Preface;

“My name is Zigana Godswolf, and I’d like to weave a world in words…”

Well, as some of you know, I was born to one of the great Desert Wolf packs, but I didn’t know it as a pup. You see, my dear sister Oceana and I were raised at the edges of this very Wood, in the glade of our mother. We lived happily here for all too short a time, before our parents were called away on a mission that to this day we don’t know, because they were never seen again in this world. Then one day, our Father’s brother came for us and took us to the lands of the Godswolves.

Now that was an adjustment. From the blissful ignorance of our childhood spent in our secluded glade, where we learned the songs of both the Golden and the Silver moons, to the stresses of Pack-Life, where many eyes watched over you, and in the Godswolf Pack, the magic of the Silver moon was looked down upon. Our uncle was very kind, however, and took care of us while still watching over his own children.

They were three boys, Dominique the oldest, who had the cold eyes of our Grandfather. Luki was next, who showed the world a slow wit, when his mind was continuously working beneath. The youngest was Alexi, who was my age. He was very quiet at first, but we soon grew to be as close as brother and sister, as he was unaccepted by his brothers. He used to come into Oshi and my tent, and we would play and sing, and tell each other stories about our parents, and his departed mother.

We were all the grandchildren of the Alpha of the Godswolves. Oshi and I were the daughters of his oldest son, who had left the pack and his responsibilities as heir for our mother, a Faewolf, and servant of the Silver moon. Our Grandfather, then, held an instant dislike for us in his cold eyes. He saw us once upon our arrival, and sent us out in the care of our Uncle. I immediately had to learn the way of the females of the pack, carrying water from the stream, stitching the garments, cooking the food, and gossiping in the gatherings. There was also singing involved, which I was very good at, having been taught by my father who had been known for his gift of story and song. The wolves who knew him used to say how much I reminded them of him. At night, Alexi used to come to us and teach us what he’d been taught that day, of hunting and fighting and lettering. Oshi was particularly good at pouncing, as I recall.

Time went by, we all grew older, and it was my 13th cycle of the seasons when I was touched by magic. I’d been sitting in my tent, practicing my reading, and I began to reminisce about our time in the Glade, and the faces of my parents. I didn’t notice a contemplative blue haze develop around me. It wasn’t until Oshi came in to see me, when she suddenly exclaimed, “Gana, you’re blue!”

For three days I hid in the tent. We showed Alexi, of course, who covered for me by telling our uncle that I was suffering from “Female Problems,” which kept him at bay. In that time we found that the blue would change to orange if I was anxious, to purple when I slept, to yellow when I got excited. We also found that it could be subdued slightly if I covered myself with a blanket. Our excuse didn’t last long enough, though. Eventually my dear uncle pushed himself in to see if I was okay.

He didn’t know what else to do. He had to show me to Grandfather. A council of elders was called, and my Uncle presented my case. I was looked upon with hatred, not a single look of passion or pity did I receive, worst of all from Grandfather. This is sort of a painful moment in my life, so I’ll make the long story short by saying that I was banished from the pack, to walk alone wherever my feet deemed fit. So I had to leave my sister and my dear cousin and uncle to try and find a place where I would be accepted.

I found myself facing the edge of the Wylde Wood, and there I stepped on my first path. I thought that maybe I could find my way to the Glade of my childhood, but the Wylde had a different plan for me. I found myself insufferably lost. I walked the paths of the Wylde Wood for days unnumbered, until I finally gave up on any hope of a destination, which, of course, is when She gave me one.

Here I found myself, in the camp of the Gypsy Wolf pack, the Nightwolves. It was made up of wolves of all packs, and different races, and mixtures of them all in one. They took me in without question; in fact, they’d been expecting me. Their Alpha was a Female, who had the Sight that my Grandfather had once had, that my cousin Alexi was born with. She’d seen my coming in the stars, and it was from her that I learned my forms of divination, and it was from the Nightwolves that I learned the ways of the Wylde. It was also here that I honed my skills as a storyteller, here, in Story circle after Story circle. Here where worlds were weaved in words and song, with actions and pictures.

There were many strangers who passed through the Nightwolf camp on their way through the Wylde. From the North there were cats; from the south there were Witches and Shifters. I met a Flamerider Witch, who was an ancestor of Alexi on his mother’s side, and told him where to find the Godswolf lands to meet him. I wondered many a night if he had ever found it.

Anyway, I digress. From the far south one night was a group of Vampires. I noticed they wore black cloaks, and I asked why. They told me that it was to keep the light of day from seeing them, and I was struck by such a simple concept. If they could have cloaks to keep the light out, then I could have a cloak to keep the light in. I asked them where I might find material like what they wore, and they handed me several yards of it. It was weaved in a way that I’d never seen before, and the outside had a peculiar shine to it. I sewed myself a cloak, and turned it inside out from the way the Vampires wore it, and it hid my colors perfectly. Even with the hood down they were barely noticeable.

Then I decided that it was high time to go out on my own again. The Nightwolves were kind, and were very near to family, particularly Erian, the daughter of the Alpha, but this couldn’t be my home forever. Since I now had a way to keep attention off of me, it was time to leave.

I set foot on the path again, this time in harmony with the Wylde, allowing her to take me where she thought I should be. Only a few nights went by before I found myself in Lita.

The legends of Lita are many fold, of creatures with wings that live off the paths of the Wyldewood in the glorious city in the trees, and many of them are true. These stories are for another time, but I will tell you that they are the immortal Fae, and are fallen from the city in the sky, and I happen to be related to them. Long ago the first Fae fell in love with a wolf of no name, and they gave birth to the first Faewolf, ancestor to my mother. And there the mysteries of my colors were explained. The Fae were given a tangible energy that replaced their lost wings, and they could form the energy any way they chose. Some formed the wings they lost, while others formed glorious wings from their imaginations alone. They taught me how it was done, and though I could not fly with mine, I was finally able to control the color’s form. It gave me a freedom that I’d sorely missed, to be able to see clearly without the cover of cloak. They gave me a gift then, a bracelet chained to a ring, with a stone that was a dead gray until I put it on. The colors concentrated themselves into the stone, and it was easier to form my wings this way. I spent about a turn of the moon with them in the city in the trees, until my Several-Greats over Grandfather sent me with my cousin Kerwin to guide me to a place he suspected I would like to see.

Kerwin took the form of a Raven to guide me through the woods until we came to what I can only call a small castle. It was a building of stone, with one great tower that reached to the tops of the trees. Kerwin explained that it was the home of one of my grandfather Faewolves, who had an extensive library of lore and science, and felt the call to the sky that his fae brethren all felt, so he built this place. This building in the woods was in a way my inheritance, and it was a place I could finally call home.

This was more than I’d ever dreamed of. I could control my curse, I knew my heritage, in fact really knew it in life, and I finally had a home. Not only a home, but there were also shelves and shelves of the history of the world, and theories of other wolves that shared my curse. The only thing I was missing was my dear sister, also my cousin who had been my best friend.

It was no more than a week ago that this missing piece found me again. I’d been near the path hunting, when I found that I was being hunted as well. “Gana,” came the voice from the trees.

“There’s a name I haven’t been called for many years,” I said, recognizing the voice. Oshi came running and we shared a long-awaited hug. She’d grown quite a bit since I left her and Alexi at the edge of the Godswolf lands, and was truly now a grown wolf. I invited her to my home, and there we shared news from our lives apart. She was amazed by my wings, and was as happy to know their origin as I had been. She was excited to hear about our cousins in the Fae City, and now shared my knowledge of the Wylde Wood, as she’d been able to hear her voice as she’d looked for me.

She brought less exciting news, however. The Flamerider Witch had indeed found the Godswolf camp, and met Alexi. This was not the disturbing part, for Alexi was thrilled to meet a relative of his mother, and met him in secret for many nights, introducing him to Oshi alone at first. He knew that if his Grandfather found out about him, he could have had him killed, and he wanted to learn about the ways of the Shifting Witches that had given his mother her gift. It turned out that Alexi also had the gift of shifting, not only from the four-pawed to the two-legged form of the wolf, which he’d learned swifter than most, but to other forms as well. The Flamerider was happy to see that the gift had been passed down, and taught him much. The Flamerider, however, wanted to meet the other sons of Alexi’s mother, so he brought them to him.

Dominique and Luki were, let’s say, less thrilled to meet their cousin. And Dominque betrayed their secret almost immediately. Grandfather was in a rage, and even in his old age came swiftly to the place where they would meet. The Flamerider, however, sensing the treachery of Dominique from his eyes, shifted to the form of a stone, and hid at the base of a tree so that Grandfather could not see. He came and howled in anger into the sky, “I killed the evil wife of my son for her Witchcraft, I shall kill you if you show your face here again!”

Alexi had heard him, for he and Oshi had followed and hidden in the shadows. Hearing from his own mouth that he had killed his mother he leaped from their hiding place to attack Grandfather, but even in his old age he held him down. “Would you challenge me now, heir?” he snarled.

“No, and I never shall! I want nothing to do with your wicked ways!” Alexi barked in return, pushed Grandfather away from him, and ran towards the woods. Oshi swiftly followed, and Grandfather growled as he went back to his tent.

Finally Oshi caught him, and they shared a few words. Alexi swore to never return there again, and he at that moment forsook the name Godswolf, and took on the name Flamerider. He told Oshi to take the news back to his father, and tell him that he was sorry. And the Flamerider Witch found them there.

“I’m sorry Oshi,” Alexi said to her, “But like your father and our sister I must now leave.” And then he left south to cross the river with the Flamerider Witch.

So, Oshi went back to the camp, to bring the news to our Uncle. He then broke down into tears, and took ill from that moment. She’d been tending him for almost a Turn of the Moon, when Dominique went insane, as far as she could tell. With no warning, he suddenly began calling to all wolves to go with him to form a new pack. The old was withering, and the last hope of the Godswolves had deserted them, so he took the Alpha role upon himself to whoever would listen. Most of the younger wolves followed him, including Luki, who he named Beta, and they disappeared. Oshi told me that she’d heard he was calling to wolves from all packs, and was forming an army of foolish young wolves, but that could just be rumor.

Finally she came to the reason she’d come to find me. Our Uncle was finally dying, after several moons of tending to him, and was asking for me. When she’d reminded him of my banishment, he told her that he didn’t care, and that he and his wife had gone many times in secret to visit our parents, and that she could bring me to his deathbed. When she told him she worried that she might not find me in time, he’d told her to listen to the Wylde, and that he would wait for her return. It was what had to be. So she came into the Wylde Wood, heard her voice, and in a matter of nights found me.

The news came heavily to my ears, and I said that we should go at once. We spent the night at my home in the woods, and at the waking of the Golden Moon set out on the path, and found ourselves here in our time of weariness.

“And this ends my story. I’ve brought you the world that I have lived the last several Seasons, and I return to the world I live now.”

“Wonderfully told Zig,” The head of the story circle said. “I always enjoy when you tell a tale.”

“Thank you,” Zigana said, the firelight flickered as she looked at the Nightwolf sitting across from her, causing her blue eyes to have a certain sparkle. “I always enjoy this audience.”

“I think we have time for one more story before we break. Would anyone like to weave us a world?”

“Make it a quick one,” A black-furred wolf at the east side of the circle said. “We’re getting kind of tired.”

“I have one,” Said a white wolf, standing next to the fire. “My name is Erian Nightwolf, and I’d like to weave a world in verse.”

Zigana turned to her spot at the west side of the circle, her black cloak fluttering at her feet, to sit by a slender wolf of speckled fur, who had her arms around her knees.

“You left a few things out,” she said to her.

“They weren’t important to the story. I couldn’t give out every detail.”

“Uncle Lowel would have been proud.”

“Thank you, Oshi. Maybe there’ll be time to tell him a story when we get back.”

“I know that I’m normally the optimistic one, but realistically-“

“Shh, I’d like to save the illusion for a moment.”

Oshi smiled, “I guess we need to save it as long as we can.”