Save Yorilis and the Grackle, none of my brethren even know the danger they were in. I won’t bother trying to explain it to them. My victorious return to Treehorn Hall is uneventful, though I will never again be the man I was only a couple of moons ago.
Rulgor might sense that I have changed, though he cannot know the nature of it. “Brahkis, I have a new mission for you!” he says after calling me to his shelter.
Knowing my chieftain, I remain silent, waiting for him to continue. Interruptions never turn out well.
“Word has reached me from our brother-clan, the Hammer Elks. They are having trouble with foreign invaders — not threats of war, as of yet, but a strange affliction seems to be clouding their minds. You are a resourceful one; I’ve decided to honor you with the task of serving as our emissary to their lands.”
The Hammer Elks and Shaddowwolves hold an old alliance, but we have seen little of one another for at least a generation. My chieftain has never shown interest in affairs outside his own territory – why would he now choose magnanimity?
“What say you, Brahkis?”
“I shall obey my Chieftain, as always,” I say, bowing my head. He nods and I take that as my cue to leave. I have no connection to the people Rulgor bids me help, but in truth, I could use a new beginning. I wonder if Rhiannon would like to come along …
THE END