Coyote sat down and started working on something or other on her computer, I finished up the first gun and was taking the second one apart when Cougar walked in.

"Hey." I said as soon as I heard the door open.

"Dean," was his reply. I glanced over at Coyote before looking at him, her shoulders were tight which wasn't a good sign at all. When I looked at him I was again reminded of how damn intimidating that man can be. I do a pretty good job at blanking out my face when shit's about ready to hit the fan, or so I've been told, Coyote can too, but Cougar brings whole new meaning to the description stoney faced. There was nothing on his face, I couldn't even read his eyes which always bothered the hell out of me. I couldn't tell if he was pissed, bored or what.

She finished typing and turned to face him. I may not be able to read him but she could. Her I can read, and what I saw I didn't like. "What is it?" She asked. I felt like I'd missed half a conversation and neither of them had said anything yet.

He sat down on the couch glanced at me, then focused on her. "Let me make sure I have this correct. You two, based on very minimal information, are assuming that the monsters are somehow forming alliances and going after hunters. You are then assuming that even though you, Dean and you Shaman Coyote, haven't hunted in quite some time that your presence is required to somehow save every hunter on the planet, and because of this choice Shaman, you have decided to leave us for an unknown length of time and possibly get killed. Is that an accurate description of the situation?"

Not good, he was using her title.

"They have turned a hunter, threatened another and are acting completely out of character," she stated.

"So you have been told Shaman, this hunter being turned. There is no verification."

There was absolutely no emotion in his voice at all.

"Sam is getting verification but either way if the hunter was not changed and someone is faking it or if the hunter was changed the monsters are turning into aggressors in ways they haven't before."

He barely nodded, I was getting the feeling that this was some sort of test or practice run but I had no idea for what or why.

"And how is that such a threat to us that you must leave?"

"If it wasn't for hunters, we would not have that truck stop. If they are destroyed we will not be able to finish that project, which many of our future plans and projects to better our situation are based on. We need them, they have helped us for no pay or reward. They are doing this because of the respect they have for Dean. Should we abandon them when they need us? Should I? I am the person that persuaded Dean to call them and ask for help. How is it honorable to ask for aid then not give it in return?"

"Your choice to leave then, it is in the best interest of the tribe and not because you wish to," his eyes locked on to me, "follow him."

Oh hell.

Coyote didn't flinch, "Yes, that is correct. I must leave to help the tribe."

"And you wish to leave me in charge in your absence."

"Yes. You have been at the side of both Rising Dove and I, you are more than capable of guiding the tribe in the meantime."

Silence took over. I'd long since stopped working on the guns. There was a tension I couldn't describe going on between them and it just got thicker and thicker the longer neither of them spoke. They just stared at each other, as still as stones. Cougar gave ground first, his eyes lowered. "I will stand with you, because of the reasons you stated, but.." his eyes met mine again, "they will all sense the real reasons Coyote, just as I do. Yes, he may have brought the hunters to us, but he will be the reason we lose you in the end."

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a sealed envelope, "Before Rising Dove passed away, he gave this to me. Told me it was for you and I would know when you would need to see it. I have not read it, but when you called I remembered it and I felt him." He crossed the room and handed it to her. I've never seen her move so slow to take something from someone, she was in shock and she wasn't the only one.

Once he'd delivered it to her he took a step towards me, I debated getting up but he stopped. "Dean, I want to thank you for all the help you've given us. If Coyote was not in the position she is in, her comings and goings, her relationship with you would be less of an issue for all of us. You see how things stand with us, how few of us are left, how little we have. To have a Shaman with her strength and abilities be in love with a white man with your background and list of enemies, it's like salt in a wound that never heals. You have always known your history would catch up to you, and you living here, it puts all of us at risk. Not just physcially but culturally. If she dies, we have no one else with her talents here. She knows this, yet she chooses you still."

"Cougar, I told her to stay, I swear."

He nodded, "I know, but she will never abandon you." He turned his back on both of us, "I will tell the rest to meet at the community center. Be there in an hour Shaman. Perhaps between now and then you will be able to admit the truth about how important this tribe, these people, really are to you." Even though he shut the door softly on his way out it was still the loudest noise in the room. I sure as hell hadn't expected any of that and judging from how much her hands were shaking as she numbly stared at the letter, she hadn't either.

"Sweetheart?" How clean the guns were mattered a whole lot less than it had five minutes ago. I was out of the chair and kneeling next to her in about thirty seconds.

"I..." She was speechless, which pretty much never happens. Tears were starting to well up in her eyes as she fumbled with opening the envelope. She finally managed to get the letter out and start reading it. I chose not to read over her shoulder, she'd tell me when she was ready to. I just watched her face. She already had shock covered before she'd opened it, as her eyes moved left to right I saw guilt, loss and way too much old pain fly across her face. Whatever Rising Dove said, it was hitting her in the places she'd least expected it to. "Oh...no...he's right..." her mouth dropped wide open, the letter fell from her hands and the tears started falling.

"Hey, come here," I reached out to hold her but she backed away.

Her eyes were wide and she looked totally lost, "I need to think. Just leave me alone for a while, please."

"Uh..."

Before I even got a chance to say okay she was out the back door and moving fast across the yard into the open plains behind the house. She hadn't told me I couldn't read it so I picked the letter up and sat in her chair as I started to read.

"Coyote,

I had a vision yesterday, a vision that has caused me a great deal of sorrow. I know you often complain of how vague visions are and I always tell you that they are that way because the Spirits know we cannot handle the great truths they can share with us. How I wish this vision was vague and, as you often say, pointless. But it was not. I know now that I will be seeing my ancestors soon, much sooner than I would wish to. There is so much more I wish to teach you, I need to teach you, but I can't, which is why I think the Spirits chose to be blunt with me.

I have so much to say and no idea how to say it, for an author I find myself oddly lacking in the ability to find the words I wish to use. You have always had such great gifts, you're so much your father's child in that respect, but you are also your mother's child. Your desire to learn, to grow, to leave the Reservation and explore everything in the world, that was all your mother. And, like your mother I fear it will take you from us.

It pained your father greatly, far greater than he ever expressed to you, when you chose to go to college instead of study with me. He would never hold you back but he knew that you would bury your gifts once you moved among the world of machines and money, you would have to to succeed. He was proud of you, never doubt that. We would always celebrate your achievements when we learned of them, but he still wished that you would return at some point. As the times between your visits lengthened he knew that you had fallen prey to that world, but what could he do? Condemn his own daughter for her success? Her ambition? No. He would never do that.

Then came the day you told us that you were choosing to "freelance" as you called it. We all were worried at first, but we weren't certain that something was truly wrong until you came to visit after that. You had changed, you were rougher, colder, your energy was more that of a warrior, he and I could both tell that something had reawakened your gifts. Yet you lied to us, you hid what you'd become from all of us, all of us but one. He did not tell us, don't be angry at him, but did you really think you could hide what you were doing from two Shamans? Great Coyote and Crow both sent us visions of you, your father had dreams of what you were experiencing, just as you dreamt of his death.

We didn't understand why at first. We are Shamans, we know that supernatural things exist, you know this. We spent hours trying to figure it out. You had always told your father everything before, yet you did not speak of this. The longer it went on the more we realized that the reason you'd kept it from us was because that you enjoyed it, perhaps too much. That, on some level you craved the kill, the fact that you were beholden to no one but yourself, that you lived outside all laws. You had escaped from both the white man's world and ours, you were truly free. That was the only thing that made sense to us.

Then one day you came for a visit and I sensed something, some bond that had not been within you before. You'd shared something precious with another. I didn't tell your father because I wasn't certain as to who or why until the demons came and you brought Dean and Sam to us, the minute I laid eyes on Dean I saw the connection between the two of you and I saw how you both denied it. During the Sweat Ceremony it was almost blinding, the ties between the two of you. Yet he left. Then several things became very clear to me.

When your father died, I did all I could to keep you from the suffering I saw in you future. I knew it would tear you apart. When you left to go on a monster killing spree I prayed and hoped that you would return. Thankfully you chose to and I used your guilt at your father's death to guide you towards becoming Shaman. You needed something to focus on, to put all your considerable energies towards. It worked too, at least it did until Dean came back into your world. After the ceremony your attentions became divided, yes you hid it as well as you could but you were worried, because of what we saw. You feared for him. Whenever he would return or you would leave to meet him it would take you days to be able to truly focus again when you got back or he left. You were living in two worlds.

I hoped that it would fade over time but it did not. Which means my impending death and what follows will be that much harder for you. You see my daughter in Spirit, I know you will become Shaman when I pass, I know that you will do great things and I know at some point you will be forced to choose. There will be a moment when you realize the love of your tribe is not as great as your love for him and as Shaman you must be willing to serve the tribe in everything.

So my child, I wish to tell you that when this moment arises to truly study your heart. You can still serve your tribe as something other than Shaman. Being Shaman should not shackle you, should not be something that you feel forced to do. It should be the thing that makes your Spirit sing. If it does not do that, then you are not a Shaman.

Coyote, you are a person of great power and strength. You can help the tribe in many ways, but if you cannot put the needs of the tribe above your own then by being Shaman you ultimately hurt it, not help it.

Who makes your Spirit sing? Is it the eyes of your tribe when you help them or is it his eyes when you are together?

I will always love you, I want nothing but your happiness. Always remember that.

Rising Dove"

It was dated about six months before he passed away.