THIS PACK OF WOLVES

A story of a lobo and a path.

About 48 moons ago a lobo went in search of help from a great wound to his heart.
He found a place where empathy and sincerity and love abounded.
He read and put in a few words in the beginning.
Then he began traveling what another had called a long hard path.
(Jimmy Hotsocks) said that in one of the guestbooks. He was right.
The path to helping others with wounded hearts and yay souls.
What he tried to do was good. He helped, he searched the world for
places he could glean information. He had a mate who quickly realized
that what he was trying to do was a good thing. Never once to this
day did she chastise or ridicule his love for helping others.
He never did tell his tale of sorrow to the others who came to
the room of hurting hearts. His wait was for them he loved above
who lay in wait for him to come to them. When asked what his story
was his reply was almost always the same. “I come to you with no
story to tell except for the loss of a great silverwolf named
silver king aka pooky. What happened with pooky many asked,
once again his reply was the same. I come not for me but for you.

He built places of love and memories for others. He asked not for
anything in return but one very simple thing. Aprreciate what
I have tried to do to help you through your dark hours when the
“Waves of Sorrow” burden you. Go to the place I built for you.
Peruse the words, love your pictures. One day I have great hopes
you will “Cry for Happy Tears”. Now the lobo ages slowly,
he has no energy much left for the work he set out to do for others.
He tires easily and trys to rest, but thoughts of others who hurt
run through mind of the one who cares. He has been hurt badly in
his heart at the injustices done to him and to others he loves.
He finds it hard to sleep soundly now, but he does rest.
What else can I do he asks himself? How can I hurt one without
hurting others?

He had been told by the rune stones of another of a rebirth,
but knew not what this might be. He knew in the den of the wolf
the fighting and bickering cries of the siblings was not a good thing,
but he found it hard to be strong, for his was a gentle and mostly kind soul.
He began to sense the end of his kind and thought,
“why not just go back to the room that helped me the most and do what
I did that helped me. Help others more if he still could.
So he tried and found it was not quite the same.
Many new ones just wanted to talk to other new ones,
And he thought to himself, this is good for they help each other.
but once In a while it seemed his efforts were not in vain.
Many flocked to the den of the wolf and became as one.
Then a great rift began to form, one that he thought he no longer
build a bridge across.
he felt the tremor, he sensed the thunder to come
He was hurt, he was amazed, he was stunned
what of the promise he asked those who wait?
do some forget so easily?
He began to feel like the lobo, (the outcast}. once again
He talked to them who wait but could not find an answer.
He felt he could not just run or turn away from the love and caring
that had accidently been formed. His mind and his heart were torn.
What to do. Then one day he came to a fork in the path.
The path turned to the right, to the left, and his path went forward.
He stopped he lingered at the forks wondering which one to take.
He took the path to the right and it led to mountains that he so loved.
He found there much peace. He heard two birds in timber talking.
He heard the lovesong of a waterfall. He heard it whisper through the trees,
this lovesong born upon the breeze.
He stayed, but alone he found himself with but many little creatures
running hither and thither through the great trees.
It seemed he could not see the forest for the trees were in the way.
He began to feel lonely and the peace was not enough just yet so
he decided to go back and try the other fork.

This one came to a beautiful still peaceful lake with fish abounding.
Big delicious fruit trees of every kind everywhere.
He built a small boat and thought of living there forever.
He loved it,
he enjoyed it but there were none of his kind there.
Once more he began to grow lonely and decided to go back and walk
the forward path once more. Back to the ones he so cared for.
But will I endure more of the same, only to see the ones I try to
help just hurt each other? Will I hurt some by trying not to hurt
others. Before he began to walk he looked at what he was leaving
to the right and to the left of him. Nothing but peace,
but no one to share the pain and sorrow of years of caring.
So he began to walk forward once again, even knowing not what
he might find at the end of this path he walked once more.

As he stumbled between two great boulders on either side of the path,
he saw the path got very wide and smooth.
Up over a small hill he stopped and stared in amazement.
Off in the distance he saw a beautiful shimmering blue surrounded
by the most beautiful green he had ever seen.
This then too must be peace, but still he was alone.
Then he looked back down at the path and saw many paw prints in the sand.
He looked behind and saw none, all were on either side of him as
if walking with him. Then they appeared as if they had been resting
and lined up on both sides of him and just looked at him and waited.
A grin appeared on his old grayed jaws.
He started forward once more and as if one they all stepped forward
with him and he knew he had come back home. He wondered what lay
ahead at the beautiful spot way off down the path. He cared not,
for he was with his own again.

 

  • RETURN TO WOLFDEN

    May the Gentle Wind of Peace be the wind that fills
    the sails of your ship of Dreams. *LoboWolf

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