Though the Sky People, the local humans, had recently stopped taking elfin heads, relations with them were still very shaky. What would happen to an elfin child who accidentally stumbled across a group of them in the forest?

For the Wolfrider, life is a gift, freely given and freely lived. Mothers give birth to their cubs, and rejoice in seeing the gift bestowed. Spring comes to the Forest world, as life is given to the world again, and the Wolfrider howls for joy. Every seed that sprouts, every bud that bursts, every fawn that is dropped or cub that is whelped is an ever-present reminder of the greatest gift of all, without which no other pleasure could be felt.

"What more could we want?" Stone asked, drowsily, not expecting an answer.

"What more indeed?" his lifemate answered, stretching in the warm sunlight that filtered through the glossy new-green leaves of a dreamberry bush. The woody branches of the bush formed an arch over the lifemates, half-shielding them from the dawn-grey sky above.

Stone sighed deeply and pressed his face into the hollow of Kestrel's shoulder. "I could go to sleep right here."

Kestrel chuckled. "You know the humans will be up and about."

"Mmm, they never come this far into the forest."

"'Never' isn't a wise word to use when talking about humans."

"I suppose..." He rubbed his face against her skin. "But do we have to go just yet?"

"Oh, maybe not." She looked up suddenly. "Where's Hilltop?" A light send, and a scent on the wind revealed their tiny daughter systematically beheading every pink spring flower in the patch she had found nearby.

**Pretty,** she sent.

**They won't be pretty long if you tear them up, sweet cub.** Kestrel returned.

**Pretty,** the cub stubbornly insisted.

"We'll keep a light send linked to her, so we'll know where she is. She won't wander far without us knowing." Stone reassured his lifemate. "Let her play. As long as she's playing, we can, too."

Kestrel giggled as Stone moved in closer. A morning zephyr wind blew the branches of the dreamberry bush, dragging the soft leaves against the skins of the lovers below.

"Pity it isn't full summer. There would be berries instead of blossoms," Stone said.

"As you wish, beloved." Kestrel reached up and touched a branch. Treeshaper's magic flowed from her finger, bringing the end of the branch to maturity at her gentle insistence. In moment, a small cluster of ripe dreamberries hung within easy reach.

"If I did that to the whole patch, it would be too much of a shock," she said, "So don't ask. Just this little cluster won't weaken the plant too much."

Dreamberries are a gift, too; a gift that stretches the mind beyond the Now and into things that were. A benign gift, the Dreamberry teaches the Wolfrider to learn from those who howled and died long ago, to take their sorrows and sufferings and turn them into guiding wisdom. There is a price to be paid, though. A small token, really. While dreaming on dreamberries, the Now is lost for a time, a time that isn't felt, for the passage of time is no longer noticed. Safe in a den, a Wolfrider can drift in the past while the sun rises and sets and rises again before coming back to the Now. It is best to be safe in a den.

**Pretty,** the cub commented from time to time. It was one of the few words she knew.

**Pretty,** her mother sent back. What better word for the feelings that swirled in her?

**Pretty bird.**

A long silence, the tuneless hum of thoughts without words, thoughts filled with flitting pictures from a cub's eye view. The cub's impressions of her world tapped lightly at her parent's fiery thoughts.

**Pretty stick.**

There was a feeling of increased distance between the cub and her parents. No longer a novice to the art of walking, Hilltop could move surprisingly fast. Sensing that the cub was wandering, Kestrel called to her to come closer.

**Close,** the cub echoed, and tottered away some more.

**Wrong way,** her mother sent.

**Close,**

The Now was still far away, but Kestrel sensed that her cub was still not coming any nearer. In fact, the cub seemed set on wandering farther.

**Pretty,** she sent, aimlessly. **Pretty brown.**

**Brown what?** Kestrel thought to ask.

**Pretty brown.**

The picture that accompanied the send shocked her. Kestrel jumped to her feet, tucking in the ends of her breechclout as she ran. Stone was two paces behind her, grimly sending back to his tribe.

**Humans! Anyone who can, come! It's Hilltop!**

In moments they reached a meadow where a group of human women were digging for roots. A hunting party of human men reached the meadow at the same time, drawn by the happy cries of one of the women. Hilltop was in her arms, and she was dancing joyously as the cub burbled and laughed. The men looked astonished, and came forward with looks of wonder on their brown faces.

Kestrel surged forward, but Stone held her back. "My cub!" she cried, "They have my cub! Let me go!"

"The two of us against a whole hunting party? They'd kill us both! Even if we had the wolves we'd be no match for them."

"My cub..." Kestrel was shaking in rage and terror. Stone ground his teeth and clenched his fists against the tremors that stole over him. "We can't show ourselves to them without risking the whole tribe. We'll have to trick them into letting Hilltop go."

The humans had gathered up their belongings and were leaving the meadow.

"We'll follow them, and keep sending for the tribe. Let's hope they get here before the humans get to their village. At least none of the humans are from Forest House." He led Kestrel as they skirted the edge of the meadow, and followed the humans. "The woman who has our cub was from Root House. Most of the Hunt was from Hunt House and Chief's House. I don't think they'll hurt her."

Kestrel said nothing. Her eyes were large and liquid, but her mouth was set in a hard line. She and Stone followed the humans, listening to their chatter, looking for an unguarded moment to snatch back their cub. They listened carefully, and learned much.

A rescue party of elves and wolves reached the human village at the same time the humans did. They were but a moment too late. They looked on with dismay as the gates of the palisade were shut behind the singing humans. Kestrel dug her fingers into Bear's fur and cried out her anguish into her huge wolf-friend's ruff.

"We'll get the cub," Sharpwit said, firmly, "We'll get her back if we have to burn the village around their ears."

"Don't kill them," Kestrel looked up with red-rimmed eyes. "Let's not go back to that."

"How did you two let her wander so far in the first place?" the chief demanded.

"It was my fault," Stone put in quickly, "I... I wanted Kestrel's attentions to myself. I thought a light send would be enough to keep Hilltop close."

"You thought!" Sharpwit said, scornfully. To the tribe's surprise, the chief turned swiftly and knocked the healer down with a backhanded blow. "You didn't think, that's the trouble. Now the cub is in the hands of the humans, and the whole tribe is in danger if we go after her."

Stone sat up and rubbed his bruised shoulder. "I'm sorry about Glimmerwater," he said, quietly.

Sharpwit looked away, and said nothing.

Greywolf, who had climbed into a tree to watch the humans, sent to them. **There's a big rumpus over the cub. Come and see.**

The elves scrambled into the tree to take a look. The woman who had left the meadow with Hilltop was still clinging to the cub. The human chief and three Mages were in a heated argument with an old human from Forest House. Loungers and derelicts from Tick House had come to join in the howls of protest that the Forest House humans were raising. The rest of the tribe was pushing and craning their necks to see Hilltop. The cub herself was wailing in response to a send from her mother.

"She's hungry," Kestrel said, feeling the ache of her own milk-swollen breasts, "She's hungry, and they're to busy fighting to have sense enough to feed her."

A roar from the human chief quieted the tribe, and he began to speak, making motions at the cub as he addressed his tribe. At the same time, Sharpwit spoke to his own tribe.

"We'll create a distraction outside the gates to draw some of them out. While the gates hang open, we'll rush in on wolfback. We'll have surprise on our side, but we have to be quick about it..."

"No!" Kestrel cried suddenly, "Her ears! They're going to make a human out of her!" She pointed to where the human chief was gesturing and waving a knife toward the sobbing cub.

"Let's move, then," Sharpwit ordered, and mounted his wolf.

"Wait!" a voice came from the shadows.

"Kaylamale!" the chief snapped, "Where have you been lurking?"

"I have an idea," the Glider said, dropping from a treetop, "Orelan, give me your new cloak, quickly."

"Good thinking," the pureblood said, catching on. Her cloak, bright with glass beads, was in the Glider's hand before she had finished speaking. Kaylamale turned a barrel roll as he sped high into the sky.

The humans had joined voices in a chant. While the drummer Mages pounded out the tune on their tonal drums, the women of the higher houses shuffled their feet in a solemn dance. If any of the distracted humans saw a dark form in the sky, they no doubt thought it to be a bird of some sort.

The human chief held the squalling Hilltop up to the noonday sun, singing praises to the gods. At the same moment, the dark form in the sky went into a power dive.

It happened so swiftly that no human could say for certain what had occurred. The child of the Spirits was snatched from the chief's upraised hands, and a beautiful beaded cloak fell on the outstretched arms of the woman who was to be foster mother of the child. The human tribe was shocked into silence, then a unified wail of fear rose over the palisade.

Kaylamale dropped neatly through the leaves, and put Hilltop into her mother's arms. He turned to Stone. "You once did me a favor when there was no reason to," he said, "Now I return it." Without waiting for the gratitude of the Wolfriders, Kaylamale took to the air again, and sped off through the forest.

"Now, let's get out of here before the humans get the bright idea of looking in the woods for their lost prize," Sharpwit commanded.

The tribe mounted up and rode their wolves hard until they were out of immediate reach of the humans, and well on their way back to the holt. It was a happy party that rode back to the Grandfather tree, relieved that the cub was safe, relieved that there had been no battle to fight with the humans, relieved that no blood was spilled in the rescue.

Only Kestrel looked oddly pensive. She was happy, of course, that Hilltop was back in her arms, grunting contentedly at her breast. But her joy was tainted by the last look she had taken at the human village before the Wolfriders had fled.

Of her tribe, she alone had seen the grief-stricken face of the barren woman whose gift of a Spirit-child had been suddenly and cruelly snatched away.