Wolfhound Wanderings

For those of you who are keeping track, the wolfhound is the final incarnation of the wolf/coyote schizofrenia issue.

The river folk gathered once again at the greyhound's den but this time they were invited. Many of the younger animals that had been at the taking of the greyhound were absent, but they had not known the wolfhound. The ocelot pitied them; the wolfhound was a creature worth knowing.

When most of those who were coming had gathered, they started down the hill. The ocelot ran ahead, with the flamingo and the bobcat close behind. The greyhound and the agouti followed at a more leisurely pace, but they didn't arrive long after the others.

Gathered at the meeting place were others--the cougar, the chipmunk, and the squirrel from the other side of the river, and the tree frog and the brown bear cub from the males of the stone jungle. The hawk flew in unnexpectedly. The only beast missing was the badger. The ocelot missed her.

After a time, silence fell on the gathering. The gathering was not small, and the river folk did not represent the majority, but when the wolfhound rose to speak, it was like he was talking to them. The wolfhound spoke of many things, but under every word spoken was another of farewell. The ocelot was torn between happiness for the wolfhound and sorrow for herself. She buried the latter emotion, as she felt a little self-centered for harboring it.

After the gathering had reached its end, the wolfhound greeted all of them merrily. The ocelot took her turn embracing her rarely-seen friend and lingered watching him after he had moved on. For two cycles of seasons, she would not see the wolfhound.

She turned to the rest of the river folk, tears hiding just beyond her eyes. She looked especially to the bobcat, the cougar, the flamingo, and the bear cub. In her mind she saw them standing with the serval and the fox. Behind them were the hawk and the badger, and farther were animals that the ocelot held in fondness, but only vaguely recalled. She bit back her tears. She didn't like to cry. But she couldn't imagine these creatures, her family away from her family, falling into the obscurity the older animals had passed into. Her fur stood on end. She wouldn't let that happen. Never. And to keep these creatures close, she would keep the wolfhound near with words, if in no other way.

The wolfhound is leaving on the 15th. He's going to Peru after the MTC. He's so awesome. You think I missed him and the hawk and the badger last year, when they had only graduated. Hah! And the seniors this year...I think this is the closest I've ever been to the swim team. I'm not going to get through the end-of-year shindig without crying my eyes out.