Wapun Meadow the needy eat man-mades, they wear phony clothes

He mentioned a bear spirit. She was not so aware of the spirits outside of the dark woods, where they came in many forms, but to her, often just energy. She wondered if this one looked like a spirit, or if to her it would also just be energy, swirling around, colouring everything around them in colours pretty or dark and grey. Only time would tell, when she would get to meet this bear spirit; or not, if all she continued to see were colours and, most of all, shades of darkness and light.

Her dark counterpart departed for a moment, climbing the rock, and it felt a bit as if a part of her was torn away all over again. But the priest had always been very much a loner. Even when her counterpart had first taken the bones of their mother she had fought to keep them in the dark woods, even though she herself did not necessarily intend to stay there herself. It was how she had been named Thief, but these days it was not a disgraceful nomer any longer, if ever it had been. They had always been close, the night and the day cub, but they had also always been their own wolves in many ways, and it remained that way to this day, time had proven. Where the night cub had found herself a pack and her Bear, the day cub had found very little. She had stayed for some time with a different assortment of wolves, and some of them had been able to ground her in some ways, their company pleasurable enough, but most of them had only driven her further into herself and into the realm of spirits rather than mortality.

The priest, too, glanced at the night cub upon her rock, feeling a tug, as Bear said that they had been lead to one another through the spirits. They guide us in many ways, she spoke. She thought of the caretaker for a brief moment, though she was not sure why. Perhaps because she was one of those spirits that guided them. Was it she who reunited the night and day cubs? She was unsure.