ke Kulamira

In her youth the wolves from the Exioptera trained with her clan, hunting with them, scouting with them, and eating and playing with them each day as the sun rose and fell. She grew curious of the visitors then, scampering under their paws when she could, asking for stories of foreign lands and foreign wolves and foreign tongues.

When the last of the Exioptera wolves left, back to their own clan, she kept some of their strange language, their strange ways. There was something compelling to the culture she'd sensed in them, something she longed to see again. So when her father, still strong in his advanced age, suggested that she might go to stay with them for a while, she leapt at the chance.

The Exioptera are famed for their hunters, and for the strength of their matriarch. There, her father says, she may learn much, and build stronger ties of friendship between their clans.

The wolf called ke Khatvana, she who carries the ancestors of many, welcomes her in. She is welcome to stay for as long as she pleases, and learn what she wishes, and then one day she will go home again. She wonders who she will be, and what name she will bear, when that day comes.

--

In the summer she speaks to the messenger, tilts her head, and goes to speak to Devasi.

"My father is old," she says, nestling by the dark feathers of the head stalker's wings. "He hasn't asked, but I think...I think I need to go home. My pack will need me, when he's gone."

Devasi has always been reserved, but she thinks they have a fondness for her even so. They nudge her affectionately with their snout, and call her "Anaïtsivisa", which is a word that doesn't translate well. But she has been with this clan long enough to understand: Devasi thinks she will be a good leader. They say, also, "Speak to Khatvana. She will understand."

She does. She goes to sit with the matriarch, the Kemasi; sacred-she, who carries the ancestors of many. In her advanced age she swells with power, fur alight with lunar dust, looking almost more spirit than flesh. Her eyes are solemn as she invites her little fosterling over, and speaks for a long time about leadership, and responsibility, and the burden of care that a matriarch has to her clan. She then, too, expects her to lead.

Finally, when the wisdom of the Kemasi falls into silence, she speaks her turn. "I don't know if I'm ready," she says, "But I think I have to go, now."

Khatvana dips her head, eyes glittering with their own fondness. "You will do well, anaïtsivisa," she says, breath misting in the cold glacier air. "You have learned much with us, drifting here and there like a pretty little cloud. Take that knowledge home; you will lead your clan honourably."

She nods, snorting with a little amusement at the description. Kulavisa mirani. Beautiful little cloud. It's not something she's been called before, but...she thinks she likes the sound of it. She says as much, and the matriarch laughs her approval.

When the moon rises, she leaves the clan. Khatvana's glittering eyes watch her as they part. "Ke Kulamira," she names her, as all her wolves look on. "Carry your clan well."

Kulamira dips her head; grief and excitement chase themselves between her ears.

It's time to go.


(Kemasi gender; matriarch, si/sini in Brevi and she/her in English. Identifies with some aspects of Brevili culture, including the Kemasi-kan gender role.)


Kulavisa- "little cloud"