Moro slipped between the dark trees, her snowy fur gleaming under the hot sun. Long emerald grasses swished around her paws. When necessary, she could walk so softly that the grass blades would not even tremble. But today was not a day for stealth. The humans were growing bolder. She doubted any of them could make it as far as her cave, but there was no denying that the humans had begun to advance further into the forest than they had ever dared to before.
Moro paused to sniff a clump of dark green ferns. The different layers of odors told her that a boar had passed by recently; before that a rabbit had crouched here, and before that- the fur along Moro's back rose like the spines of a dragon. A human had come here. The scent was only hours old. Could the human still be somewhere in the forest? Moro began to track the scent, picking up new details as she went. The human was an adult male, fairly large, who ventured into the forest often, judging by the rich smells of earth and plants that clung to him. Moro displayed her fangs in a silent growl.
In the old days, humans treated the gods and the lands with the proper respect. They understood the power contained in trees and animals, in every aspect of nature. Now, reverence had turned to contempt, worship had become hatred. Humans no longer respected the gods, so the gods no longer helped humans.
The scent of the human grew stronger, and she slowed, making each footstep silent and deliberate. Whatever this human intended to do, he had no right to come so close to her den. Some sixth sense stopped her, forcing her to listen. There! A voice that was heart-wrenching in its familiarity- and fear.
"Mother! Help me!"
San! Moro was running before her daughter's cry had faded. A hot, raging love burned through her veins, the love of a mother who's child is in danger. Anyone who dared to touch her pups, whether they were a boar, a wolf, a human, or the Deer God himself, would pay for it in blood. The smell of the human she had been tracking grew stronger, as did San's scent. A boulder blocked her path. She leapt over it without breaking stride.
"San!" she howled.
"Mother!" Moro ran harder. The human could not be much farther ahead. She crashed through a tangle of thorny bushes and there, directly in front of her, she saw her quarry. The human had San pinned under one arm, while with his other hand he struggled to keep her clawing fingers away from his face. Later, Moro would realize that the human had probably thought he was saving San, protecting a seemingly lost child from the dangers of the forest. At that moment though, all such thoughts were drowned in a sea of pure maternal instinct. Moro lunged. The human dropped San and tried to run. Moro's fangs clamped around his torso and crushed with bone-shattering force. The human barely had time for a final gasp before his eyes dimmed and his blood spilled out, darkening the green of the grass. Moro released the limp body and rushed to San.
"Are you hurt?" she demanded. Instead of answering, San wrapped her arms around Moro's neck and clung tightly to her fur. Her whole body shook. Moro could feel the trembling. The sound of footfalls made her tense, then relax as her sons bounded into view. They skidded to a halt, noticed the dead human, and approached their mother cautiously.
"Where were you?" Moro asked. "You and San were supposed to stay at the cave while I was gone." Her voice contained no accusation, just a blunt, unarguable demand for the truth. Sambro, the eldest, lowered his head guiltily.
"I said there was nothing to do and we would probably have to hunt tomorrow, so we should get some sleep. I guess San waited until Komo and I were asleep, then snuck out. I'm sorry, Mother."
San let go and added "I saw the human and remembered what you told me about them. I tried to attack him, but he grabbed me…" San buried her face in Moro's fur again.
"Should we go back to the cave now?" asked Sambro uncertainly.
"No," Moro replied. An idea had begun to form in her mind. Right now, San looked human. She no longer had any doubt that her daughter was a true wolf, but other humans were likely to see her as one of their own. They might try to take her away, as this human had tried to. She needed to set San apart somehow, mark her as a member of the wolf tribe, so that no human would ever dare to touch her again.
"San," she said. "Get on Sambro's back. We're going to see the Deer God."
Evening hues were spreading across the sky by the time they reached the pool of the Deer God. The light gave the nearby kodamas a faint red-orange tinge. San, who was normally fascinated by the little creatures, stared straight ahead at the Deer God's island.
"When will he come?" she asked.
"Soon," Moro answered. "He returns here every evening." San continued to watch the island, as though expecting the Deer God to appear out of thin air.
"Why can't we cross the pool?" she said.
"The Deer God's island is sacred," Moro explained. "You may only go there if you are badly wounded or in need of a safe haven." Komo's ears pricked up with sudden excitement.
"I smell him! He's coming!" he said eagerly. Moro lifted her head and sniffed. A shiver ran along her body. The Deer God smelled of fresh green buds and soft rotten wood, of milk and sickly sweet carrion- all the aromas of life and death, mixed together to create his own unique scent.
"Where is he?" San demanded impatiently. "I don't see-" She broke off with a startled gasp as the Deer God emerged. He did not turn. He did not even look at them, yet there was no doubt in anyone's mind that the Deer God knew they were there. Moro lowered her head respectfully. San and her brothers quickly did the same. Around them, the kodamas began to click excitedly. Still the Deer God appeared not to notice. He stepped onto the glassy surface of the water and proceeded calmly across it.
"How does he do that?" San whispered curiously.
"It's one of his gifts," Moro told her. The Deer God took a graceful step onto the island. Flowers burst up from the ground as he walked across it, only to wither and fade. When he reached the middle of the island, he turned at last to look at them. As always, Moro wondered why the Deer God's face appeared so similar to a human's. Was it his way of saying that not all humans were evil?
"Deer God," she said. "This is my daughter, San. I need your help to protect her from the humans who have defiled your forest." Moro glanced up at the sky. The first faint stars were visible and a deep, velvet blue had begun to darken the horizon. Soon the Deer God would have to assume his Nightwalker form. When she looked back, she saw that the Deer God was once again crossing the pool. San slid off Sambro's back and walked cautiously to the pool's edge. The Deer God stepped back onto dry land and faced her. For a moment they stood together, both staring intently into the other's eyes. Then the Deer God leaned forward. His lips brushed against San's face, first on her forehead, then once on each cheek. For a moment, Moro thought San was bleeding. Her instincts temporarily overcame her respect for the Deer God and she took a step forward, her fangs bared. Then she realized that the marks on San's face were not blood. Where the Deer God had touched her, three crimson triangles had appeared.
"How did-" Komo began, and then his eyes widened in surprise. At the same moment, Moro felt an odd prickling sensation. Thousands of snowy hairs detached themselves from the three wolves and began to weave together. New fur grew quickly, replacing the missing hairs. It was not painful, at least not for Moro, and she suspected that her sons' yelps were caused more by confusion than anything else. She watched the Deer God closely, but his human-like face was unreadable. The hairs twined around each other, forming a shape of some sort.
Like a cape, Moro thought, but with an extra piece, almost like a tail. The final hairs joined. For a moment the cloak hung suspended, like snow that had slipped from a tree branch and frozen in midair. Then it fell and the Deer God, with an enigmatic smile, turned to face the rising moon. Looking awestruck, San reached out and hesitantly picked up the cape.
"Let's go," said Moro. The Deer God's neck was lengthening, and his skin was turning a dark, translucent blue. Moro trusted the Deer God, but she feared his death-form, the Nightwalker. San climbed quickly onto Sambro's back, still clutching the wolf-fur cloak. Once they were a safe distance from the Nightwalker, Moro allowed herself to ponder the meaning behind the god's gifts. The three marks would certainly set San apart from the humans of the iron-making town. Even the most foolish of humans could not mistake her for one of them now. Three fang-shaped marks the color of blood… did that mean that San would grow up to be a fierce warrior? She was certainly brave enough. Then again, perhaps she was over-thinking it and the markings were nothing more than the Deer God's way of protecting San as she had asked him to. The cloak would prove useful, especially during the winter. Hopefully, it would also enhance her wolflike appearance. A wolf-girl wearing wolf-fur… But would it be enough? She could not protect San forever. If the humans decided to target her, would she be able to defend herself? Moro glanced back at her daughter.
San rode easily on Sambro's back, her sharp eyes scanning the forest. The cloak, which she had draped over her shoulders, rose and fell as though it were a part of her, smoothly matching her movements. A slight breeze caused her to lift her head and sniff warily, before relaxing again. Despite the darkness, San seemed to notice every leaf that rustled and every mouse that scurried fearfully away from the wolves' approach. The red marks gleamed like fresh blood against her pale skin. Moro's heart filled with love and pride. San's body might have been human, but her beliefs and instincts, thoughts and feelings, all the things that really mattered, were pure wolf. Moro turned away, focusing on the path home. Yes. It would be enough.