Silvertip Mountain Outside the night wind keens and wails

Perhaps, but these were times when such things were not so clearly defined. Wolf and bear could share in the same strength, as could the elk, the foxes, the badgers. It was an age of magic.

The Taggerung did not wish for Cluny’s mind to be so narrow. Over time, bears had grown into fierce creatures with razors at their fingertips and jaws as powerful as the force of a wave. Wolves too had changed since the age of the Kojall and his kin.

Kojall began with stones, demonstrating the broadness of his shoulders and the fullness of his chest. Carog met the stones with boulders of his own, calling upon his kin to stack massive rocks upon his back until it seemed unlikely he could carry many more.

Kojall met the bear with his own might, unafraid of such raw strength. He too gathered his kin and they stacked stone and tree upon his spine, towering to the very height that Carog had reached.

What now, wolf? We have gathered all that we can and even I can see that we carry much of the same weight. Carog did not seem pleased with the outcome of the task at that point, he had grown tired of the games of wolves.

Kojall suggested that they ask for the Moon Owl to help. That night, the bear and wolf called to the Moon Owl and she offered them the strength of gods until the night of the next full moon. They would show their intentions along with their might.

Carog and Kojall grew taller and stronger than any of their kin, any of the wolves or bears who had lived before. Over a month, they gathered items along their backs until the two beasts stood taller than the mountains. Wilderness played between their shoulders, along their spines. Like moving worlds, Carog carried forests and plateaus upon his spine. Kojall’s back held the same.

The night of the full moon was near and there was still no clear winner.