The next morning he was awakened by the sound of hoofed feet approaching. He jerked awake. There, framed in the doorway was another creature. He had seen them before and knew it was a faun. He wasn't very tall, and didn't seem to be very old. The cub guessed the faun was about his own age. "What are you doing here?" the faun asked.
"It was snowing out, and I came in here to get out of it," the cub said.
"Why aren't you at home?" the faun asked.
"Don't have one any more," the cub said. "Mama abandoned me last night." Two tears slipped out as he said this. More continued to course down his face as they spoke.
"Oh," the faun said softly. "You're an orphan, huh? Me too. My parents died a few years ago from sickness." Then he asked, "What's your name?"
"Name?" the cub asked, puzzled, "what's that?'
"What did your mother call you?" the faun asked.
"Just 'you,'" he said, "Except last night when she called me 'Lo-Ahavah.'"
"That won't do for a name," the faun said. Then he looked at the cub and said, "I guess I will name you, then. I'll call you 'Avel,' which means 'Mourner.'" Then he smiled. "I'm Hayyim, by the way."
"What does that mean?" the cub, now called Avel, asked.
"'Life,'" Hayyim said. "My parents said I was their life." For a moment he looked sad himself, but then he smiled, lifted a satchel Avel hadn't noticed off his shoulder, and said, "You can stay with me, Avel, if you like. This place isn't much, but like you said it protects one from the weather."
Avel gladly accepted.