Stone Circle this strange weather pattern inside me takes hold.

Ears perked, Clary sponged up every word her mama spoke. A scout on a vast and dangerous mission! (Okay, so Clary embellished a little). But ma still grew cooler and cooler with every thread of the story she wove! While she spoke, her mind overflowed with questions - like, why did Silvertip need to move? Who was Steady? Why had she never met him? And why did mama look so sad? Did she miss where she used to live? But though she yearned to ask everything on her mind, and probably more, Clary dared not interrupt. How could she risk missing anything mama said?

By the end of her explanation, Clary's tail had swept most of the snow from the rock beneath her rear, and her whole body shook with the increasing want to be everything mama was. "Ooh, yes! Yes, yes, oh, yes I want to be that! I want to be an amba - am - amm - ba - ssidor!" The idea of running around for her pack and meeting other wolves of other packs put a foreign thrill in her heart - one that hadn't stirred until she'd met the Morningside wolves, and had realized how exciting the world outside could really be. And she could travel there for mama - the realization not yet dawning that this meant there would come a day she would look to the open world and find no one by her side but the lonely mountain wind.

She stored away every name mama spoke. Clary would seek them out, but really, there was only one she was positively sure she wanted to learn from. "I want you to teach me first!" Clary wriggled, and returned the kiss mama gave her with a lick of her own. "When can we start?"