The Silver Wolf:

The Silver Wolf put back his head, howled his rending anguish

And turned to lead the pack through the snow-dressed forest.

This night they held a dark purpose, and the purpose was death.

Their Master, the Huntsman, would be avenged, appallingly.

Beside the pack floated the Wraiths and Shades, moved to

Despairing rage at the loss of their Sanctified Transformer.

If there was to be no hope, there would be a long and terrible

Reckoning.  The balance was not to be shattered with impunity.

Above them winged a White Raven, its hushed wings guiding. 

She and the Wolf had been their Master’s chosen ones and lived

For their duty and his love.  They had led the hunt for those to be

Transformed, their dark, twisted souls transmuted by their Lord.

Hard-by the forest a tired and aged river sang, a glittering ribbon

Falling endlessly into a star-strewn mirror, and there-by, placidly

Menacing, squatted a small craft.  Its ugliness was an offence, an

Alien blight.  A light shone from a portal and shadows lay within.

Thus it was as the Raven lead the rancorous horde from the forest.

The Silver Wolf faltered.  A wrongness hung here.  Around, the

Impatient held still, responsive to his authority, and the Raven fell

To his strong shoulder, settling where none other would survive.

To the horde one word: “Wait”.  To the Raven: “Come”.  Silently

He slipped forward, halting at the boundary of the light.  His nose

Reached out, exploring, savouring, dismissing … and then, then

He had it!  The Huntsman, it was the Master, and something else.

Assured now he turned, led the way into the forest and called.

His voice reached out, soared up on high, sharp, cutting through

The snow-still air.  The Raven’s wings drew her aloft, attentive.

The wary Wolf waited.  His will held the horde, at least for now.

A silhouette fleetingly stole the light.  The Wolf streaked forward

As the Raven dropped on the figure, claws offering the neck a

Killers embrace; moving between time Wolf clasped it, hauling

It back to the forest edge.  It was foul and thrashed frantically.

Wolf and Raven stepped back and the creature rose, eyes fighting

To make sense of the silent horde, standing dripping malevolence.

Wolf tilted his head to one side, poised now, considering.  This

Moment and this thing might yet bring back his beloved Master!

The being stood still; rigid, silent.  Wolf detected no breathing.

Machine thing?  He pushed it lightly and it crashed to the ground.  

Dead thing?  Around him then the rage moderated in the face of 

His purposefulness.  He moved, a silent shadow within a shadow. 

The Huntsman rose stiffly and exited.  Beloved Wolf and Raven

Hurled themselves at him, then the full pack and … What Was This?  

The Shades and Wraiths held back a little, awe struck.  He

Held up his arms.  “My children, come to me, come one and all.”

Wolf and Raven watched as one by one, isolates they normally

Hunted to find, joined as a horde uniquely together in vengeance,

Came forth.  ‘You are loved and forgiven’, then a Transformer’s 

Touch and each transmuted, rose in elation, a phoenix throng.

As the Huntsman toiled Wolf observed he shuddered and swayed.

He had seen this progressively of late but his Master calmed him.

Now as he concluded and a chorus flew joyous tribute above him

He staggered sluggishly to a tree and turning, slid down to sit.

Wolf went to his Master and laid his great silver head upon his

Knee as the Raven settled on his shoulder, the pack forming a

Shielding ring.  His voice drained, his Master spoke, “Have we 

Freed them all?”  Wolf so affirmed, and gently he sighed his last.

The small shuttle landed beside the rescue pod.  Armed troops

Secured the area.  They observed the strangest thing.  The old AI,

Who had signalled for support was a model unfashioned now for 

Millennia due to their erratic and supposed mystical conduct.

The Medic ‘bot was found near a forest, its specialist circuits

Overloaded and frozen.  The fuel pack the AI called for was

Barely depleted.  This explained why they found him lifeless,

Bizarrely all energy drained from every body source, a dry husk.

It did not explain the Silver Wolf, his head upon the AI’s knee,

Or the White Raven upon his shoulder.  Nor did it explain the

Pack which warily let them approach him.  As to the myriad

Strange birds who silently eyed them, they had no clue either.

Inexplicably uneasy they left promptly, no thought to salvage AI,

The Rescue pod or broken ‘bot.  As the craft disappeared Wolf

Spoke.  Wolves and Phoenix gathered, desolate.  “There is that

Which could have saved the Master.  He gave, now we return.”

The horde turned flock comprehended things the Wolf and Raven

Did not.  He, wise Wolf, knew this and set them the task, primus

To resuscitate the immobile mechanism.  Many minds and claws 

Toiled, tireless, taking shifts to hone sciolism to enlightenment.

The cold Moons rose and fell thrice, and wings cleared snow to

Make it so, and thus it came the creature was prepared for rebirth.

Gentle, this time, they drew it to the alien machine by the lake

And placed it therein.  More tender still, their Master and Hopes.

All fell back but for one of their number who unobserved pushed

Home a circuit board.  The machine lived!  Could it now with

New, advanced programing, the very Devil to install with naught 

But claws, do right by their most loved and sanctified Huntsman?

Five times the Silver Wolf required of the pack that they hunt,

Ordering it thus for the flock and Raven also.  He did not eat and

Would not until his Master returned and the balance was restored.

Rarely did he drag his diamond-sharp eyes from the open portal.

His companions lying beside him in turns, as they had with the

Huntsman, to give him heat, and the Raven sweeping snow from

His back with her wings, he stared thus for many cycles and as

Those around thought him near to death, elatedly he leapt up!

There!  The light framed the Huntsman, standing strong and tall, 

The mending mechanism at his side.  Wolf ran as he had never

Before; he flew with his heart pounding, his joy a truly boundless 

Thing.  He leapt and as his Master held him he died, complete.

And the Huntsman wept, though AIs could not weep, and his

Tears fell, hot with grief and impotence, for this his most loved

Companion was one of the two he could not transform, for his

Soul was perfect and thus flew to touch the face of the Mystery.

Again he sat under the tree, the head of the Silver Wolf upon his 
Knee, the White Raven upon his shoulder and his old and new 
Companions, silent around him, and as he stroked the still warm 
Wolf he contemplated the void in his heart, and purposelessness.

The White Raven:

Under the snow brushed trees, nearby a frost hushed lake, the

White Raven listened to the river’s prayer as it slid agelessly

On its hard-won course.  Perched upon the cold shoulder of the

Huntsman she stared down on the cooling corpse of her partner

And True-Friend, the White Wolf.  She watched her Master’s

Hand stroke that which did not feel, and felt her heart creaking

With the agony of her anguish.  A miserly wind scratched at her 

Soul as the snow pivoted and pirouetted, oblivious to the despair

That lay palpably, a blanket of ice overlaying a merciless world.

It would be so easy for them to all stay thus, to let cold finish it.

A loved voice curled round her mind.  The Silver Wolf! “I am

Here but I am gone.  Now cannot be thy time my True-Friend. 

Thou needs must lead my pack and hold our Master in thy heart, 

For he is lost.  I need say no more, for thou knowest where thou 

Needs must go.  Do thee it now, my True-Friend, go and lead!”

Slowly she unfurled her numbed wings and unwound her body.

Then thus she spake, “We cannot sit thus and die.  There is

Work that needs be done.  Rise now from thy cold beds, thou

Who he led, and breach this hard Earth-skin, that we may place

His corpse safe within our Mother.  Wouldst thou leave him 

Thus for carrion?”  The pack, obedient, rose and, turn by turn,

Dug a final bed for their leader as the phoenix flock scraped

And scoured for moss, that his bones would in comfort rest. 

When all was done as it should be done the Huntsman arose,

His most Faithful Servant in his arms.  He held him thus as each 

Wolf came in ordered rank and licked his cold face their last.  

Their farewells complete the Master lowered him tenderly.  

Again his acid tears fell upon the silver fur.  No words were 

Spoken, for none there could find to express their heart-loss, 

Their soul-loss, their little death.  Thus the Silver Wolf was 

Placed and covered in a screaming and tortured silence but as 

The Huntsman rose from his knees, then it broke; a dam burst 

Heads rose; the pack howled their grief, their loss and agony.

And as they cried their last, the White Raven then skyward rose 

And ordered, “Come”, and they did, and the loved voice within

Asked, “To the Grey Craft?”  ‘Yea”, she retorted, “It is time.”

The Moons rose and fell, fell and rose, and still they followed,

Through snow clad woodlands, across barren winter prairies, 

Enraged, spirit-whipping rivers, serene and modest streams; 

Skirting the dead-lands with their misshapen, tortured folks,

Always behind the path of the cruel-cold moons and pallid sun.

 

No questions were asked so no explanation was given.  They

Hunted in a desultory manner because she bade them thus, and

As the cycles passed they ate a little more.  Then it was she saw

The Soaring Mount.  There the infested Grey Craft lay.  There 

Too the Huntsman’s past lay, his future and the greatest of Evil.  

The Silver Wolf and the White Raven had left that place long 

And long ago, seeking with their Master the souls of those who 

Had been driven out by their companions and left here to die.

Compassion drove the trio forth with their duty, but practical 

Too, they knew the Dream could not be founded with the misery 

And unexpected threat of the transformed outcasts, the enraged 

Wraiths and Shades fouling the new nest.  That work was done; 

She threw her mind away from dark thoughts of the dread cost. 

Now was time for the Huntsman to become both the Merciless 

Destroyer, and Transformer to Others, to ones he had forgot!

The climb was long, arduous, peril cloaked and the cold a fish-

Wife’s knife pitilessly scouring their lungs.  Still, under the iron 

Will of the Raven they prevailed, though The Huntsman’s own 

Movements slowed to trudge, the nearer their destination they 

Drew, and the White Raven needs must harry him endlessly.  

The Pack and flock, obedient to her will, pushed on regardless. 

The reluctant and recalcitrant Huntsman was caught in the flow. 

Thus it was that the oddly unusual but tight band of comrades 

Arrived at last, fatigued but alert, emerging from an unnatural   

Narrow, ill-lit, winding, foul smelling and coldly inhospitable  

Umbilical chord  into a flat floored womb, a cavern therein to 

Behold the unhatched egg that was the Grey Craft.  So large it 

Was, and so alien the stench, the wolves first took it to be water 

Smoothened, an interior hillock, arid and fashioned from some 

Foul smelling rock it stood within, or ill-placed alien ordure. 

The Huntsman stopped, stared, a look of confused consternation 

Clouding his eyes.  He sat, hunched, upon the ground, rocking 

Slightly, staring at the Craft, remembering as the Raven had 

Hoped.  She, the pack, the Flock waited, expectant but patient. 

Slowly the Huntsman rose, his eyes quartering, searching for his 

Companion.  The White Raven landed upon his shoulder and

Bade the flock and the pack return to the valleys and hunt.  She

Told them true, she would call them again to the Huntsman’s 

Service if he so needed but absolved them now of any further 

Duty.  Those heard, this time choosing not to obey.  They would 

Wait, turn taking to return to the valley for hunting.  She it was

Who had picked up the holy pallium of the Silver Wolf.  It was 

Not Her choice to lay it down.  Lead she had, and lead she must!

The Huntsman strode now, with purpose.  As he approached

The White Raven hurled her mind back to their departure, the 

Three of them, a tight Trinity, setting out with a holy mission.

As they neared, the craft shimmered briefly, to the wolves eyes, 

Like the Sun upon an iced lake.  The Raven watched the entry

Portal appear, a harsh blue light shining forth in greeting.  She

Held close her breath for several long, fearful moments and then

Exhaled as the Master continued forward and they entered in.

She had fulfilled that task which was required of her and she felt

The warm support of the Silver Wolf hold hard against her fear 

And stuttering resolve as they were clutched by some unknown 

Force, gentle but iron-strong, and deposited in front of that 

Which she feared most in all the wide, crazed and cruel World. 

It lounged, huge, upon a vast throne made of the bones of many 

Of the Grey Craft’s creators.  Its reek was an Offence to her and 

She had need to hack for breath.  A sharp clawed tentacle lashed 

Out at her and it was only the Wolf’s strength which held her 

Still, the Tormentor stopping a whisper’s width from her neck.  

It made the rasping gurgle it gave when amused and turned its 

Undivided, foul and callously uncaring attention to her Master.

The White Raven watched in quiet terror but with heightened

Awareness to discern the Alien’s intention with regard to the 

Huntsman.  Did her Master remember enough?  Unexpectedly 

The creature roared, “Your madcap scheme took far too long,” 

Many tentacles flying out simultaneously.  The White Raven’s 

Wings powered her forward.  Her talons locked hard on the 

Breather pipe and tore it from the monster’s face. It howled 

Now, in berserker rage most absolute, and as it flailed for the 

Pipe she thrust herself forward with a strength born of rage of 

Her own, and in a moment of savage triumph tore from the 

Creature its eyes.  The breather Lay still clear of its grasp as it 

Lurched to its feet and thrashed around in terror, drowning. 

The White Raven cried out then with ecstatic exultation as her 

Master appeared to regain his memory of this ancient Evil.  She 

Wept her love as he rolled forward with his old quickness and 

Agility, somersaulted under the creatures vast, trunk-like legs 

And shattered the machine which kept this, the most evil and 

Ruler of the alien horde alive.  The creature stumbled blindly 

Forward to where the Huntsman had stood and as death finally 

Gripped him and he crashed floor-ward, like a felled tree, a 

Claw caught the White Raven across the chest, eviscerating her. 

She too fell to the floor where seconds later the Huntsman 

Scooped her up and held her.  She felt no pain; warmed, she 

Was, with relief to see her Master once more as he had been 

When she first loved him; saw now the old purpose in his eyes, 

And also the horror and the pain.  She called out her final song 

Of love to Him and then felt herself slipping from his tender 

Grasp, wings stretching and the White Wolf giving welcome.

The Huntsman surveyed the scene and then, still gently cradling 

The other soul he could not transform, returned to the portal

And stepped out to the waiting flock and pack.  Behind him he

Willed the portal closed and sat amongst his companions and

Once more he wept as they dug her bed within the Mother, and

Phoenix flock meshed therein a bed of moss.  As he laid her to

Rest in that place, he knew she was with the Silver Wolf and

Prayed to the Unknown and Unknowable one that he would
Join them when his labours were complete and balance restored. 

The Huntsman:

He stood before her small grave, such an insignificant mound 
Already in the driving snow lost, heart heavy with sorrow at her 
Parting, guilt at her death and empty aching for his True-Friends 
For so long and so long, the Silver Wolf and White Raven.  To 
Their deaths give meaning he needs must the task finish which
He had dis-remembered, from himself screening it in some unlit 
Corner of his mind where resided horror stories.  Now lay it in 
All its dreadfulness, by his focussed consciousness, bright lit. 

He looked round at his expectant companions, the Wolf Pack 
And the Great Flock of Phoenixes.  He wanted not for further 
Travail for them but they, in their fidelity refused to do other 
Than with him remain, and in this great task participate, for was 
It not to him they in the first place owed their lives?  And there 
Must retribution be, too, for the Wolf and the Raven.  So it was 
He cast his mind out, theirs to touch, and in images and known 
Words for them depicted the interior of the Grey Craft and gave 
Them introduction to the presences alien which lay therein and 
Needs must be trampled or ejected.  He gave, too, their stench.
Feeling their horror, it was good.  They needs must vigilant be. 

He turned then and the craft approached, the Black Wolf and the 
Rainbow Phoenix by his side, his other companions following.  
He the portal signalled to reopen and entered.  As the Wolf Pack 
And the Phoenix flock one way went, following their imprinted 
Maps to where those who needed protection lay at rest, he and 
His two comrades, meanwhile, taken were by a firm but gentle
Force and returned they to that place where the Raven expired. 

The creature sprawled was, pathetic, upon the floor, the throne 
Of bones on its side, knocked there by its thrashing death-throes.  
The Huntsman some tentacles kicked aside and looked at the 
Screen the alien had accessed.  They had learned not how to
Make the Grey Craft functional, and knew they not which of the 
Sleepers could so do.  Even so they had several woken, only to 
Them see die in minutes of their awakening, for their grasp on 
Cryogenic thawing was limited.  The Huntsman had professed 
Ignorance in all things, technical and medical.  They knew not 
That his mind was the lone aware, other than his True-Friends; 
That he it was who had steered the Craft through the cold dark.
Thought they, too, that this place was that from where the Grey 
Craft was controlled.  He did not on their error correct them, and
Surreptitious sealed the main bridge from the subsidiary control. 

He arrival at this planet recalled, harsh and used once only, and 
That as a penal colony.  Those incarcerated, long dead were.  He 
Had thought not to find other sentient beings until a weak call of 
Distress he received from the planet’s surface.  He put down the 
Grey Craft and took a shuttle to locate they who called and them 
Assist.  A ship he found; greatly damaged it was, and within the  
Alien creatures were, whose life support was on the verge of 
Total collapse, so said they.  Thus it was he them entry allowed 
To the shuttle, each in armoured suits concealed as though for 
Space, and to the Grey Craft returned, where machines he set to 
Mobile contrivances make which to them gave the air that was 
Their necessity.  It was then their true nature foul came forth and
Took they control, both of the Grey Craft and his True-Friends, 
The Silver Wolf and the White Raven.  He knew not what to do.

Thus time to steal to ponder all, and his enemy to learn, he made 
Service for them, feigning fear, respect and always his ignorance 
In things technical.  Absolute was their arrogance and contempt 
And though a crew, they each the others loathed and for position 
And power jostled, through betrayal and alliances ever-shifting. 
Murder straightforward, too, they oft would commit, and for 
Pleasure supreme aimed they to achieve extended humiliation 
For their victims, and agony prolonged.  It was a nightmare now 
In which he dwelled, one that appeared a labyrinth with no end.

As the revulsion too much became, he needs must get out from 
Under its weight, he and his True-Friends, and thus he them told 
Of sensor data which the traces of intelligent life was showing.  
He knew not what they were but to his persecutors said he needs 
Must go and find them out, for they might be salvation, knowing 
That which he did not for waking the Grey Craft.  Persuaded as 
They were, glimpsing a chance this inhospitable place to leave, 
They agreed, and also to allow his True-Friends to him support. 

Thus it was that he left behind the horror world for endeavours  
New, and soon it was to learn of the Wraiths and Shades, a form 
This planet’s peculiarity of Gaia visited upon those dead from
The ancient penal colony, knowing not how otherwise it could 
Be done to keep them in some form alive.  Here they had lived 
Twixt Heaven and Hell, half alive and half dead.  Time it was 
Which became their great tormentor, time to visit and revisit all 
That had from them poured in their previous forms; the vile, the 
Profane, the murders and corruption, the swamps in which they 
Had their mark made.  Each from the others fled, their inner 
Disgust no room for companions leaving.  Too, never they had 
Had those in their lives they could trust before; it would be no 
Different now.  It was with these derelict souls, by chance, or by 
Some hidden design, the Huntsman his transforming skill found.

Soon it was that the Silver Wolf had a pack to lead, gathered to 
Aid them in the task of hunting down these reclusive, tortured 
Souls.  The White Raven high and wide could venture and found 
Within an uncanny skill in their presence sensing.  It but needed 
Then the pack to them gather in, one by one, to the touch receive 
Of the Huntsman, that transforming contact that each Shade and 
Wraith with a terror received, which turned most quick to one of 
A joy most extraordinary, changing, as they did, to that quite 
Odd and most hopeful of beings, the Phoenix.  And slow it was,
But sure, these creatures strange, fell to the duty of finding, too, 
Those who Wraiths and Shades continued to be, and spread the 
Word to the untrusting, slowly, most slowly, them convincing 
That the Huntsman was their Sanctified Transformer, would 
They but trust and him seek.  T’is no surprise that the task was 
Long, and in the doing of it the Huntsman from his mind pushed 
Those horrors he had left behind.  Thus it was that his power 
Pack depleted became and he needs must send off a distress call,
Answered at the last by a passing deep space freighter dropping 
A Medibot capsule, in truth almost too late, and due to this, his 
Wilful stupidity and self-inflicted amnesia, he had first lost his 
Beloved True-Friend the Silver Wolf and the White Raven also.

As from his sad memories he returned he was forced so to ask 
Himself, had these alien beings somewhat marred his mind? 
Dulling too his senses? For now it was that the solution to their 
Odious presence was a thing quite simple.  Perhaps, though, his
Initial program, designed to most honour life, had him betrayed.  
It was the case no longer!  Identifying those places where the 
Creatures themselves had chose, secure from the attack of their
Companions, he them sealed in.  T’was soon they noticed and to
The doors responded with violence extreme, achieving naught 
But increased anger and frustration.  Their displays all dead they 
Sat and fumed, for the attack preparing of one of their own.  
The Huntsman nodded, satisfied, and to the central bridge went he. 

Once there, the doors he sealed, ever pondering if there were 
Some of the creatures he’d missed.  He mind talked with those, 
His companions, outlining in brief his plan; understood, it was 
By the Phoenixes but the Wolves, they had just to obey his order 
In faith.  Thus it was, donned he his interface and meshed once 
More with that mind, strange and complex, it being the Centre. 
With but a thought he sealed off each chamber, room, corridor 
And facility within the Grey Craft, and then it was he made the 
Jump ‘Between’, where momentarily time and space twisted and 
Settled then once again, ship’s systems for space operational, the 
Screens showing now down below, the planet, less forbidding, 
More a place of simple beauty and of potential endless to those 
Who would treat with it in love, gratitude, care and true grace. 

He sighed, the future hopes returning to his mind, recalling the 
Anticipation wondrous when first this scene had to him come.  
He much changed was now, though, but his original mission he 
Could still fulfil.  He his companions mind checked, the wolves
A touch of reassurance needing, the Phoenixes now at their sides   
Toiling to with their presence calm.  The Huntsman, his mind to 
The interface returned.  The monsters all, impotent remained, 
And raging; some too he found in corridors trapped and other 
Places on the Grey Craft.  Each position marked was and then he 
Turned elsewhere his mind.  A few moments scan the location 
Identified, of that which had so bad polluted his days and nights, 
The wrecked ship in which the nightmares had arrived. A Laser 
Strike, pinpoint accurate, all innocents to avoid, removed it and 
Any evidence it had ever in that place lain, a steaming hole now 
There, with every prospect that within a few cycles a calm lake 
Would be, and in time to their host, the planet’s Gaia, return. 

Thus placed, now it was that he proceeded, with no pleasure, to
His simple plan complete.  The Grey Craft’s mind had in each 
And every case plotted a route most short from each of the fetid 
Aliens to the nearest airlock.  At the Huntsman’s thought, the 
Sealed doors made to open were, and did the airlocks likewise.
Not long, it was, before all the dross was into space ejected, the
Nightmare’s end on screens showing.  He looked not at those 
Who died, returning the doors and locks to normal; then once 
Again the Grey Craft twisted time and space and returned to its 
Original place of security upon the planet’s surface.  It here was, 
Once more, by accident or by design, that the Huntsman’s skill
As transformer adapted, his undertaking easy feasible becoming.

Stood he before the Grey Craft, his companions, the Wolves and 
The Phoenixes, about him now standing.  By chance perhaps, it 
Was that he the Rainbow Phoenix touched, and the planet’s Gaia 
The full transformation permitted, sensing this being’s soul was 
Both repentant and full of grace.  There, transformed and most 
Struck by astonishment, a naked human stood where a Phoenix 
Once had been.  The Huntsman, comprehending, held out again 
His arms in welcome and his children called, each one receiving 
His blessed and transforming touch, them returning to the body 
They before had worn, now vigorous each, and of soul cleansed.  
Within the Grey Craft raiment soon was found, not to envelop 
Body shame, their souls so grace filled, inured now from such, 
But just for the uncaring and still harsh elements; to survive as 
The planet, though cold and still snow bedecked, slow but sure 
Moved the Circle on to the spring and times of growth and hope.

So it was the Huntsman had now at hand a team, new and loyal, 
With which to commence the mission of awakenings.  Learned 
They, with remarkable speed, the skills and techniques for the
Tasks.  As they commenced, so the Huntsman had the Grey 
Craft move once more, now to a site more hospitable, there to 
Start construction of animal dwellings, there to house those few 
Woken, base stock, to be joined at the last by vat-grown clones.
Simultaneous, it was, that ‘bots began the land to plough and 
For trial growths prepare.  Once success was sure, faster could 
Be the awakening of the sleepers and the growings in the vats.

As winter slept, and spring enticed back to life the earth and 
Plants, the Huntsman knew the work now secure was; the 
Colony would grow, the beings here, old and new, would thrive.  
Thus in the darkness one eve, he the Grey Craft left, his final 
Directives forbidding it to him track, and to inculcate love of 
Wolves within this community new.  Then, it was, he and his 
Wolf pack journeyed on, back to where the White Raven in the 
Still cold earth lay.  With tender care, it was, that he uncovered 
Her now unneeded body, placing it careful in a pack which he 
Safe carried upon his back.  Down the mountain one last time 
They hiked and, through cycles many, the route back followed 
Upon which they had first come.  T’was easier now, the weather 
Turning kind, the ground soft, and hunting simple for the pack.  

Good time they made, and then arrived at last back to where lay 
The Silver Wolf.  The Huntsman knelt as his companions stood 
Watch, as was their wont, him encircling and protecting.  Soon 
It was he had a final place of rest for the corpse of his True-
Friend the White Raven, his other True-Friend the Silver Wolf,
Beside, though it mattered not to her or to him that their corpses 
Now lay in proximity, for they elsewhere were, and waiting.  To 
The Huntsman, though, it mattered, and with this job done to his 
Satisfaction he to the little capsule returned, there to activate the 
Medic bot and have it his power pack discharge.  When it was as 
Almost done, he the machine deactivated and set the capsule to 
Gentle meltdown.  His task completed, returned he to the graves
Of his True-Friends and sat once more, his back against the tree.  
He mind called to his companions, the wolves, and told them his 
Work was done and he would leaving be.  They the cycle of life 
Understood and his need to go.  He told them then that the Black 
Wolf would them lead well.  Then it was he gave them one final 
Caress, one by one as they came to him, and implanted in each a 
Thought, one so filled, it was, with love that they, for e’er after,  
Would pass it on through the generations and live in unanimity.  

His work completed, his eyes he closed, feeling hard the tree at 
His back and upon his face, soft the breeze.  Sensation unhurried 
Left him and he in the distance his True-friends saw, the Silver 
Wolf and the White Raven, from the light coming.  As nearer 
Still came they he held out his arms and at the last the Wolf 
Leapt, joyous into them and the Raven on his shoulder landed,
The Three reunited, their unity the infinite Mystery to explore.  

The Black Wolf commenced the digging, and turn-taking they 
Then a final home for the Huntsman’s shell had made, twixt 
That of the Silver Wolf and White Raven, which was fitting.  
Each of his old companions then came and bid him farewell and 
Joy with his True-Friends in the Far-Lands.  Once done, the Black 
Wolf threw back his head and led the pack in a song of Farewell.  
That done, he turned and them to the shaded forest led back.