond was true and the dreamspeaker knew there was no turning back. The elders had assured her Tumbleleaf would not be replaced, but still, this worry gnawed at her.
Dreamshadow, of all members of the tribe, knew well the difference between the NOW of wolf thought and the spirit world. Both were timeless on their own planes, but while one was ethereal, one was unabashedly hewn from grit.
Wolf's blood had its limitations. For her, she bumped up against them every day, and recognized that in going out she would always fall short of what might be achieved. However, for the tribe it was a defence. To linger was a costly distraction. The NOW helped all in the pack be the best hunters and survivors they could be in this woefully finite world.
She knew the vastness of the spirit world well enough. There would be time for remembering in the space past flesh and blood, however...
When just a cub herself Dreamshadow had named Tumbleleaf without fully being aware that part of her sire Goldleaf's name was a piece of it. As they were now both gone, she now could not be unaware of it.
Though elves were sentimental creatures they were not always much for souvenirs or talismans. The elfin way was one of howls and of sending pictures.
But, who was to say worlds could not be bridged?
From that she decided. All of Dreamshadow's wolves would share the matter of the names from her sire and mother. That was, she amended, looking at the squirming cub in her lap, unless a wolf was one name all its own.
"So what's her name, Dreamshadow?" Duskwater called eagerly, not quite tired of waiting.
Red-faced, the maiden looked at her friend, then about herself at all the elves who stood closely by the wolf's den, gathered to witness the event. Just how long had she been crouching here clutching the cub?
At a loss for words she looked down at her new bond.
Little lupine eyes stared brightly up at her, as if knowing her need, yet how was that possible?
Dreamshadow's gaze was captured again by the sleek, black coat of the cub and she thought again of tribute, thought better of it, then thought of it again.
**Her name is Newnight,** she sent for all to hear and was quite sure that nearby three spirits rejoiced.