Firefly Glen When Doves Cry

A moment after his own howl faded, another voice lifted — not quite in answer. Katmai stood very still, struck dumb by the song that reached him, tinny at a distance. His ears swiveled and pricked, and he listened for a long moment before setting off in search of the stranger.

She might stop singing at any moment, after all — and then how would he find her?

As her voice grew stronger — nearer — Katmai found himself answering, "I am, I am," his voice weaving beneath hers skilled but uncertain melody. He kept up the refrain, answering her as it seemed to grow more urgent, and then the song was over —

Katmai picked up the pace, crashing through the brush in the direction he'd last heard the voice. There were not many obstacles in his way. A moment later, he stood just a short distance away from her, his chest falling and rising too rapidly for the short burst of speed. It was just that, for a moment, he thought he'd lose track of her. And he was lonely, too.

He sang: "I am a man of constant sorrow. I've seen trouble all my days."

It was the song as he knew it, but it was the truth, too.

"I bid farewell to Great Bear Valley, the place where I was born and raised.

"For this long year, I've been in trouble. No pleasure here on Earth I've found.

"For in this world I'm bound to ramble — I have no friend to help me now."

He stepped close, his tail wheeling and his tongue lolling. It had been painful to sing the word — vulnerable and embarrassing. But trading voices with the stranger had helped ease the ache of loneliness in his chest.