Two nights had come and gone since Fledgling and Doktor had been liberated. The small Tribal group had made a shelter in the ravine a short flight away from the Dark Salortog place. The transient Den was comfortable enough, although nothing like home. The overhang protected them from precipitation, and the four younger ones brought in bedding from the nearest grassland. There was a small pool nearby for bathing, and a freshet provided drinking water.

Eldest Mother watched the others in their coming and going. She had gone to bathe and drink the day before, but moving was such a chore she had lain quietly since daylight. Barwing had brought the offering, which she released into the One. She did not take her portion, watching the others eat until she dozed.

Mother woke slowly, confused for a moment before placing events together. The Sons and Daughter were with her, she thought a moment and remembered their names. Pethisto. Barwing. Isseum. Cyallogo. She called them over.

"I want you to return to the Den. But I have a song for you before you take wing. I shall place it in the Great Song, but first you shall hear."

She sang of the Flight to the Den of the Dark Salortog, the bravery and dedication, and the freeing of Fledgling and Doktor. Her voice wavered a bit, but she finished.

"Thank you, Eldest Mother," Isseum said, approaching with a bow. "Is it right that we should leave?"

Mother touched beak with the Daughter. "It is right. You may return home. Sing to the Tribe of this event. Third Son and Fledgling should return soon."

"Shall I bring Third Son to you?"

"No. There is time. He will come." She touched beaks with each in turn. "Safe wing to you, my Children."

Alone in the makeshift Den, she had periods of light sleep mixed with wakefullness. The morning wore into afternoon. The heavy overcast thinned as the afternoon began to wane into evening. She awakened from a final nap, feeling a little rested and more alert. She groomed a bit, humming snippets of song, composing.

Third Son and Fledgling returned before dusk. Her heart lightened as they entered. Fledgling, as always, came to her right away. She held her wing in invitation and he snuggled close. He was too big to fit entirely underneath, but she trilled softly to him, as always she had since he was a hatchling.

Third Son sat nearby. After a space, he sent a question through their link.

{Where are the others, Mother?}

{I sent them home. It is time.}

She turned her attention to Fledgling, grooming his mantle for a few minutes.

"Tell me, my Fledgling Tenionifi. I should like to know your Call Name if you have chosen."

Fledgling looked up at her, his eyes dark and gold.

"Eldest Mother, I choose with rightness. I shall be Liddleburdie."

"Liddleburdie, I hear with rightness. Here is name song for Liddleburdie." She sang his new name, pleased her voice stayed clear and strong.

"Thank you, Eldest."

Mother gently removed her wing from his back and stood, gathering her strength.

"Will you walk with me? I have another song to sing, then pebbles to place in my Story before I am done."

"We will walk with you, Mother."

Outside was cold. The snow surface had hardened with ice crystals. Their claws made a slithery crunching sound as they walked in line down the center of the ravine. It widened after a short while. Mother looked up, the brighter sky above beckoned. She stretched her wings with a perfunctory flap, wondering if she could launch and clear the cliff. She mustered her will for the effort and jumped into the air, wings beating desperately.

She did manage to get to the edge of the cliff, her talons scrabbled on the rock to hoist her over the top. She lay a few minutes, winded. Third Son and Liddleburdie joined her, grooming and trilling encouragement. She sat, sending reassurance in a wave. There was a small knoll not far away. She began walking, willing her old muscle and sinew to make the journey. It was slow going, but she made it. She stood tall, flanked by Third Son and Liddleburdie, as the sun dropped toward the horizon behind thin clouds.

"This is my final contribution to the Story. Third Son, you shall be Keeper of the Song, may your voice be bright."

So she sang, her voice rang young and full as she told of the flight, the battle, and the rescue of Fledgling and Doktor, and her hope for the future. She finished just as a ray of sun broke through at the horizon. It fell golden across them, casting their long, sharp shadows over the snow behind them. The next instant it was gone, and the world turned blue and cold. She carefully tended her stream bed one final time.

She sat on the little knoll, feeling her life force ebbing as Third Son and Liddleburdie crowded close. She heard their soft trilling surrounding her. She sent a last wave of comfort and love, sank down and closed her eyes.

Third Son and Liddleburdie fell silent. They sat with her remains until the light faded and returned to the Den in darkness. They slept next to each other as the night aged around them, bringing its quiet comfort.