She was ignorant to the ways of the mountain. Ignorant to the older gods of her desert (for Tak lived there, in the snake and the scorpion and the eagle at high noon) and the fact she was not yet worthy of her blood. Perhaps she had been cleansed, but he doubted this. So few could be exhumed. The girl started when he mentioned the dead and he did not overlook this. At least, the can tah did not overlook it. He heard the whispering voice raise up and cause him to take notice, to study her sharp features and cat-green eyes. Her question made his face break into that peculiar smile, ivory teeth flashing.
“Come back here,” he said, neither asking nor demanding. “Come back when the moon is half. I’ll tell you if you can show me what you learned from him.” Orange eyes burned, and he let out a harsh laugh, turning from her. One hand rose in a farewell wave, scars shining against dark fur. Without another word the broad-shouldered wolf walked back the way he had come, listening to nothing but the ever present voice of the stone eagle around his throat.
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