Salem

This pup won't make it, thought the lone she-wolf. Small. Sickly. Too weak to even attempt to squirm towards her belly to feed.  "You poor thing," said his mother. "Poor little whelp. There's not enough life in you to even try, is there?" She nudged the pup with her nose. He didn't move. Didn't react. He never made a sound. A pang of grief shot through her like a bolt of lightning and she whined.

He wouldn't be the first pup she's lost. She'd had many litters over the years, and sometimes pups just failed to thrive. It was still tragic, nonetheless. "Maybe I'm too old," she thought aloud. "Maybe I'm not good for carrying pups anymore..." She had known this might be her last litter. But there had been many things working against her this time, not just age. She shifted closer to her pup, curling protectively around his tiny body. "I'm sorry, little one," she said regretfully.

With her pup gathered close, she lifted her head towards the den entrance. Den, she thought with a snort. It wasn't nearly cozy enough to be a proper den, but she'd had little choice. Her pack had shrunk to just a few wolves in the last year. The weather had been terrible and food had become scarce. Pack members had left one by one in search of more fruitful territories. It was hard enough to come by food, but it was harder still to maintain territory borders with their meager numbers.

They'd lost all the dens suitable for pup-rearing. This stony cave with its wide, yawning entrance was all she could find when it came time to give birth. At least the view is nice, she thought bitterly.

She had an unobstructed view of the horizon. The sun was setting. The sky grew darker. Pinks and oranges gave way to the indigo night. She watched the stars appear in stoic silence, too aware of her pup's too-cold body pressed against her.

A streak of light darted across the sky. A wishing star. I want my last pup to be okay. She thought sadly.

The quiet that follows was disturbed by furiously flapping wings suddenly swooping into the cave. A ball of ruffled, black feathers landed mere feet away. The wolf shot to her feet with a startle yip. A raven? No, it was smaller than that. A crow, then.

It shook out it's feathers and tilted it's head this way and that, beady eyes locking onto the wolf and then shifting to the pup that lay unaware at her feet. It hopped closer, just once and the wolf snarled. It fluttered its wings, tipping its head and let out a caw.

That's when the wolf finally noticed the gleaming crystal pinched in its beak. It gave off a subtle light, illuminating some of the cave.

"What is that?" asked the wolf. The crow regarded her for a moment and the cawed once more. It seemed to nod at her pup with the crystal. She eyed the mysterious bird, considering. She'd never seen a crystal like that. What would happen if it was given to her pup?

She turned her head to look at her baby. Her poor, doomed pup. What harm was there, really? The pup's life was already fading, this little crow couldn't make anything worse.

The wolf stepped away, looking back at the bird. "Fine. Do whatever it is you're going to do."

The crow blinked at her and hopped over to the pup. It leaned down and pressed the little light to the pup's clear, black forehead.

A blinding light overtook the den.

As it faded, the wolf noticed a mark on the pups head. A white blaze that started at his nose and traveled up towards his ears like a wishing star.

The pup shifted, paws twitching weakly lifting his head, and began to cry.