wolf dreamer slowly straightened from where he had been standing over the still body of the man who had told him to leave this place.

the stranger had spoken in protectiveness. the dreamer faulted him nothing.

he had found the grave in the plains and tried to piece together what had happened. first the mother had fallen to this bleak disease, and she had been buried here by unknown persons.

now the spine itself. it had taken the dreamer a long while to force himself over the borders, but he had come over them to find a scene raked by the wind and etched into the earth.

for a long time he had stood waiting to be accosted, and when that did not happen, he had pressed forward.

the densite had been ravaged. so many had run here, fought here; he imagined their shouts. careful investigation provided evidence for three pups. "and one a dreamer," he said in pain to himself.

he tried to count the marks in the loam around the stiffened corpse, revealing that more than the man's pack had been here. three children. 

the trails were very faint. one held the steps of a woman and maybe one of the children, though he could not be sure. the second trail was that of a stranger, her aura not quite wolf. had a second child gone with her?

but no, here was another wolf, bounding after her. he shared packscent with at least one of these others, though it was not the fragrance of dragons.

the third track was that of a young man and a pup, leading away from the other two.

wolf dreamer stood at their junction. he knew by the rot which clung to the blood of the man that he should not be touched. but he had stood in finality for his children, given himself in sacrifice to nature and wolftooth.  

tears dripped down into the dirty fur.

when wolf dreamer left, it was only after many stones had been piled over that body, a high cairn which marked the denmouth.

the golden threads were silent over the mountain. 

he headed south, following the fading track left by the unknown woman of a differing pack.