The Fire that Fills Us with Passion will Never Die

[Ralla]

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(Nootau: Visible)

It had almost been a snap decision to do what she was doing then. Ever since the falling of the Spirit Oak south of the village, Ralla had been a little saddened to see the old tree fall and decay as it was. Its once large and reaching branches had been shattered and scattered by the snowstorm, and many of the spirit guide carvings had become unrecognizable from the wearing and breaking. But the tree that Ralla and her family made their home in was new and strong, and would live and grow for many, many seasons more. She had taken a knife she had cluttered about the many knick-knacks and things strewn about her home and went down to the root of the tree, where she would begin.

Like many AniWayan homes, and by tradition, the family unit was unique and very closely held together. Ralla would have her home in the red maple and the observatory go to no one but her descendants, and so she held the knife point to the tree's bark and began the slow process of chiseling the shape of an owl into it. She chanted in her mind the ancient AniWayan words of prayer for imbuing an object with the protection of the spirits as she did so, and Nootau looked on from a branch above. He had been more silent than normal ever since Maska arrived, and the activity the white woman was doing was but a pleasant distraction from all the hate and pain he had brought. Ralla knew what she had to do to stop everything, but she didn't want to leave her children behind or put them in danger. She would have to be careful, but...should all else fail, her mark would be left in the tree. The mother had heard that Ayasha had received her own spirit guide, recently, and wanted to let Ayasha carve her giude--whatever it was--into the tree as well. The family would live in a living totem pole.

Moon walks. "Moon talks." Moon thinks.

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