​Lisle searched the trees from her seat astride Ell’s shoulders with frantic eyes, desperate to locate the rain-shrouded figure whose terrifying laughter echoed around her. She took a deep breath of waterlogged air, and reloaded her stone shot. Shaking, wet hands made the task difficult, as the small stones slipped about in her fingers. Rain dripped into her eyes, and she hastily wiped it away with her upper arm.

Lisle jumped nervously, as Terris popped his head up beside her, using Ell’s tail to lever himself up. Water ran over his scalp and down the sides of his face. She saw his dripping, clenched fist shaking at the trees in the direction Ell was staring, scattering droplets of wet about them both.

“Come out an’ fight us ya beast, and stop yer cursed cacklin’.”

She turned to see Gareth recover quickly from where Ell’s protective sweep had thrown him. He knelt, knocking arrow to bow once again, carefully out of range of Ell’s neck. Veiled in the downpour, he looked ghostly and insubstantial. Lisle shivered at the thought, and fearfully made the warding sign down at her side, thumb to forefinger.

She had no idea where Moss was.

Ell took in a deep breath and extended her neck, jaws wide. Lisle felt the vibration through Ell’s shoulders and chest beneath her as she roared again. It was deep and bellowing, resonant with challenge.

The laughter from the woods cut off.

Misty, white vapor rose from Ell’s neck, even as the rain poured down. Lisle held her stone shot in one hand, and placed the other on Ell’s neck which was blushing a reddish hue. She felt the hard scales beneath her fingers radiating heat, then became aware of a burning sensation, rising through her thighs and backside from where she sat on Ell’s shoulders.

Her seat was growing rapidly hotter now, so much so that she could barely tolerate it. She had to keep lifting one leg and then the other, holding onto Ell’s spinal ridges and shifting her weight. This is no good, she thought as she fidgeted, I need to be able to shoot.

The spines on Ell’s head, stood erect and bright red, a flush of crimson color extending down her neck and onto her shoulders. She opened her jaws and let out another deep roar, which ended suddenly with a huge gout of flame spurting out. It seared the air, a brief, golden light reflecting off the trees before them.

Ell’s head reared backward, almost knocking Lisle off, as she clamped her jaws shut on the flame, cutting it off with a gulping sound.

Lisle could only stare at Ell in amazement. She watched smoke drifting up from between Ell’s clenched teeth.

“Did ya’ see that? She’s a flamin’! Ya’ best get down from there, younger.”

Terris reached up to pull Lisle backwards, sliding her off behind the protection of Ell’s extended wing and jumping down beside her. Lisle landed on her feet, grateful to be off Ell’s burning shoulders.

An arrow pounded through the branches well above them, thudding through the leaves. The tattered remains chasing the rain down and scattering over Gareth.

“You’ll have to do better than that! One curse you!” Voice rough with anger, Gareth knelt with one-knee on the ground. Rain streamed over his hood and down his back as he drew his bow and aimed in the same direction that Ell had flamed.

A rumbling belch bubbled up through Ell’s throat and out her jaws. She shook her head, long neck waggling back and forth as if uncomfortable. The scent of Ell’s fiery breath drifted back to Lisle, smelling almost like that of the eggs from their layers back home.

Lisle pushed past Terris and out to the edge of Ell’s wing, aiming her stoneshot at the trees once again. She searched for shadowy movement. This time, she would make her shot count.

*****
The Hunter’s laughter ended as abruptly as it had begun. He moved closer, the pounding rain covering his approach. He stood behind a tree, rain pouring down around him, a grey shadow in a  grey wood. He watched the Guardian, an arrow knocked in the deadly, long bow that was his hunting weapon of choice. Drawing the bow, sinewy, powerful arms straining, he took aim for the delicate patch under its forearm with practiced skill.

It roared yet again, loud and challenging, and he felt a startling kinship with this supreme hunter. He marveled at the blade-like teeth bared in defiance; the claws ripping at the earth beneath it; the sheer massive power of it. He stood in awe before this marvelous beast. He could feel its rage with every bellow, and that intense anger moved something deep within him.

It unexpectedly let loose with a gout of flame, burning white-hot through the watery, grey air right at him, and he took a startled step backward. His nostrils filled with a warm, moist scent like that of the bubbling pits he’d encountered in the far North. Then his foot slipped in the mud beneath him and his arrow shot high and wide.

Steadying himself, he again took aim, even as his mind questioned. What is this creature of fire and air? He had never seen it’s like.

It fascinated him, and, it confused him. He tried to sort it out.  Arms trembling with the strain of holding the draw on his hunting bow, he carefully released the pull on the arrow and dropped the bow down to his side.  Emotions roiled inside him. Strange, new feelings of admiration and longing raged in his chest. The cursed beast inspired something in him. Something even more than kinship; it was like a soul-deep recognition.

He shook his head, snarling, disgusted with such flights of fancy.

Then, an unobtrusive voice in the back of his mind, so small as to easily go unnoticed, it asked, do I really want to kill this amazing creature? 
​
This strange inner conflict was suddenly too much. Even as the kneeling man beside the Guardian taunted him, the Hunter melted back into the trees. 

The rain lightened momentarily. Lisle lifted her head and pushed back a thoroughly soaked hood to rest dripping about her neck.  I don’t know why I even bother to wear it, it’s so wet. She looked to see misty, open air on the other side of the trees to her left. Moving ever North, the companions slogged along, traversing the side of a steep incline, as they pushed closer to Guardian Mountain.

The storm raged on. The group were pummeled with an almost constant downpour. Water streamed away down the incline to their right, rivulets of runoff crossing in front and behind them, rushing to merge into the river far below. The ground was soggy underfoot, mud sucking at their boots. Occasional slides of stones and pebbles made the footing treacherous.

Lisle breathed deeply of the wet air filling the woods. The clean, damp scent would have been pleasant if she had not had so much of it recently. What’s more she was feeling increasingly agitated. She was sure they were being watched, and kept looking around, checking their backtrail every few minutes. Her hand, damp and white-knuckled, gripped the handle of the stoneshot at her belt.

The constant beat of rain pouring down around her was split by a tremendous roar from above that vibrated through Lisle's body. Jumping, she looked up with startled eyes to see Ell arrowing down between the trees. She was terrified that Ell was injured, as Ell landed almost on top of the companions, wings outstretched.

Roaring still, Ell backed into the four of them, herding them behind her, up against the huge trunk of an ancient tree, as she released another stentorian scream of rage at the mist-veiled tree trunks surrounding them.

Frightened still, but relieved, Lisle could feel that Ell was not injured. Ell was terrified and very, very angry.

“Let me see, Ell!”

Yanking her slingshot from her belt, and clamping it between her teeth, Lisle pushed her way free of the green, scaled haunch that held her against the rough, dripping bark of the huge tree. She leapt, grabbing onto a spinal ridge on Ell’s back, and scrambled up to her shoulders, like climbing a ladder.

The sky opened up, rain driving down. Lisle wiped the rain from her eyes and looked to see a dark, man-shaped shadow scuttling from tree to tree, moving ever closer.  

Moss, chattering angrily from inside Lisle’s overtunic, pushed her way out and took to the air, only to be grounded immediately by the driving force of the rain.  She landed at the base of the great tree and pulled herself up the trunk, climbing the shaggy, wet bark upward. Her hair was immediately slicked against her head by the rain in long, green waves streaming down over her shoulders.

“One curse it, Ell! Let me by!” Gareth struggled his way past the wing that pinned him against the tree trunk.

Another scream of defiance from Ell momentarily deafened Lisle as she stared out frantically from under eyelashes dripping with rain, looking for anything that presented a target for her stoneshot.

“Keep yur cussed head down younger!” Terris yelled up at her, wrestling with the enormous tail that held him. “Let go a me ya’ great lizard!”

Gareth pushed by Ell’s wing, knocking an arrow in his bow as he did so. He moved to stand in front of the raging Guardian. Ell roared deafeningly and knocked him aside and behind her with a sweep of her long neck.

Lisle felt rage, frustration and terror filling her up like an overfull water bladder. She had to let it out before it consumed her and opened her mouth to loose her own high, scream of defiance as she flung a stone uselessly into the trees.

From the woods before them, amidst the clattering of rain on the water-soaked ground, a howl of laughter echoed.

*****

Behind a tree, the Hunter bent over, hands on his knees, choking with laughter. Rain poured down around him, drenching his already soaked overcoat and splattering another layer of mud over his hide boots.  It didn’t matter if they heard him. They already knew he was there, and he was delighted by the inept tableau in front of him.

He guffawed as he thought of the Guardian herding and pinning its humans behind it, and those incompetent men fighting against the Guardian, uselessly trying to defend it.

 He laughed so hard he could barely catch his breath.

Then he thought of that younger, sounding like some crazed night singer, wildly flinging a stone at him. It was all just too much, and he howled with laughter again, hardly able to stand up.

That Guardian though, it gave him pause. He sobered and stood up straight, tilting his head and looking out from behind the tree trunk which hid him. Rain dripped from the brim of the hat which protected his eyes as he watched the roaring beast before him. He felt an emotion so foreign to him it was almost frightening. He couldn’t put a name to it.

The huge green-scaled creature was rippling with muscle. It stood upright on powerful hindquarters, long, curved claws gouging huge tracts in the muddy earth. With its wings spread wide, and open, sharp-toothed jaws it looked like some enormous avenging demon.

It seemed a creature not of this world, the likes of which he had never come across before. It was all that he had hoped, and so much more. The beast inspired him, a totally new and unfamiliar sensation.

Suddenly he wanted it, more than he had ever wanted anything in his life.  That Guardian is mine!

He studied the beast. It was covered all over with scales. Even the belly was lined with yellow protective plating.  The Guardian roared again and flapped its wings, its forearms flailing. His attention was drawn to the area just under its forearms. He wiped away the rain which had blown into his eyes and looked to see that under the forearms was covered with small, delicate looking scales. A well-placed arrow there will bring it down, he thought. Then I can deal with the humans.

The Hunter searched the area about him, and pin-pointed a tree which would give him a better vantage point for his shot. Staying low, mist shrouding his movements, he crept into place.

Several days passed and Gareth’s condition improved rapidly. Soon, he was sitting up, and able to lean carefully against the grayed trunk of a tree whose branches provided a canopy for their campsite hidden within Darkling Forest.  A few more days saw him standing and moving about tentatively.

Finally, he was well enough to travel.
​
The night before they were to leave, Gareth lay,  his head resting on a bedroll and hands clasped over his stomach. Lisle watched Gareth as he scanned the woods with haunted eyes. She sat with him beside their neat fire, holding slender hands over the coals. Despite it being full summer, the evening air was damp and chilly. Moss sat, watchful, upon Lisle’s shoulder, running tiny fingers through the verdant tangles of hair haloing her small head.

Ell lay curled, tail tip over muzzle, eyes open, reflecting the small flames of the campfire. Only Terris seemed relaxed,  fiddling about in his pack, pulling out various small bags of herbs and considering each one. Wagging his head in the negative, he’d stuff the small bag back into his pack and reach in for another one.

Haltingly, Lisle told Gareth of all that had happened after he was shot. She told him how Terris had saved the Guardian.

Terris looked up at them. He squared his shoulders. “I didn’t do nothin’ you wouldna’ done if you coulda’ Gareth.” Then he looked down quickly and fumbled with the bag he was holding.

Gareth carefully pushed himself to a sitting position. His lips twitched but he nodded solemnly to Terris.

Lisle continued on, telling Gareth how Moss had chased away Gareth’s startled assailant, quite possibly saving Gareth’s life. At this, Moss stood up on Lisle’s shoulder and puffed up her chest, wings lifting. She shook her fist at their remembered foe and loosed a string of staccato, clattering syllables.

Finally, Lisle told him how the Guardian sat with him, not eating, not moving for days, as Lisle cared for him the best she knew how. “W…which was n…not v…very g..good,” she said, looking down at hands now twisting in her lap.

“It was good enough. My gratitude to all of you,” Gareth looked at each one in turn as he said this. Then, eyes and head tilting up and to the side, he remembered, “I heard singing off and on, thought it was my Marn.” He turned to look at Lisle. “Was it you?”

“It e…eased y…you. I…I sang e…even when you w…went into th…that s…sleep. I d..didn’t k…know what else to…to d…do.”

Gareth shifted to look at her directly, grimacing slightly as his newly healed wound pulled. His eyes lighted,  “I had a dream.”

Gareth told Lisle of the lake and meeting Ell and the choice she had given him.

A pot crashed, jolting Gareth and causing Lisle to start. Together, they looked over to see Terris trying to regain his balance as he leapt over the offending pot now lying on its side on the hard-packed earth and stumbled to his knees. He looked up at them with an embarrassed grin.

Gareth pushed himself to his feet. Looking down at Terris he stepped over and offered him a hand up. Terris looked at the proffered hand with eyes wide, but accepted it and got to his feet. “Ta,” said Terris as he brushed off the legs of his trews, and set about righting the pot to make breakfast.

The next morning, they packed up and set off. Gareth walked up front, occasionally moving off into the woods, then returning to say all was clear. They didn’t travel far that day. Nor could they travel far for many days as Gareth gradually gained his strength back. Lisle took to feigning exhaustion at times to get Gareth to rest, and Terris soon caught on and contributed his own weary complaints. Gareth lost patience with them a few times, refusing to stop.

Unusually, several times each day Ell dropped down from where she flew above the sheltering canopy of the forest, back winging to come to land before them, dried leaves and dust flying up into the air about her. She would settle herself for a rest and look over at them calmly as if this was their usual routine. Always, this was just as Gareth felt exhaustion setting in, despite the desire to push himself. The companions soon learned that she would travel no further until they had all rested. 

That afternoon they settled by a brook. It was a comfortable place with the sound of the running water nearby. It was an hour or two before dark and they sat around a crackling fire, replete from a supper of ground flier, which Ell had provided, and Terris had seasoned with just the right herbs and a touch of salt.

Terris fiddled with the handle of a pot that needed mending. Then he looked up at Gareth. “It’s a strange thing I’ve jus’ remembered. That man what attacked the Guardian, he yelled, ‘For the Fallen!’ Jus’ like that. That man was terrifyin’, he was. He wanted to die.”

Gareth looked up sharply, “The Fallen? I remember something of that.” Gareth searched his memory for stories he had heard back when he was traveling with Lur. “There was a group who worshipped one called The Fallen. Anyone who serves the One is their enemy. Those that attacked us, they were after Ell. Makes sense her being a Guardian and of the One.”

Terris groaned. “Rend and tear it,” he said, shaking his head. He put the pot down and took out his knife and whetting stone, and began scraping the blade carefully against the stone. ”We’ll be ready for ‘em if they comes back.”

Gareth looked at him, eyebrows raised, his lips tiling upward. He recognized his own cuss words coming from Terris’s mouth, but said nothing. He was feeling a growing respect for the small man before him; glad now that Terris was with them.

“Yes,” said Gareth, “we will.”

Tim stood at the entrance to the cave which squatted at the base of Guardian Mountain, one tan and dirt encrusted hand grasping the rough, grey rock at the cave mouth. He leaned his head inward, straining his eyes to peer into the dark depths.

He knew it was here, though he didn't know what 'it' was.  

Tim was tired. It had been three anxious suns of walking due north through the frightening Darkling Forest. Yet anything was better than the torment of living with the scorn of his brothers and father, and his own growing hatred. The nights of his journey had been terrifying,  wakeful, hearing his name called over and over. All of it had brought him unerringly to this place.

While his body might be tired, his heart was thumping hard with excitement. He just knew this was what he was seeking; this was what had been calling him. 

Wind rushed past his back, carrying browned leaves fallen too early for the season, and brushing them on by. He didn’t notice. He was too intent on studying the tiny flashes of light which blinked at him from countless crystal points embedded into the walls and ceiling of the cave.

He heard a loud, snorting breath bellowing forth from some huge beast within and startled backward, his head rearing up. He saw it then, an outline of darkness, shadowing the crystal points of light, moving slowly toward him from the back of the cave. He heard the crunching sound of movement on rock, heavy and slow.

Terror vyed  for control of his body. His mind knew he should run yet his heart kept him rooted to the spot.

A deep green, scaled forearm stepped into the light. His eyes followed it downward as long, ivory talons curved into view, then another forearm moved up beside it, cruel talons clicking on rock. A tingling thrilled through Tim’s arms and legs, his body begging him to flee. Still he did not.

His mouth dropped open unheeded, full lips dry, as Tim’s dark lashed eyes followed the gleaming, scaled forearms back up to powerful shoulders, rippling with muscle. Shoulders which shone in the light as the enormous beast emerged from the dark shadows of the cave. Tim's riveted gaze picked out the sparkling details of each scale, looking as though they were made of purest, dark green emerald. He had never seen anything so beautiful.

His eyes traced further upward to the sinuous neck, reflecting the sunlight in an emerald green so dark as to look almost black, shading back and forth with a startling sapphire blue as the neck wove to and fro in the light. The effect was mesmerizing.

Tilting his head back to look further up, Tim saw powerful jaws and ridged, reptilian head duck under the rock overhang as the beast emerged slowly from the dark of the cave, it’s claws grating and crunching over the rock floor.

Run! Run! Run! Tim’s mind screamed at him even as he ignored the fear that coursed through his body.

A Guardian. It called me here. It wants me! Awe filled his chest on a gasping intake of breath.  He had never been so sure of anything in his life. Here was power, strength, and dominance, everything he wanted and more.

Tim fell to his knees bumping his forehead to the ground, almost touching the great, ivory claws. “I will serve you with my life, Great One, only give me  your power and strength,” his words fell to the earth followed by tears of fear, release and joy.

The huge jaws lowered deliberately to hover in the air just above Tim’s head. The breath blew out through enormous nostrils and Tim felt his hair parted and blown about. He didn’t dare to move. Perhaps the Guardian will take my life. He trembled involuntarily at the thought. It would be my honor to serve so, though he hoped the Guardian would have better use for him than that. He kept his head bowed to the ground, clenching his elbows tight to his sides trying to still the trembling that shook him.

It would seem that it did have a better use for him, because he felt the warm wind of breath quiet and the great head move away.
Tim lifted his own head from the ground and risked a glance upward. Large, round pupiled eyes the color of molten gold stared down at him from the bejeweled head, green ridges, dark as obsidian, standing high.

The Guardian slowly turned, long, graceful neck curving around, claws scratching over stone, and moved back into it’s cave. Tim knelt, watching spellbound.  The beautiful creature turned it’s head back once again to look at Tim, as if in invitation.

Tim, tear streaked face full of boyish wonder and pure delight, scrambled to his feet and followed.    
  

 Lisle stood next to Ma-Marn’s trunk in the cottage, face serious, pack on her back. Mina stood beside her. Sunlight streamed in through the window, lighting elongated squares on the worn, woven rug of indeterminate color, covering the floor.
​
“I want you to have this,” Mina said, lifting the lid of Ma-Marn’s trunk and carefully removing the fabric covered Book of One.

“Buh…buh…but…”

“No arguments. You take it. You might have need of it.”

Lisle reverently took the book and unshouldering her pack, placed the book carefully within.

“Th…th…” Lisle swiped at her eyes, as tears started to run down her cheeks.

“I know. Hush now, or you’ll have me crying like a younger.” Mina put her arms around Lisle.  “I’m going to miss you little sister.”

“Mm..mm...me t…too.” Lisle hugged her sister hard and let the tears flow.

Wiping her eyes, Mina insisted on accompanying Lisle to the Guardian’s clearing. Having already weighed down Lisle’s pack with provisions to the very limit of Lisle’s ability to carry it, Mina wanted to bring still more to Gareth.

Calming, Lisle looked at Mina’s preparations questioningly. “H…he’s a huh…huh…hunter, you know.” Lisle said, as if that explained everything. Then she stared as pink rose up in Mina’s neck and traveled up into her cheeks. Lisle rolled her eyes.

“He’ll need more than just meat, you know,” Mina replied, fussing with a piece of red fabric covering the huge basket she intended to bring, and not looking at Lisle.

“F…fine,” said Lisle, smiling at the still blushing Mina.

They started out on the long walk that would take them to the Guardian’s new location. Fortunately, it was early. Early enough that the air was warm but not too warm for an enjoyable excursion. A gentle breeze played in the top branches of the trees as the path they trod twisted through the woods.

“I can hardly believe that Jessamin and Farn gave you permission to go,” said Mina as they walked.

Lisle looked at her sister and nodded. “M…me too.”

“They must really trust the Guardian.”

Lisle nodded again, “A…a…and Guh…Guh…Gareth.”

“Yes, Gareth,” Mina smiled and sighed.

“Yuh…you a…and Guh…Gareth huh?”

Mina looked at Lisle, startled. “Well… not yet… but what would be so wrong with that?” She finished in a rush. Mina’s face turned pink again. She hefted the basket and marched ahead.

Lisle smiled and shook her head, following along in her wake.

A morning of walking brought them to the Guardian’s clearing.

Ell was trotting about, flapping her wings. Gareth was carefully packing his scant possessions. He looked up as the girls entered the clearing, his gaze immediately drawn to Mina. Smiling he put down his pack. He sauntered over to them, or tried to as he barely missed a root that stuck up from the ground in front of him. He did a fast, awkward hop over the root, arms flailing. Recovering his balance and his dignity, he approached Mina.

“Day of the One, Mina.” Then it was as if words failed him. He just looked at her, lips twitching upward.

“Day of the One, Gareth.” Mina, cheeks pink, looked up at him.

Lisle stood next to Mina, looking back and forth between them. She made a disgusted noise and walked over to greet Ell, who had stopped running about and was watching the proceedings.

Lisle hugged Ell about the neck and turned to the pair seemingly locked in place, “L…let’s g…g…go.”

Mina, as if remembering herself, blinked and shoved the large basket toward Gareth.

“I thought you might need some travel food.”

Gareth grasped the basket by the handle and then quickly put his other hand underneath to support the bottom, as the weight of the basket almost dropped from his grasp.

“Thank you, Mina.”

He looked at the basket in his hands and then at Mina. Haltingly, he said, “I’d…I’d…” Then he blurted out in a rush, “I’d like to come back and see you after I get the Guardian and Lisle safely to Guardian Mountain.”

Mina’s face lit up, blue eyes wide, staring up at him. ”I’d like that very much.”

Gareth’s whole face beamed, eyes crinkling, mouth grinning, and cheeks turning rosy.

They looked at each other for what seemed like forever to Lisle.

“Well, shine it, we’d better get going,” said Gareth.

Mina held out her hand to him and he put the basket down and took it in both of his.

“Will you wait?” He asked, his face serious now.

Mina’s stared into his eyes. “Yes.”

Gareth nodded, grinning again, released her hand and bent to lift the basket and walk back to where his pack lay on the ground. Then he stood, looking perplexed as he studied the basket and then his pack, and then the basket again.

“I’ll do that,” said Mina, and she bustled over and made quick work of stuffing his pack full.

Gareth just gazed at her, his lips curved upward, eyes soft.

Finished packing, Mina stepped over to Lisle and Ell, nodded her head respectfully to the Guardian and gave Lisle another hug.

“Stay safe, Lisle. Come back as soon as you can.”

Just then Moss buzzed into the clearing and landed upon the Guardian’s back. A tiny bag hung across her chest. She looked from Lisle, to Mina and then Gareth and nodded.

“Would you look at that,” said Gareth. “Moss is coming with us. Usually, flier folk stay close to home.” He moved closer to where she sat now upon a gleaming ruby ridge on Ell’s back.  “We are honored to have you join us, Moss.” Moss bowed her head in acknowledgment. She lifted into the air, wings whirring and looked back and forth between Gareth and Lisle.

“Ready to go?” Asked Gareth.

Moss nodded once and started off to the North, toward Guardian Mountain. Ell turned and with a running leap and a downward sweep of her wings, took to the air. Lisle started off after them, then turned to wave to Mina. Gareth gathered up his pack and smiled back at Mina. “One keep you,” he said.

“One keep you all,” said Mina, tears in her eyes as she waved her hand.

Lisle arrived back at the cottage, humming a cheerful tune under her breath. The early spring-green leaves on the trees surrounding the cottage were lit as if from within by the late afternoon sun slanting through them. She looked across the yard and noticed with dismay, that the puller, John, was there within the fence, chewing his way noisily through a pile of hay.

Farn and Jessamin are back. She thought, a sinking feeling in her gut.

She opened the door to the cottage and stepped inside. The familiar, homey scent of wood smoke surrounded her. There was Farn sitting by the hearth, a pipe in his mouth, fragrant smoke encircling his head. Long strands of greying hair were futilely plastered over his bald crown in an unsuccessful bid for youth. He looked over and nodded at Lisle as she came quietly in. “Lisle,” he said. Then looked tiredly back at the fire where he had left his thoughts.

Lisle nodded back, “F…Farn,” she answered, though he was already far away.

Mina stood at the table, hands deep in a mass of brownish dough, her thick hair wrapped in a white head scarf. She signaled to Lisle with her eyes and a flick of her head toward the back of the cottage.

Jessamin tossed back the curtain and entered the room. She looked beautiful in a deep red town dress, with long trailing sleeves and matching necklace at her throat.

Her dark eyes, flashed. “Lisle, where have you been?” She demanded.

“H…Huh…Hunting.”

“And nothing to show for it I see,” said Jessamin. “I suppose you were feeding that Guardian you supposedly found.”

Lisle’s stomach clenched. Her mind wailed. No! She remembered!

“Well, you’d better get to your chores, that shed won’t clean itself you know!”

Then Jessamin turned to Farn and stood looking at him, an annoyed expression on her face. “Jonas! A chair if you will?”

Farn sighed and stood, his wrinkled trousers and baggy jacket falling down over his rangy frame. He took a fortifying puff of his pipe and put it down on the rough wood mantle over the fire.

“I’m waiting Jonas.”

 “Yes, yes.”

Jonas, having repeated this ritual numbers of times, crossed the room, picked up a chair and her sewing basket and placed the chair beside his own at the fire.

Jessamin sat, spreading her skirt about her.

He handed her the sewing basket. She nodded at him, and took up her sewing by the light of the fire.

Lisle looked back at Mina’s sympathetic face and took a deep breath, silently sharing her misery with her sister. Then she rolled her eyes, shrugged her shoulders, and slipped quietly back out the door to do her chores.

After a tense end-day meal all crowded together at the small table, as Jessamin always insisted was proper,  Farn and Jessamin retreated to their bed.

The girls lay on their pallets in the darkened loft, the smell of woodsmoke stronger here than elsewhere in the cottage. Lisle found no solace in it's familiar comfort.

Mina whispered to Lisle. “She’s going to find the Guardian you know. She’s going to use the Guardian to build herself up with those in town. It will come to no good for you or that hatchling. What are we going to do?”

“D….duh….don’t know,” said Lisle miserably, and turned away to face the wall.

Lisle was up early the next morning, hoping to escape before the rest of the family awoke. Slinging hunting pouch over her shoulder, she climbed quietly down from the loft only to discover that Jessamin was already up and for once dressed as befitted a cottage in the woods, rather than an elegant town home. She wore a brown, thickly woven skirt with a knitted shawl covering a lighter-toned over blouse and tucked into a belt wrapped about her waist. Farn was up too, none too happy about it, and looking even more rumpled than usual.

“Day of the One, Lisle,” said Jessamin with a smile. “Hunting this morning?”

Lisle, alarmed by this unaccustomed cheerfulness, nodded cautiously.

“Well, you get along now. Farn and I have things to do.”

Lisle nodded again, ducked her head and rapidly collected leftover bread and cheese from last night’s end-day meal. Tucking it away in her pouch, she quickly left the cottage.

A rain-washed morning greeted her, the air fresh and moist, cool with the new dawn. The grass was wet under her feet, and she thought with gratitude of the dry cave Gareth had found for her Guardian. My Guardian, she thought, unfamiliar pride warming her.

She looked back over her shoulder at the cottage and her stomach clenched. There was Jessamin, face framed in the rough, wood silled window, watching her.

She’s going to follow me, thought Lisle with certainty.

She continued onto the path and as she rounded a corner, out of sight of the cottage, she stepped back behind a large tree and waited.

Shortly she spied Jessamin picking her way along the path with a disgruntled Farn in tow. Lisle was about to step out onto the path behind them when Mina appeared on the path.

“Lisle,” Mina said in a startled whisper. “You scared me!”

Lisle signaled for silence and the two of them followed Jessamin and Farn.

As they got closer to the Guardian’s clearing Lisle gestured to Mina to hurry up. She did not want Jessamin and Farn to reach the Guardian without her, though she had no idea what she was going to do if they did.

Hurrying along, they came around a curve in the path to see Gareth confronting Jessamin and Farn, bow in hand, blocking the trail.

“Turn around and go back where you came from. This place is not for you,” said Gareth.

“How dare you! Do you know who I am?” Asked Jessamin.

Jessamin glanced back at Farn hoping for support. He had his head bent forward and was attempting to smooth the long strands of hair that should have been covering his bald pate, back into place. Farn looked up then and studied the tall, strong young man, in front of him, looked at the bow in his hands, and shrugged his shoulders.

Finding no help there, Jessamin pulled herself up to her full height, almost as tall as Gareth, then brushed Gareth aside with an imperious gesture of her arm, and bulled her way through.

Gareth, a startled look on his face, hurried to catch up with her, Farn following along behind.

Lisle and Mina caught up to them and all five of them burst out of the woods into the Guardian’s clearing.

Lisle ran to the Guardian falling to her knees and putting her arms about the hatchling’s neck, as the Guardian lifted her head to look at who had arrived in her clearing, the ridges on either side of her head lifting, alert.

A tiny, green flier, flew up off the back of the hatchling and hovered in the air just above her, minute arms gesturing, making frantic shooing motions at the intruders. Gareth walked over to the Guardian and took up a wary stance to the side.

“You know these people?” 

Lisle nodded, “M…my f…f…family.”

Gareth looked grim as he stared first at Jessamin, then at Farn, and finally over at Mina.

When his eyes landed on Mina his face changed, softened for a moment. Then as if remembering what he was here for, he looked back at Jessamin and Farn and took a firmer stance, hand now on his knife sheath.

“You don’t belong here,” he stated to Farn.

Farn just looked at him and shrugged his shoulders, rolling red-rimmed eyes over at Jessamin.

Gareth turned, opened his mouth to repeat his statement to Jessamin, and shut it, his eyebrows lifted in surprise.

Jessamin was staring, open-mouthed at the Guardian.

The Guardian was looking directly at Jessamin. Jessamin, her face slack with shock, looked fixedly back for what seemed an interminable length of time to those watching.

Jessamin’s cheeks went pale, her eyes wide. Then slowly, slowly, she crumpled to her knees, a towering tree brought down by the relentless chopping of the axe.  Covering her face with her hands, she took in a deep, ragged breath and huge sobs racked her body.

Standing on either side of her, Farn and Mina watched Jessamin, dumbfounded. No one moved, except for the green flier who settled once again to the hatchling’s back, seemingly content with the proceedings.

The only sound to be heard was that of Jessamin’s keening sobs, as she rocked on her knees, grabbing at her chest like her heart was ripping open.

The Guardian focused on her steadily.

Finally, Jessamin wound down, exhausted. A lone, spring singer could be heard now, chirping in the branches at the side of the clearing. The sun shone down through the cool, morning mist, illuminating where Jessamin sat upon the ground, staring at the damp earth around her, unseeing.

Farn moved closer and touched her shoulder with a tentative hand. She looked up at him, an unaccustomed expression of vulnerability written on her reddened and tear-streaked face. Her lips curved in the suggestion of a smile and she reached her hand upward toward him in mute request for support. Farn took her hand and gently helped her to her feet.

Putting his arm around her and pulling her close to his side, she leaned her head down on his broad, wrinkled shoulder, and they turned and slowly left the clearing, following the path back to the cottage.

Lisle watched Jessamin and Farn leaving, feeling wonderment and a relief she was almost afraid to allow. Then she looked up at Gareth, still standing beside the Guardian. Gareth was gazing at Mina, a soft smile on his lips. Mina, nut brown tendrils escaping her white head scarf, was staring at the Guardian.
 
 © Holly Hildreth 2019

Fal, known to those unlucky few as, the Fallen, rested easily on the rocky ledge in his cave hidden deep within the foothills of Guardian Mountain. His crystalline cave was a small version of Gran Bryl’s own. He had chosen it for this reason, to focus him upon his goal.

His long neck arched gracefully, shining emerald and sapphire as he moved in the fingers of sun stretching into the cave, and relaxed his powerful jaws on his chest.
 
He had just eaten, a fine, grass-fattened cud-chewer, he hunted that morning.

The foolish beast ran, he thought, as if it had a chance. It did not willingly give itself as is my due. He had enjoyed the chase though, prolonging it a bit. After all that was really the point wasn’t it?

It wasn’t as if he needed to consume meat. Though he was still young, the crystal frequency, even at the base of Guardian Mountain, was enough to sustain him. Still, he did enjoy a good chase, and the kill.

He wrapped his elegant, gleamingly scaled tail around massive foreclaws, licked clean of any sign of his morning’s entertainment. Then he settled himself upright on haunches, such a deep green they were almost black.

Closing golden, round pupiled eyes he sank deep into the blackness behind his eyelids, searching. He wouldn’t be here long. The voices were too strong here.

Opening his mental eyes, he noted that he no longer saw the accursed light of the web. That One-blasted Unity, he thought. He had left that behind when he chose to pursue his own plans. His thoughts scattered back to well-worn pathways.  I will never bind myself to the web of the One like those weakling Guardians. I will never undergo the Ritual of the One, nor will my Contracted. I will create my own Ritual of Power when I am Elder!

And the voices began.

By what right does Gran Bryl continue to be Eldress? She wastes her power. You have the blood! You are of the Chosen! But we forget, you are only a pathetic worm, a cowardly lizard. There is no power in you, only weakness. We waste our time.

Anger surged through him. Great claws ripped at the rocky ground beneath him. The grating of claw on stone jolted him to full wakefulness.

I will be Elder, he promised, and this world will know my power!

The Fallen vented his anger with a series of loud, grating roars, head thrown back, teeth bared, black-edged wings lifting, mantling. The flapping lifted him backwards, out of the sunlight, back into the thick darkness in the depth of his cave.

The power of the display was most satisfying.

He settled himself once more, shaking out his wings and folding them to his sides, and willed himself back down into the inky depths to find the one he sought.

He allowed himself to sink deeper and deeper into the void. Pathetic worm. Cowardly lizard. He ignored the voices.

A slash of brilliant light to his left momentarily blinded him. He knew this was Guardian Mountain, and that accursed Gran Eldress, and turned his attention quickly away from it.

Other lights sparkled in the darkness. He bypassed them, floating onward until he was distracted by one particular, small light. A light he had been keeping track of for several changes now. The light was turning a satisfactory shade of grey, muddy at the edges, but still a clear aqua toward the center. This small one will be of use to me, he thought with satisfaction.

We’ll meet soon boy, he promised.

Again, the voices. No power, only weakness, weakness… He shrugged them off, and cast his mind’s eye out looking further.

Finally, drifting further into the darkness, he found that which he sought, a cobalt-blue blaze of light. Ah, the Guardian, Ell. She awakens to her Self, but she is a mere hatchling. My Wufn, will have her by the time she grows to her second skin.

He felt that familiar sense of possessiveness and delicious control that came to him whenever he thought of his Contracted now. Not like it used to be, he thought, back when I was a weak hatchling, so dependent upon his unthinking cruelty.

The anger that thought engendered brought him fully alert. He never lasted long in the void, too many distracting thoughts. Too many feelings. And then there were the voices. The voices that whispered to him constantly, but especially here in this dark place.

Enough! He thought and returned to more satisfying musings. Wufn taught me well, but now he is the learner. Now he knows what fear is. He felt the spines raising along the ridges at the crest of his head, his wings lifting and spreading as the desire for power filled him.

I will have Ell. I will have the control! There will be no coming together into some One blasted Unity, he thought with satisfaction. All will know the strength of my will, my power!

The Fallen roared with the intensity of emotion and gave his wings a flapping surge of strength, hind claws squeezing, crushing the rubble beneath him.

​Then, pleased with himself, he relaxed and mind-thought, Wufn, I have need of you.

Lisle stepped into the clearing, long, brown braid swinging down her back, holding a burrower by the hind legs. She smiled to see the Guardian, lying in the warm sun on the rock where she'd left her.  Shimmers of light danced about the hatchling. The flier folk are busy today, Lisle thought with amusement.

The Guardian was looking intently at the other side of the clearing. Lisle turned to see what she was looking at and saw two men standing, side by side. The wind came up then as if aimed, blowing through the leaves about the men, casting pale undersides upward, and lifting the dark hair of the tallest man away from his face. Lisle saw a scruffy, earth-toned beard dangling from his chin, and a bow held down by the side of his much worn and stained leggings. His head was cocked to the side as he studied the Guardian, a frown line between graphite dark eyebrows, and uncertainty written on his face. The other man, shorter, stockier, held a crossbow aimed directly at the Guardian, clear intent in his small, puffy eyes.

“Noooo…!” screamed Lisle.

She dropped the burrower and launched herself at the Guardian.

The tall man reached to knock his companion’s crossbow upward just as he released the bolt. It shot harmlessly into the air.
”What’d you do that for!” Demanded the shorter man, turning angrily, his brow beetling over squinting eyes.

“It’s no lizard for our dinner, it’s a Guardian, you fool. Can’t you see?” Said the tall man gesturing at the hatchling and not taking his eyes off her. He fell to his knees, unheeding of the dried twigs crackling beneath them, and dragged his companion down beside him. 

Lisle landed on top of the Guardian. Her speed knocking the Guardian over backward and forcing a growled "Umph," from the hatchling.  Lisle scrambled up and off her, patting and touching the Guardian all over.

“Are you unhurt? Are you safe?”

The Guardian righted herself on her sunning rock, pushing up onto her haunches, shaking out limp wings and wrapping her tail about her.  A rumbling purr sounded from her chest, as she glanced at Lisle. Then she lifted her head, haloed now as chittering flyer folk descended to surround her and stared the men.

Lisle leapt to her feet, pulled her sling from her belt, and ran at the kneeling men. She stopped just in front of them, trembling all over.

“What’s the matter with you? That’s a Guardian! A Guardian! Do you realize what you almost did? Would you have shot her? Are you crazy?”

The words poured out of her. She kicked at the man still holding the crossbow, who scrambled up and away from her, eyeing her like she was some avenging angel. She turned to kick at the other, who was getting to his feet and putting his hands in prayer position in front of his chest, staring at the Guardian a short distance away.

In a clear, carrying voice he addressed the Guardian directly. “We didn’t know. We were hungry. You looked like a big lizard…” He grimaced. “Forgive me. I mean we didn’t recognize you. Guardians are big and green and live in Guardian Mountain. How could we know you were here?” He fell back to his knees.

Refraining from kicking him, Lisle said, “Go on get out of here you st…stupid men.” She kept her eyes on them as she went to sit near the Guardian, putting her arm around her protectively. The Guardian was staring now at the man who had spoken. Lisle felt the deep rumble in the hatchling’s chest. How could she be purring? She questioned, incredulous. They just tried to shoot her!

The shorter man scooted backwards still on his knees trying for the cover of the trees.

 “I’m staying,” the tall man, said to his companion.

“What do ya’ want to do that for? We’re lucky that Guardian don’t eat us. I’m getting out of here and not coming back.” The shorter man answered.

“What if some other hunter makes the same mistake? I’ve got to stay and make sure that doesn’t happen. You’ll be alright on your own.”

The shorter man looked at his companion, “Aw, go on then. I’m not stayin’. You want to be that Guardian’s dinner, you go ahead. Jus’ don’t be thinkin’ I’ll be coming back for what’s left of you.”

He stood and trundled off into the woods, back the way they had come.

“One’s blessing go with you,” the tall man said to his companion’s retreating back and then turned to face the infant Guardian.

Lisle watched the shorter man retreat into the woods. He knew what he’d done. He wouldn’t be back. But the other one was still kneeling at the edge of the clearing.  Lisle grabbed up her sling and a stone and stood up. She stalked up to him, holding her sling ready.

“W…wh…what do you w…want?”

The man looked up. “One hear me, what if other hunters should make the same mistake? I will stay to protect the Guardian.” Then the man just looked at her, waiting.

Lisle watched his face, considering. It was kind of a nice face, if she looked past the dirt. He had a good straight nose, a full mouth just visible beneath the dark, straggly beard, and clear brown eyes that looked up at her.

 “Y…you think you c…c…can protect h…her better than mm…mm…me?” She stuttered, suddenly aware that she was talking to a grown man.

The man looked steadily up at her, then got to his feet. He stood a head and shoulders taller than she. Long, lean muscles were apparent under the hunter’s leggings and shirt. He shouldered his bow, straightened the belt holding a long, skinning knife.

“I know I can,” he said quietly and looked up at the sky where storm clouds were forming. “I’ll start by finding her some place safe and dry to stay.”

Lisle followed his gaze, looked surprised and said, “O…oh, g…good idea.”

The man looked at Lisle appraisingly for a moment. “Name’s Gareth.”

“Luh..Luh…Lisle,” she replied.

“Words don’t come easy to you do they Lisle? You didn’t do too bad back when you thought the Guardian might’ve got hurt.”

Lisle looked down at her toes.

“It don’t matter none. People talk way too much for my liking. I’ll take a look around.”
Gareth turned away from Lisle and headed back into the woods.

Lisle walked back across the clearing to the Guardian, the short, spring grasses under her feet, fragrant in the morning sun. The wind followed her, playful now, tickling the hairs at the back of her neck. The Guardian was nuzzling the dead burrower and looked up at Lisle beseechingly.

“I’m s…s…s…sorry. I’ll c…cut it.”

Lisle made short work of cutting up the burrower so the Guardian could eat.

She sat down on the hard, warm surface beside the hatchling as she ate, her mind a torrent of questions. Who is this man? This Gareth? Seems like he cared that his friend almost hurt the Guardian, but can we trust him?

Lisle looked at the Guardian as she ate hungrily. It was a messy business which might have turned some stomachs but mattered not at all to Lisle. She felt fierce love for the hatchling well up in her chest. I will take care of her. I will keep her safe. She had never felt anything so powerfully. Nothing will harm her!

Gareth returned to the clearing not long after he had left. Lisle watched him cautiously, fingering her sling. He knelt before the Guardian and waited with a hunter's patience for her to finish her meal and her fastidious ablutions afterward.

Then he addressed the Guardian directly, “There’s a small, dry cave not far from here. It’ll be shelter and protection. There’s a nice, flat rock out front where you can sun yourself. I’d be honored to show you the way there.”

Lisle watched, wondering, as the Guardian just looked at Gareth, a rumbling purr in her chest. He looked back at her, eyebrows lifted. The Guardian continued to stare at him. Lisle saw him sway on his knees toward her, a smile creeping up onto the edges of his mouth. He took in a deep breath as a tear slowly trickled down his cheek, seemingly unnoticed by him.

Lisle knew the love that made him smile like that, knew the emotion that triggered that tear, and she felt a twinge of jealousy.

Then the Guardian broke eye contact and rose awkwardly. Her brown mottled hind legs pushing up, forearms balancing. She shivered wings, increasingly olive-toned, into place at her sides. The smooth, dappled scales of her body rustled softly and she took several shaky steps using all four limbs to move. Lisle moved along beside her, hand on her back.

I guess we trust him, thought Lisle.

Shaking his head as though to clear it,  Gareth stood up, swiping quickly at his cheek, and led the trembly Guardian and Lisle to the cave he had found.

*****

Deep within Guardian Mountain. Gran Bryl walked the bright Pathways of the One and felt a surge of relief. For now, Ell’s safe. 

She noted with pleasure the sparkling bond cord stretching between Ell and her Contracted. Safe, but still so fragile. 

​Her thoughts shifted. She turned away and cast her awareness back out, following the web of light through the black void, searching for the other.

The other, who would harm Ell if he could, who wanted to harm them all.
 
 

Lisle woke just as the first hints of dawn lightened the eastern sky. She felt a little stiff from her night on the rock beside the Guardian, but deeply contented. She was surprised by how warm the Guardian's bulk felt against her back as she curled a little closer to escape the early morning chill. The Guardian slept peacefully.

Looking up to check on her, Lisle noticed a small bit of bright green on the inside curve of the sleeping hatchling’s forearm. She looked closer and saw translucent wings folded back over a tiny sleeping body, and a fuzz of moss-green hair. Day of the One, small one, thought Lisle. You should have a name. I’ll call you Moss. Day of the One, Moss, Lisle thought to the tiny sleeper. Moss didn’t seem to notice. She slept on, undisturbed.

The Guardian stirred and lifted her head. She looked sleepily at Lisle, eyes half closed.

Ðay of th…the… One,” said Lisle softly. A slow closing and opening of the Guardian’s eyes was the only answer. Lisle felt inside for that wrenching hunger of yesterday. She felt only her own normal, morning hunger. None of that twisting torment. The Guardian must not be hungry yet, she thought. I am though. I forgot to eat mid-day and end-day yesterday. And I’ve got chores to do!
Lisle wanted to communicate what she needed to do today with the hatchling but the length of words and the idea of stumbling through them stopped her. Instead, she knelt before the Guardian and gently touched her forehead to the warm, smooth, scales between the hatchling’s eyes.

I’ve got to go back to the cottage now and let Mina know we are alright. I’ve got a lot of chores to do. I’ll be back to hunt for you soon. Send Moss here if you need anything. She pointed at the sleeping form on the Guardian’s forearm.

She sat up and said more slowly, aloud, “I’ll b…b…be back ll…l…later w…with ff…f…food.”

The Guardian gazed at Lisle then put her head down and closed her eyes. Lisle wasn’t sure if the hatchling had understood her, but she looked content. Lisle turned and headed off.

Arriving back at a cottage shrouded in early morning mist, she quickly fed the clucking, hungry layers, and filled their water trough. She looked up to see if smoke rose from the chimney of the cottage but saw nothing. Mina must still be asleep. Maybe I can get in without waking her.

She opened the door gently and saw Mina, asleep in the rocker beside the hearth, her mouth slightly open and a soft flutter of breath moving the edge of a woven blanket that covered her.

Stepping inside Lisle closed the door softly, and tip-toed around Mina to search for something to eat. Her stomach was complaining in earnest now.

Mina startled up. “Lisle! There you are! I was worried when you didn’t come home. There are night singers out there you know.” She rubbed reddened eyes.

“S…sorry.” Lisle looked at Mina, her hands twisting in her overdress. “N…no nuh..night singers, M…Mina.”

“Well, there could have been. I was scared for you.”

Lisle looked down, scuffing her toe on the floor. “Sss..sorry,” she mumbled, and she was. She didn’t like to worry Mina.

“Well, never mind. Did you feed the Guardian? Is it alright?

“Uh…I hu…hunted. Fuh…fed her.”

“Her is it? And she ate? From your hand? Well, that’s something then. Hungry?"

Lisle nodded.

"I’ll start the porridge. You make up the fire.”

Mina, stood then and gave her a quick, hard hug.

“I’m glad you’re home safe.”

Lisle hugged her back just as hard, feeling such love for her sister well up inside. She was so grateful to have Mina. 

“L…love you, Mina.”

“Well…” said Mina. Swiping at eyes suddenly teary, she turned away to fold the blanket she had been using over the back of the rocker and smoothed her dress. Then she clattered about grabbing a pot and filling it with grain and water, as Lisle built up the fire from the morning’s coals.

Porridge ladled out with spoonful’s of syrup on top, Mina and Lisle sat at the small table to eat. Lisle was hungry and shoveled the warm, sweet cereal into her mouth. Looking up she saw Mina watching her.

“W…what?”

“I looked in Ma-Marn’s Book of One yesterday.” Mina got up to fetch the book from where she’d left it on the lid of their Ma-Marn's chest. Moving her bowl aside she placed it on the table, her hands resting on the cover. “Do you remember the chapter about raising a Guardian?”

“N…n…no,” mumbled Lisle through another mouthful of porridge.

“It says that the Guardian will only eat meat that has been hunted in a special way. Here, I’ll read it to you.”

Lisle stopped eating, her spoon half-way to her mouth, suddenly afraid she’d got it wrong somehow.

“Go ahead and eat. The Guardian ate didn’t she? You must have done it right.”

Mina read.
“A new-hatched Guardian cannot hunt for itself. It relies completely on it’s Contracted to feed it. It will eat from the hand of no other. Even until it’s second skin must the Guardian rely upon it’s Contracted for sustenance. Thus, may the Contracted be recognized.
The Contracted must hunt, for the infant Guardian will only eat meat willingly offered by a creature of the One. It must be hunted in the sacred way, with reverence for the sacrifice. Thus, the Guardian and all, benefit from the loving gift of the One. It is so and has always been so.”   

Mina closed the book. “If she ate what you hunted for her, you have to be her Contracted Lisle, and you must be hunting the right way. How’d you know how to do that?”

Lisle looked at Mina, feeling both gratified and slightly confused.

“Uh…I don’t kn…know?”

“Well, you’d better get back out there and feed her. I’ll take care of your chores today.”

Smiling and nodding, Lisle, hastily spooned the rest of her porridge into her mouth in one huge mouthful, cheeks expanding like a tree climber, and jumped up from the table. Clattering her dishes in the wash pan, she dashed out the door, swallowing hard several times to get it all down.

Remembering herself then, she dashed back through the still closing door, and kissed Mina on the cheek.

“Th…th…thank you!" She breathed, then turned to run back to where her heart lay sleeping in the early morning sun. 

The Alpha threw back her head, raised her grey-furred muzzle and sang. The long, haunting melody drifted on the cool, night air. Her pack gathered in delighted canine chorus, tails wagging excitedly, yipping and singing their joy together under the starlit sky. 

Soon, hunger growled in her belly and the Alpha abandoned her song and started off in the direction her heart told her to go. Her pack followed close behind.

The Alpha moved silently through the dark underbrush. Her long, gray coat still held traces of its winter thickness. Its warmth felt good to her this night. She could hear her pack-mates moving along, ranged out now on either side of her, though no one at any distance would have known they were there. She could smell the familiar odor of them and it reassured her to have them close.

 It had been too long since they had eaten well. Her belly growled acknowledgment. It was a good night for the hunt, the air being quiet and clear. She held her nose up as she moved, tasting the air for traces of anything that smelled of prey.

What was that? The odor wafted past her sensitive nostrils. It speaks of creature, but so sweet. What could that be here near her home?

The Alpha saw the muzzles of her companions lift into the air, scenting just as she had. She let out a low, questioning whine. They would move closer and find this creature, perhaps it would fill their hungry bellies. Head down now, tracking back and forth, she found the ground trail and moved forward stealthily.

She crept, head down, holding her body close to the cool earth now, smooth gray, furred muscles rippling invisibly in the darkness.

They were almost upon it. The strong, sweet creature smell of it foreign to her and yet enticing, so enticing. She could feel her mouth watering in anticipation of the meal to come. Snuffling the ground the Alpha detected the odor of a two-legged as well and this made her distinctly uneasy. But she was so hungry. Her packmates spread out, encircling their prey. She would approach from the front holding the creature’s attention. Her packmates would attack from the sides and rear. Their prey would have no escape.

The Alpha moved past the cover of the bushes she had crept through. She could see it now. It lay upon a large, flat stone, the two-legged curled beside it. She crept closer. The creature raised its head. It was aware of her now. Good, it would not be aware of her pack-mates. The Alpha stood before it, a low growl escaped her throat. The creature did not run. It did not even rise. It just moved one forearm gently over the sleeping two-legged.

Looking at the hatchling creature she thought, it is only a suckling. Easy prey. Tonight, we eat by the Will of the One. She crouched to spring. 

Even as the Alpha prepared to attack she studied the creature intently. She could see sparkling light surrounding it, utterly unlike the gentle light she perceived around her packmates and around her usual prey. She paused, feeling confused and wary. Her packmates waited for her attack to signal their own.
​
What is this creature? She thought.

Her stomach growled, impatient for sustenance, clearing her thoughts of confusion.

We eat, thought the Alpha and gathered her hindquarters to spring.

Sparkling light poured out of the creature, surrounding the Alpha in a blanket of warmth and comfort. She felt her muscles relax. She stood, whining, uncertain. Contentment filled her. Her belly no longer complained. She felt satisfied to her very bones, nourished as if she might never need to eat again. The Alpha moved closer, crouching and lying down, her head at the creature’s clawed feet. She felt as she had when a suckling, replete with milk, lying alongside her littermates, safely encircled by her mother’s warm body. She heard her packmates moving in closer, lying beside her at the creature’s feet. Then her heart knew.

This creature is of the One. This creature is Guardian.

The Alpha didn’t question how she knew, trusting her heart utterly. She rolled over onto her back, exposing her tender belly and throat in submission. She felt a light touch of the Guardian’s muzzle to the underside of her jaw.

Joyously, the Alpha flipped over, her agile body twisting. She sprang to her feet, her tail high, mouth open in canine joy. She splayed her front paws before her, bowing down inviting her packmates to play and leapt joyously at the one closest to her. Then she dashed off into the woods, her packmates in bounding pursuit.