For the first time in many weeks, Moro was happy. Her pups were safe. She had plenty of food. The winter sun had just enough strength to warm her fur. Life was good. Of course, it couldn't last. The sound of clumsy human footfalls reached her and she lifted her head, listening. One human? No, two, both males. One was speaking, his words rough and agitated.

"-a naked girl! This young child, playing with two wolf cubs!"

"Perhaps it was one of the apes?" suggested the second human.

"No! This was a human child! I got a good look before they saw me and fled."

"Strange. I can't imagine wolves raising a human child. Wonder how the poor girl will survive. It's bound to be a hard winter, with all this early snow." The voices moved on. Moro considered pursuing them, then decided against it. Humans, for the most part, were only mild nuisances. Besides, they had given her something to think about. The last two winters, she had kept San in the cave to protect her from the cold. This year, she knew that even her best efforts would not keep her human pup inside. San had become as wild and adventurous as both her brothers put together. Which brought up the problem of clothes.

Moro growled irritably. She had wanted to keep her daughter as wolflike as possible, but without any protection from the cold, San would never survive. Moro stood and sniffed, testing the air for any important scents. This, she reasoned, should be a simple matter to resolve. She would kill a human and take its clothes for San. The wolf god trotted off, following the scent of the two humans.

A week later, Moro began to get frustrated. San had been extremely reluctant to try on the shirt she had brought back. When she finally put it on, the garment had been so large that it had simply slipped off and tangled her, much to the amusement of her brothers. The only option, Moro now saw, was to take the clothes of a human San's age.

Unfortunately, humans rarely brought their cubs into the forest. Moro lowered her head to lap water from the river, but then tensed as a new smell reached her. A soft, milky, definitely human scent… could she have gotten lucky at last?

Moro pricked her ears forward. Yes, there was the unmistakable sound of a child's laughter. The wolf god moved, silent and pale as a ghost, toward the sound. This, she reflected, was almost too easy. One human pup and its mother. The males occasionally presented something of a challenge, at least. Moro paused and peered through the bushes at her prey. The human female had her back turned, gathering some late mushrooms. The child, perhaps a year or two older than San, was busy playing with some brightly colored pebbles.

Moro crouched, feeling her muscles contract in preparation for the leap. A pounce and a quick snap of her jaws, that was all it would take. The child stumbled and fell, scraping its knee on a rocky outcropping. After a moment's shocked silence, it began to wail. The adult human turned at once and picked it up, whispering soothing words. Moro remained frozen, unable to spring. She could not kill this human. How often had she seen San fall and injure herself? How often had she rushed to comfort her? Moro remembered the pain of losing her mate. The thought of losing one of her pups was unimaginable. So how could she inflict that pain on this human mother? Furious with herself, with her soft-hearted unwolflike thinking, Moro let out an involuntary growl. The human female stiffened, staring in her direction. With a sudden flash of inspiration, Moro knew what to do. She stood, showing her fangs in a warning gesture.

"Do not run, human. I could chase you down in an instant if I wanted to," she growled. As she had expected, the human failed to take her advice. After a half second of hesitation, she turned and fled. Moro sprang directly over the human, landing in front of her. The human skidded to a halt and tried to run the other way. Again, Moro blocked her path.

"Listen to me," she said. "And you can save both yourself and your pup." The human froze, her gaze flashing from side to side as she searched for a way out. The child, meanwhile, stared at Moro with a fascination that reminded her far too much of San.

"Doggy!" it said happily. Moro ignored the insult.

"Human," she said. "I need the clothes of your child." The human stared at her. Moro often had difficulty reading human expressions, but right now the human's face clearly conveyed confusion and fear.

"What?" asked the human timidly. "I don't understand."

"I am speaking your language," Moro snapped, her patience starting to wear thin. It wasn't easy to learn either, she thought, before repeating "I need the clothes of your child." Even as she spoke, she was aware of how ridiculous the request sounded. This knowledge did not improve her temper. Perhaps the human sensed this, because rather than asking more questions she began removing her child's clothes. It-he, Moro corrected herself, the scent was male-squirmed in half-hearted protest. Most of his attention remained fixed on the wolf god. The female human finished her task and threw the clothes in Moro's direction. She caught them easily and was about to leave when the human said "Wolf god?" Moro paused. The human now looked very nervous, but she took a deep breath and asked "Is it true that you have a human child? Is that why you need these clothes?"

"My daughter is a wolf," Moro said coldly. "I will allow no one to call her human." The human hesitated before saying "Perhaps I could give you some clothes for when she gets older. My own daughter died recently and her clothes … well, they're just a painful reminder to me now." Moro studied the human. Did she really want to get rid of a bad memory, or was it some sort of trick? Was she feeling pity for San? Perhaps she simply hoped to earn the favor of a god.

"If you choose to do so," Moro said at last, "You can leave the clothes here. I will come back in a few days for them." She turned again to leave, then, impulsively, said "I thank you, human."

Back at the cave, Moro's battle of wills with San began again.

"Put them on," Moro ordered.

"No," San replied stubbornly.

"Do you want to go outside with your brothers?"

"Yes."

"Then put the clothes on."

"But they smell like humans!"

"Yes, and the sooner you put them on, the sooner they'll start to smell like wolves." San glared resentfully at the pile of clothes.

"Do I have to?"

"Yes," Moro answered firmly. "Now." That was easier said than done. San, with a continuous stream of patient suggestions from Moro, struggled with the clothing for half an hour. The arrival of her brothers complicated matters even further. They were full of questions ("Why are you wearing clothes?!") and comments ("They almost make you look human!") that did nothing but annoy and distract San. At last, the task was done. Moro examined her daughter critically. She looked sulky, but the clothes seemed to fit well enough.

"Can I go outside now?" San demanded impatiently.

"Yes," Moro answered.

"Race you!" San's younger brother called as he darted outside.

"No fair! You had a head start!" San leapt onto her older brother's back and the two of them raced out of the cave. Moro lay down and stretched drowsily. After the events of the day, she felt she deserved a little rest. Her thoughts drifted to the human she had spoken to. Perhaps it was a trap, but the more she thought about it, the more convinced she became that the human had simply recognized her as a fellow mother trying to care for her child. After all, she had felt the same empathy watching the human comfort her son. It surprised her, how similar they both were when it came to caring for their children. After she had seen San's human parents abandon her, she had assumed that all humans cared nothing for their pups, that they would leave them to die without a second thought. Now, she thought that perhaps there was some good in humans after all. An undignified yelp cut into Moro's thoughts.

"Mother! San bit me!" Moro sighed and stood up. The task of motherhood was neverending.