Page 38 of The Spirit of the Wolf

Again, he nodded. “I have understood this from the first time you mentioned it to me. But now I must ask you something else.”

“Yes?”

“When the time comes when we must leave one another, I would ask you to throw me away.”

“What do you mean, throw you away?”

“In the Assiniboine camp, this is how a couple parts. She takes a stick. It represents her husband. She throws it away. This action rids both man and woman of their marriage, leaving each free to pursue other interests…or not.”

“I see. But what if I am unable to do it, or do not wish to? Couldn’t you do the same to me? Throw me away?”

“Hau. It is so. But I do not think I would ever do it.”

Sadly, she cast her glance away from his. “It would appear neither one of us wishes to part.” She paused. “Come to England with me. Help me do what I must. Then we will return here, and you can follow the path you must do. If you do this, don’t you see, I would be here with you.”

He shook his head. “I have only until my thirtieth year to complete my task. I am now twenty-nine winters old. It is summer. Winter will soon be upon us. I have very little time left in which to accomplish much.”

“Oh.” She nodded. “Yes, yes, I understand the problem now.”

“But perhaps you could stay with me until either I solve the mystery, or turn thirty, and then⁠—”

“I cannot stay here,” she reiterated, sending her perusal, once again, off to the side of him. “I, too, must act quickly.”

He didn’t respond, and they stood there together, wet, cold and worlds apart. At last a chilly breeze roused them, and he was the first to speak. “Then come. As I said before, it is destined that one must sometimes lose the one who gives him pleasure.”

“Yes, I suppose you speak true.”

“Hau,” he agreed. “Many people have the rest of their lives to come to know one another; we have only several days, or perhaps a moon. But do not lose hope. The passage of time does not govern the intensity of the heart. One can as easily feel strongly about another in the breath of a moment, as within a hundred winters.”

“This is true.”

“And if this be so, then let us, by our actions today, do only those which will remain in our hearts always. In this way, though we may be apart, forever we will have our memories.”

She swallowed on an ever-tightening throat.

And he carried on, saying, “When the time comes, and you throw me away, it will signify to others that you are free to live a good life elsewhere, one without me. And perhaps, I, too.”

She nodded. At the moment, words failed her.

“You will do it?” he asked.

Once again, she inclined her head, then whispered softly, “I will. But not until the time comes to do it.”

“Hau. Not until then.”

This said, he took her in his arms, holding her tightly, as though he feared she might disappear this very minute. He sighed, and slowly, one muscle at a time, he began to enact his earlier promise, and with his fingers, he gently worked over the muscles of her back.

“Hmm,” she hummed. “That feels good.”

“Hau. It does.”

Smiling, she turned into his arms, inviting him to massage the front of her as well. As he gladly complied, she pushed her fingers through the long length of his dark mane.

“I love the feel of your hair,” she said. “Why do you wear it so long?”

“It is a symbol of manliness—or womanliness, as well, depending upon to whom you speak. Long hair is much prized by all my people. It can have great power. And one only cuts his hair if there is a death of a loved one. Do you not like it?”

“I love it.” She ran each lock through her fingers more passionately. “I love it.”