Hushed Willows A Silent Retreat

The Rhythm is nature, Wake said simply. It is our impulses. It is the thing that connects us all. It is fate itself. He did not get up to emphasize his words; the information relayed from his prone and relaxed position in a matter-of-fact manner.

You speak of it when you speak of balance. Life and death are also a part of the Rhythm, the missionary went on to explain. The turn of day and night, the passing of the seasons. From the weather, down to the prey we catch. To the things that prey on us. It is all the Rhythm of things, whether one accepts it or not.

Wake glanced to see her eat with more voraciousness than before, at last giving in to her hunger. You will meet who I know and meet many more on your own, he smiled. The valley is richly populated. Which would make for the most interesting existence, in his opinion. Why be a pack in isolation when they could instead make friends? And what were friends if not useful.