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Spirals: Shining Light's Saga, #2
Spirals: Shining Light's Saga, #2
Spirals: Shining Light's Saga, #2
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Spirals: Shining Light's Saga, #2

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"Stupendous Series!!! - This book and this series is simply stupendous. Part history, part fantasy and part love story is to only touch the surface of these books." ~ Cecile Croghan "Iluvbooks"

"A Romance of the Spirit - I've read this entire book once, and I've read some parts of it twice. Why? Because it's a romance of the spirit, an evolving dance between character, setting, and knowledge." ~ Von Rupert "Yvonne"

A Holy Man, who lives in both this world and the Spirit world, waits hidden in a cave in the canyons, as a newly made woman runs toward him. She flees her would-be suitor, who wants from her more than she can give.

The Holy Man and his constant companions, a colony of mice, accept the woman within the cave. She worries that he may be crazy, but given her fear of the man who desires her, maybe crazy is not so bad.

In this sequel to Ruby Standing Deer's first novel, Circles, the main character of Shining Light is now grown and with family. He dreams of the woman and the Holy Man in the canyons, and knows that, after four seasons of calm and peace in the Forest of Trees, he must go to them.

He seeks guidance, but the Spirits tell him only that he must rescue these two people. Yet he need not go alone. Ever Shining Light's faithful companion and Wolf Brother, White Paws senses he must follow his Human Brother. Thus, one Human, one Wolf, and their two families set out for the unknown.

The adventure exceeds all of Shining Light's expectations, and he learns more about his place in this world than the Holy Peoples of his band could ever teach him.

EVOLVED PUBLISHING PRESENTS the 2nd book in the extraordinary, award-winning "Shining Light's Saga" series. Take an authentic journey into a culture lost to time and the ravages of "progress." [DRM-Free]

 

LanguageEnglish
Release dateNov 26, 2012
ISBN9781622539536
Spirals: Shining Light's Saga, #2
Author

Ruby Standing Deer

I’ve been a wanderer, and a journeyman newspaper pressman. I’ve spent years rescuing animals and learning from them. They’ve taught me that life does not have to be so hard, if you go with the flow and not against it. My life revolves around writing and my family, which includes, of course, my animals. Two car accidents in the mid-nineties changed my life. I resented it at first, until I understood I had simply been put on another path. It was not an easy one, and continues to be a challenge, but I accepted it, and I learn with each step I take. I write because I am compelled to pass on knowledge. My first book, Circles, is more than just a story of family, or of the people who first settled in the Americas. It is a story of spirituality and the simple humor of everyday life, but also of the fear of the unknown. Life presents us a path; how we choose to navigate that “circle” is up to us.

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    Spirals - Ruby Standing Deer

    Falling Rainbow’s ceremony, a joyous celebration, turned sour when Night Hunter came to her parent’s lodge with three mustangs as an offering for her. Elk Dreaming, her father, refused. Night Hunter could do nothing but walk away and promise to return with his last mustang, the prized male. He gave her father an angry glare as he left.

    Falling Rainbow knew her father did not want his only daughter to go to a man whose face was etched in anger; he’d told her so days before when the man entered their camp. He’d told Night Hunter that his daughter was worth more than mustangs.

    She hoped her father would come up with an impossible request for another gift.

    She backed away into the darkness of their lodge and curled into her mother’s arms. Her mother held her, cooing and rocking her as she had done since Falling Rainbow was a child.

    Tears fell from both women, and the new woman pulled away. Mother, I will never be Night Hunter’s woman. I will leave the band first. Night Hunter is four winters older and I hold no desire in my heart for him. I do not understand why he wants me as his mate. I heard him speaking to his brother about Power. I do not understand.

    I know, Daughter, more that you think I do. But you must also know a man changes with the right woman, and four winters is not so much. Your father is eight winters older than I am. You must not judge a man by his age.

    Her mother reached behind her for a pack. Here. You will find food, a knife, and an extra humpback robe to keep you warm. I knew you would want to go into the canyons, after you ducked into one of the lodges of your friends when he showed up with his brother. Night Hunter will leave soon. I know your father will tell him you have other men who ask for you, and that he must allow each one to speak to him. It is not a lie, Daughter, not really. I have watched young men follow you with their eyes. Come back after maybe two sunrises. I smell snow even this late in the season, so you must walk with care. You can take one of your father’s mustangs.

    Her mother reached out and ran her hands over Falling Rainbow’s face as if memorizing it. Be safe. If the snow starts to fall, you turn around and come home, you understand?

    She nodded and hugged her mother. Taking a mustang would mean hoof prints to follow. She intended to walk where she would leave few footprints, but did not want her mother to worry, so she said nothing.

    She slipped out under the lodge’s edging, and disappeared into the coming darkness.

    ***

    Falling Rainbow did not know which way to go. After two days of walking, the snow, a light fluff at sunrise, had turned into a fierce, howling blizzard. Sleeping on the ground with her robes would leave her shivering too much.

    I should have listened to Mother about the mustang! The snow whisked around in deep circles, and her steps became more labored. Soon darkness would take the land.

    Of all nights, this had to be the one when Sister Moon chooses to hide. I am sure he waits for me still, and I have no more food! Shelter now became more important than finding the paintings in the canyons.

    Many times, she had searched for the paintings. Her parents knew, but no longer worried. The hairy faces had long ago stopped coming this way to hunt for the yellow stone. This is why her people had settled here this last time. The band moved to the new campsite four moons ago, just after the leaves fell, to escape the raids on their old camp.

    Why do they steal our women when they have their own? And why my closest friend? Had I not gone home when I did, I would have been captured along with her.

    She shook the memory from her mind and tightened her light ceremony robe, and the humpback one with the hair on the inside, around herself. She kept her arms inside, her fingers clinging to the outside edges. Neither robe did much to cover her ice-crusted hair.

    Why do these things happen? She stared up searching for blue sky, but found only thick, grey clouds.

    Are the Spirits angry with me? Do they wish me to be Night Hunter’s woman? No, they sent me the dream vision! A vision of the paintings, so they must have plans for me that I do not yet understand.

    I am freezing! Why do you torment me? she yelled, raising her fist to the darkening clouds, but quickly put her hands over her mouth and let her robes fall.

    Angry Spirits might make the storm worse. She just needed shelter, but had no idea where to go. Father Sun had already lowered, and she could not see that well.

    She scooped up both her ceremony robe and the one her mother had made her, and flung them back over herself. Beautiful tinkling shells and quillwork across the bottom of the ceremonial elk hide did little to keep the new woman of fourteen winters warm. Every turn she took looked the same. With so much blowing snow, she could barely keep her eyes open. Her teeth hurt from chattering, and her fingers ached, burning from the cold. She blew into cupped hands, her breath barely warm, and touched her round face, but her numbed cold skin felt little. She shoved her hands back inside and pulled what robe she could over her head.

    I am lost! Lost! How can this be? Many times, I have followed these canyons on one-day rides or two-day walks. Stupid! Why did you walk? Where was your mind?

    And where was your mind when you let Night Hunter take you that night, moons ago? You were lucky a baby was not made. Did he use some kind of trick to draw me to him? Why did he take me knowing I was not yet a woman? Why did I allow him to dishonor me? Teardrops froze in little balls on her cold face. No other man will want me now.

    Three moons ago, she heard his flute music as it floated past her lodge, soft on the cold night air. Her mother had told her every woman knew the sound of her future man’s voice in the music. Not knowing who called, she followed the sound. Quiet footsteps led her to him. She could not see who it was, but went to him even though she should not have until her ceremony had passed. Hypnotized by the beautiful sound, she faced Night Hunter unafraid. The flute stopped, then their eyes met and he lowered her to the ground. It was wrong, very wrong. Even the cold and snow-covered ground did not stop her from lying with him, encased in the warm humpback robe.

    Another blast of cold brought her back, reminding her she had yet to find safety, and that she did not have the warmth of another person. She started to drift in her mind, thoughts jumbled. Her body shivered uncontrollably, and her feet ached from the freezing water that had found its way through the sinew used to make her footwear. She rounded another curve in the canyon. Orange-red colors plastered in icy-white greeted her. Her eyes combed for caves, indents in the stone, even a curve that would get her out of the wind.

    Nothing! There is no shelter anywhere!

    She arched her neck toward the now nearly invisible clouds and cried out. "Creator, help me please. I am young and afraid. I am not brave. I fear loosing my life in such a way. Who would sing my Soul to the campfires in the sky? I would be lost in-between this land and the Spirit’s land. Please, Great Mystery, help me to help myself. I know I am weak. I am sorry. I wish I was braver."

    She pushed away her snow-covered hair that escaped from the robe, but it whipped around, slapping her face. Stupid! I smelled snow! Why did I not take my winter footwear? Her ceremonial footwear soaked up even more of the icy water. She’d hurried, and the air was warm when she’d left. Still, even after her parents had taught her about sudden cold, she had not listened. She had acted as a child, and now must pay for her haste. Would a woman act this way?

    Cold and exposure started to claim her. Numb feet no longer ached. She could no longer feel the tips of her fingers. Sleepy.... If I could just rest.

    Thunder rolled and lightning sparked in pink above her. Thunder snow. The old ones said it meant Nature herself was confused, and the cold season was always much worse. At every turn, she found only white ice that clung to jutting edges of stone—no shelter anywhere. She pushed on, head bent against the blasts of cold pelting her face. Ice concealed the uneven ground, and the tip of a hidden stone tripped her. Frozen ground rose up to meet her. She lost her grip on the robes, and gasped when the icy water splashed up her dress. With numb hands, she pushed herself into a sitting position, and laughed.

    I finally feel warm. Am I seeing the last place of my life? I should have stayed and accepted Night Hunter’s offer. He was not so bad to look at when he did not wrinkle his face in anger. He did smile at me the first time we saw each other. I did not see anger then.

    Instead, I lay here freezing. So sleepy.... If I could rest but for a short span.

    No!

    She reached out for the pack her mother had given her, hoping she had missed extra clothing. She clung to the rocky face of the canyon wall, pulled herself up and reached her arm behind herself to pull the pack off her back. The canyon’s snow crusted wall gave in and some hand-like thing pulled her through.

    Her own hands touched fur, and she screamed.

    Falling Rainbow fell on musty robes and backed away in terror. Tiny eyes scurried past her. The only sound that met her ears did not sound like her own breathing. She held her breath.

    It could not belong to her! It had to be a monstrous creature.

    She scrambled away until her back hit the cold, hard wall of the cave, and awaited her fate. She would not—could not—go back out into the cold, blinding snow. Bright sparks drew her attention as a small fire lit up the cave.

    Who has come to visit me? An elder man stepped into the light cast by a fire. "Do you know it is the wrong time for visiting? This cold season has brought much snow, and now Nature forgets the time of snow has past. Pull a robe over you, silly child—after you get out of your footwear. They soak my robes. Your lips are blue. Get out of all your clothing so you can get warm. Well, do not act like an animal caught in Bear’s cave. I do not wish my robes to be soaked. And you, girl, the bad Spirits will find you, make you sick if you do not listen to me."

    Her eyes widened at the sight of the elder. Relief mixed with fear made bile climb up into her throat. He appeared harmless, far more concerned for her.

    His eyes... they look as one does when they are not connected to this side.

    She stared, her mouth agape. She pulled off her footwear, dragged a dry robe up to her chattering chin, and stared at the elder before her. He had his head turned and talked to someone she could not see. She squinted to see a tiny mouse on his shoulder. The mouse took a piece of food from him, and ran off to eat it somewhere in the darker part of the cave.

    We help each other. The man spoke without looking up. They eat my dried foods and keep me company. Those who are soon to pass to their campfires in the sky—I ease their burden with a fast end.

    He smiled warmly at her, most of his teeth gone. Come closer to the fire, child. Please get out of those clothes. No harm will come your way. I heard you outside, crying out, and I knew you needed help, so I pulled you in.

    She finally found some words. They go to the campfires in the sky? I thought only humans went there.

    Well, where then, did you think all other beings go? Into nothing? He cackled, leaned back and stretched. The little fire had grown large enough to warm the cave. The Great Mystery creates all creatures. Why would only humans be chosen to live in the sky and make campfires at night? Do you not have storytellers in your band who teach you the stories?

    Confused, squinted eyes stared back at her from a mass of tangled hair filled with stardust. It fell past old, thin shoulders that showed through the holes in his worn tunic. Do not be shy. Get out of those wet clothes and toss your own robes before you ruin my robe!

    She glanced around for something dry. A stack of carefully folded clothing lay within her reach. In the dim light she saw fur-lined footwear, a long tunic and leggings, and reached for the tunic—fur-lined both outside and inside. Carefully stitched strips of black, browns and whites created the colorful and warm looking piece of clothing. She glanced up to see if he watched her.

    Oh my, do not look at me so. I will look away. He grinned and turned his head.

    She kept her eyes on him while she questioned him. Who are you? Why are you in this cave? Where did—

    The elder held up his hands while still facing away from her, and chuckled as he spoke. You ask questions, but do not wait for the answer before you ask another. Slow down, girl. I am called One Who Wanders, or Wanderer, by my friends.

    I am dressed. Please turn around... and thank you for helping me. I know I was about to fall into the sleep that takes away life. I... wait. You have friends? What kind of friends would allow an elder to live alone in a cave? She fingered the furred leather on the warm, dry boots.

    The elder stared at her, sadness reflecting from his eyes and tightened brows. They are all gone. Went to the stars long ago. I stayed behind. He tossed her a comb carved from bone.

    Stayed behind? You speak as... as. She did not want to be rude and call him addled. Why did you stay alone in the canyons? She caught small handfuls of hair and tried to pull the comb through, but gave up and placed it beside her.

    One Who Wanders grinned and exposed what few teeth remained. For you, of course. You came just in time. He handed her a carved, wooden bowl. Firelight reflected on the small animals painted on the sides. Two wolves faced each other and a mustang stood by a small human figure. Eat, and do not wonder what you eat. We all return to the same source. This keeps the Circle whole.

    Her belly protested too much to worry if she ate dried meat, or fish or.... She raised the bowl, smelled the hot food, but stopped and said a silent prayer to the Spirits. She then raised the warm liquid to her cold lips with hands that still shook. "My hands hurt some. I am sorry if I spill the... food on your nice robe.

    He nodded her way. Good, good, I see you are respectful. Someone has taught you something, at least. And I see your lips are no longer blue. Good thing I found this cave a full cycle of seasons ago. It gave me time to fill it with food.

    Another mouse climbed up his shoulder, and he stopped talking to feed him. He looked up again and continued to speak with the same kind voice. I had to bury it so my little friends did not eat it all. I found thin robes in here, too, carefully stitched with sinew around the edges. They worked well for wrapping food. The other robes with the humpback’s hair on them were a bit worn, but I mended them. I could tell they had been here for some time, neatly stacked and waiting for me to find them. Whoever put these robes here took great care in tanning them. I am grateful that these huge animals roam the grasslands.

    One Who Wanders—

    Oh, call me Wanderer like my friends. He leaned over and offered to fill her bowl again. Good thing I made extra. I see you are very hungry.

    She looked up from her bowl and into eyes that stared right through her. They had a soft blue glow. He wore a worn, quilled yellow and white headband that reminded her of the zigzags on the canyon baskets that a trader brought occasionally. Her father had actually traded a good robe for one.

    She guessed Wanderer had seen around fifty-five winters, maybe more. "Where are your friends?

    What friends? He reached for another bowl and dipped it in into the warm food, then leaned back and blew on it. Good this time! Much better with the dried root plants added in. I saved them for when you would come. My friends would have enjoyed this.

    She squeezed her eyebrows together and smacked her head. "Your friends who call you Wanderer. Where are they?" She tried to show only respect for the elder, but he made her mind crazy.

    He jabbed a finger above his head. There. Not to worry, little one, I will do you no harm. I had two wonderful women in my lifetime and do not want for another... even if you are a pretty one. He cocked his head her way as a mouse scurried over the robe she sat under. Do not mind them. They, too, mean you no harm. He pointed to her hair. My, your hair is long and thick, a bit tangled up. Your round face gives you Doe’s eyes. I must admit I find your long nose and wide lips beautiful. And your square jaw, where did you get that from?

    She reached up and felt her jaw. I... I was born with it. Is it ugly?

    He laughed loud enough to send mice racing for cover. You are too pretty to have an ugly chin! Even your voice has a soft sound. I know you must sing as beautiful as birds do when they seek a mate. You must be... what... thirteen winters old? I can see many men will want you. Your beauty comes through well. I find you very good to look at.

    "I am fourteen winters and a woman! Can you not see that?’

    He slapped his robe with his hand and grinned. Oh, yes, I see that now. Only a woman’s voice would speak so loud as yours. And... so sweetly. He cleared his throat.

    He jerked upright, stiffened and grabbed for her. She squealed as he reached over and put a hand across her mouth to silence her. Shhh! Do you hear that? Cover your head and let your air out quietly. I hear crunching on top of the snow.

    She spoke through her muffled mouth. Could they be your friends?

    Remember, my friends do not live in this world anymore. Shhh... voices! He let go of her, covered her with a robe and tossed dirt to strangle the fire. Smoke started to rise and he tossed a robe over it.

    ***

    Night Hunter, why does this... this girl interest you so? I have seen many beautiful women in this band and our own. Why not choose an older one with enough sense not to runaway in a snowstorm! Mustang hooves stomped in the snow as the men jumped off them.

    The sound was loud enough for Falling Rainbow to hear inside the cave.

    Brother, listen well to me. She holds Power that belongs to a man. If I take her as my woman, I will also claim her Power as mine. That old father of hers thinks too highly of her. After all, she has much growing yet to do in mind and body. I will take her back to our band and say her father, as a special gift, gave me her Power. I will then gain the favor of the hairy-faces who came to live with us.

    She tried to peek out, but an old hand pulled her back.

    They think we are as dead blades of grass, to be walked on. I will show them it is they who are to be walked on!

    Are you sure Falling Rainbow came this way? I see no tracks, nothing to show she—

    Brother, if there were any tracks, the snow that slaps at our backs would have covered them. He huffed and jumped on his mustang. Stupid girl. I tire of searching for her! We will return and wait for her. She has no place to go but back to her parents’ lodge. She might be there already, and here we are, riding in wet, freezing....

    Sounds of mustangs moving made her dig deep in the fur. She found it hard to breathe slowly. Her hands clutched each other and she bit at her knuckles. She was sure they heard her pounding heart.

    We go back and see if she has returned. If not, we wait. If she hides in someone’s lodge, her own body’s needs will force her out.

    Good, I saw two women whose faces were full of smiles when I mentioned to an elder woman that I had no mate. My night may not be as boring as yours.

    ***

    Wanderer acted as if no one had nearly found the cave they sat in. Falling Rainbow? Now, I simply do not understand that name. He tossed the robe off the dirt, scooped it away and restarted the small fire. Another mouse ran up and took an offered nibble of food from his hand. How does a rainbow fall? Please tell me how your name came to be.

    Dim light in the room came alive as he added sticks to the waking fire. He snuggled in his robe much like a child awaiting a good story.

    She cocked her head toward the cave entrance, which was once again hidden by snow. I... do you not worry? What if those two decided to come back? And what Power? I have no power. So his smile at me when he called with his flute was not real.

    The bowl that she picked back up leaned sideways in her hands, as a mouse dared to put a tiny paw on the bowl’s ledge.

    Ahh! What are you doing? She jerked backward and sent the bowl flying. It thudded in the back of the cave and made a wobbling sound. She shrieked and quickly put her hand over her mouth, and glanced back and forth. Do you think anyone heard?

    He tossed his head back and laughed. I would say every mouse in here did!

    No, humans. Do you think Night Hunter and his brother heard?

    Night Hunter? Well, if he had, he would be here by now. No, child, he did not hear. You are safe. The night is very dark. The Mother we walk upon must have a tired daughter. She has chosen to sleep this night. Gather your things, Falling Rainbow, and I will gather mine. We must be ready as soon as Father Sun wakes.

    Falling Rainbow sat stiffly, open-mouthed. What... where... I am not going home! Night Hunter waits for me!

    Of course not, child. It is time for us to move on. I will show you the paintings. When we reach them it will be time to rest for the night.

    How did you know I have been looking for paintings? I did not tell you.

    No, you did not, did you?

    Then how did you know I looked for the paintings?

    Curl up and sleep, girl. The fire will soon go out and we will loose its warmth. I wish to be asleep before then. He turned on his side and scooted down into the robes.

    Without a word, she slipped into the robe, grateful to be safe and warm. Sleep overtook her exhausted body.

    Push! The baby is not going to come out with you just squatting, girl. I know the time has been long, but you are nearly there, Bright Sun Flower said.

    Animal Speaks Woman tried to be helpful as her man’s grandmother wiped her sweaty brow. She no longer wanted to be a mother... but she did—her emotions, befuddled. Two days of pain had weakened her body and mind. From somewhere inside the lodge, a young girl who knew nothing of birthing pain yelled, Push! She can say push all she wants, but she does not have to squeeze her own insides out!

    Her mother kept telling her how she would forget all the pain once her new baby rested at her breast. Ha! That is what every woman who comes to see me says. Even Running River, with enough children to start her own band, had come earlier, smiling and offering words of comfort. Comfort! The woman’s last child slid out so fast she had no time to reach the birthing lodge.

    She spoke through the sweat streaming across her lips. Mother, can you not see the head? Your hands are small! Reach inside and guide my baby out. How can such a tiny baby be so hard to get out? I will never do this again. Never!

    Morning Star rubbed her back. Slow your breath down. You panic. Do you want your baby to be afraid all her life? The calmer you are, the more peaceful your baby’s life will be. See how your little sister sleeps? I stayed calm and—

    Mother, she is not giving birth, I am! Of course she sleeps in peace! She put the leather back between her teeth, bit down and grunted.

    Daughter, first babies can be this way. She reached down and felt for any signs of the baby’s head. Lie back for a bit and allow me to rub your legs, and Bright Sun Flower will rub your shoulders. You feel tight. Makes Baskets needs to nurse her son, but she will return to help sing to your daughter, to let her know she is welcome.

    She listened to songs her mother and Bright Sun Flower sang to the unborn baby, telling her how good life would be, what a happy place she was about to enter. They reminded her of the songs she and Shining Light had sung to their unborn daughter, preparing her for life outside her belly. Some of the songs were to teach the girl things she would need to know about life.

    She groaned as her belly tightened again.

    ***

    Shining Light sat sulking while several women came and left—throughout the night and past Father Sun’s rising.

    Flying Raven Who Dreams tried to comfort him. Most women do not want us men bothering them while they are in the birthing lodge, Son, which is why we are farther away than you want to be. You cannot change how they feel. This is the women’s business, not ours. It has always been this way, which is why your mother waved us away just now. They do not want us here. Birthing has always been a private thing. I was only able to help your mother give us our daughter because we were all alone.

    Father, I no longer care! He thrust out his arm in agitation. Look at how tight the lodge is closed. Why must the lodge sides be down? Do they fear bad Spirits or us seeing inside? He scooted away from his father and stood. I am going behind it to open a small spot. She needs clean, cool air. The air outside has the blessing of Sister Wind. They barely gave the flap time to close before tying it shut.

    Before his father could grab his tunic, he slipped away.

    Shining Light, let the women be. We are not even meant to be this close! Soon Father Sun will rest and the night air will cool.

    He ignored his father and, silent as a mouse, crept on his knees behind the lodge. He lifted the bottom and placed a short, fat log under the flap—high enough to allow a cool breeze inside. He met up with White Paws’ wet nose. The wolf had hid inside the lodge by the back edge.

    Animal Speaks Woman clutched the fur on his back with one hand. She moved her head up to see Shining Light, and smiled. She mouthed the words, "Soon... soon." Another spasm hit her hard enough that she bolted upright.

    White Paws tried to lick her arm, but Shining Light pulled him back while her hand still gripped his fur. He whispered to the wolf. "How is it that you get to be inside and I do not?"

    He leaned on his knees toward the wolf’s face. "Even though I am a Holy Man, they will only allow me in if they need my help. Grandmother is there as birthing woman and Holy Woman. Should you even be here? What about your four pups? I know your mate takes them on small hunts... and... you should be there, with your babies, not mine!"

    White Paws, his fur a darker grey now than when he was a pup, cocked his head and let his tongue flop out to one side.

    I am happy that human women only give birth to one! I have heard of women having a second one, but hope that never happens to us. I would not allow anyone to think my second child was a bad omen! Women are funny creatures.

    A loud grunt from within the lodge sent the young man and wolf scurrying from the back of the lodge. White Paws left behind a handful of his fur. Before they could run to the safety of nearby trees, a shadow towered above them.

    So, Grandson, do you wish to be a birthing woman? Bright Sun Flower’s familiar squished fruit-face glared down at the pair. Her wrinkles no longer raced across her face, but her scowl could still make people stop in place.

    Grandmother, I... um... was pulling White Paws away. Now I too go away. Perhaps a walk will comfort me. He stood up and dusted off his leggings and tunic. He turned to leave, but looked into his grandmother’s softening face and stopped.

    You act as my grandson—my little Feather Floating In Water—rather than Shining Light. I see the boy in the way you act, even if your body and face are of a man. I see the muscles on your body but still see Feather in your expressions. And your silliness!

    The years of age had melted away from her when they entered the Sacred place of Tall Trees. Her eyes still held a soft blue glow.

    Power. Her power has grown even more here. She no longer has pains in her knees either.

    Shining Light, I know you worry, but this is the nature of things. Your woman is fine. Your baby will come when she is ready. Bright Sun Flower smiled and placed a basket in his hand. "Go gather swamp plant fluff. There is plenty still clinging to the tops of last season’s plants. Your new baby will need it to keep her bottom

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