Moments like these needed a hero, they needed a story of deep loss and greater regain. Anu would tell them a story of awakening and of love.
Blue eyes looked at the two females, and they rested on her son for a long moment. When there was nothing they could do but wait there was no reason not to leave this world for a moment, and she could see in their eyes that they all wanted to go.
She nodded, settling deeper into her seat and closed her eyes to gather the tale for a brief moment. It was old, and the details had changed through the generations but Anu remembered it just as it had been told to her for it was one of her favorites.
The grey and silver wolf took a deep breath, and then began…
"This story is an old one, and tells of the time of when gods and goddess’ walked the world with all those creatures of blood and flesh. A time when Luperci lived in the veins of wolves that honored the deities with great respect and faith.
There lived a wolfess, her fur was silver and she was loved by all. The pack would speak her name in a gentle tone, her beauty as fragile as the delicate bone and the slim muscle that made her. They saw only that beauty as her rank, her worth. She wore her mane in braids, long and knotless it was a light as feathers and soft as silk.
In these times there was a goddess who walked the earth as many forms, and she was in love with the wolfess’ bright silvery white pelt. The power of her love was so strong that one day the goddess appeared to the wolf-woman as a night black crow and cried: ‘Alas, alas. I have nothing to build my nest with and my eggs will surely freeze.’ The wolfess, being as kind of heart as she was beautiful, was moved and so she cut off a braid of her silver fur.
And gave it to the goddess, who created her nest of pure soft silver.
The next day the goddess appeared to the fey wolf as a small crying pup and spoke: ‘Alas, alas I have nothing with which to weave the hair for my doll’ And again the wolfess was moved and cut off the second braid of her silver hair.
And gave it to the goddess, who added it to her nest of pure soft silver.
The third day the clever goddess appeared to the wolfess a handsome warrior and cried: ‘Alas, alas. I have nothing to wrap ‘round the hilt of my sword, and I will have no luck in battle.’ And the wolfess was moved and so she cut off the last braid of her silvery mane.
And gave it to the goddess, who completed her nest of pure soft silver.
But that evening when the goddess tried to fall asleep on her prize, she couldn’t. ‘Was it not softer before?’ she questioned. ‘And brighter? Was it not brighter?’ And the goddess could not sleep, but wept.
That night the goddess appeared to the wolfess as herself; a creature that mimicked the flesh of those that worshiped her with coat as black as the feather of a crow and with dark eyes that peered through a mask as frightening as the power that she held. She came to the wolfess but when she found her, she was weeping. ‘Alas, alas… Why do you weep? Is it the loss of you beautiful braids?’ she asked.
‘I weep out of loneliness’ she said, ‘My pack does not see my worth, without my hair who will see? Who will stay?’
And the goddess was moved, and took the mask from her face to reveal eyes no longer dark but kind. ‘Come look at the sky with me’ she said, and took the wolfess to looked up into the black night. And in the sky the she-wolf saw a silver wheel, spun of her own silver fur.
Then the goddess took the other’s hand and having found that her love was deeper then a single beautiful note, she stayed. A black night, honored only by the light of the silver wolfess’ kind heart.”
The elder’s voice slowed and ceased.
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