The
woman closed the door again, confused.
'What was that all about? What was he trying to say?'
'Something he's been telling us for weeks, since the death of
Kamela, and before.'
'What?' She knew, deep down.
'That he must leave us soon. That his place is with the pack, his
real kindred. They need him now as much as we do. I think that only
his shoulder---'
'It's not TRUE.' She sat down on the floor, a forlorn bundle in
a world made suddenly colder. 'He wouldn't leave us like
this.' She tried to rationalize, arguing with whom she did not know.
'You're not able to hunt.'
'No, but I will be soon, with as much chance as he. And you can live
on sebreum.'
'But Alaska,' she insisted (the name she had given the pup).
'He knows I will not let her starve. I'm sorry, Sylviana. But
his place is with his own kind.'
'It's not fair.' Her eyes would not stop filling.
Kalus picked up the fur she had discarded, and gently replaced it around
her shoulders. He put his hand on her head shyly, feeling unworthy, and
unable to do more. But beneath his breath he made this vow.
'So long as there is life inside me, you will never be alone.'
He moved away, unable to face the apparition of Winter's resistance
to his life and to his dreams. To love so deeply, and with so little
hope.
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