A couple of years had passed, and we were all living as before; of course, we'd grown up a bit and perhaps got a little (just a little) wiser, but the house was still as lively as ever. The relatives preferred to meet on neutral ground. The twins were still getting up to mischief, Kurvo was still working in the workshop with Father, Maitimo was still best friends with Findekáno, Macalaurë was still composing songs, Moryo was still grumbling, and Turco was still going out hunting … Or was he? Now, here was someone who truly had changed! After a short-lived romance, which ended with a break in correspondence and an apologetic letter from the girl about all the pain caused, along with news of a new and successful suitor, Tyelkormo changed drastically – much to Father's delight. At first, anyway; later on, he and Carnistir would sometimes emerge like storm clouds and curse the world, but he was usually forgiven straight away, with everyone remembering his broken heart …

Anyway, after that failed first love, my brother stopped paying such careful attention to his appearance. He now wore simple suits, braided his light hair into a plain plait, no longer sought the company of women, and spent most of his time hunting. He didn't take me with him yet, since, I quote, I was 'too little and inexperienced', and when Mum and Dad weren't around, just 'a silly little bug'. But I made him promise that once I'd grown a bit, he would definitely take me with him. Because that's ridiculous: Moryo could go, but I'm not allowed! So, to put it simply, Turco had somehow become friends with Oromë.

Time passed, and each day brought him closer to his coming of age. In the spring month of Víressë[1, he would turn fifty!

So, one morning, I woke up early and ran to be the first to lay my present at the bedside of my still-sleeping brother. As I entered the room, I immediately sensed that something was off. My gaze fell upon a small wooden crate from which came faint squeaking and whimpering. I placed my present at the foot of the bed and cautiously peered into the box … There, looking utterly serene, sat a puppy! A real, live puppy! He sat there, looking at me with clear, transparent puppy eyes and, seemingly in greeting, gave a soft bark and wagged his tail. However, it wasn't the thin yipping of a little dog – it was a proper baritone bark, like that of a massive wolfhound. That was enough to make my brother spring up in bed and reach for the bow kept nearby. I don't know how accurate he'd have been half-asleep, but I didn't particularly want to find out.

'Er … Happy birthday!'

'Thanks …' he mumbled, blinking around the room until he too noticed the crate making odd sounds. 'What's that …?' he knelt beside me and peered closely at the puppy.

The pup repeated his greeting and leapt out of his temporary home straight into Turco's arms. My brother sat there stunned for a moment, then we exchanged glances, and he gently stroked the dog's back. The gift seemed to like that and began nudging Tyelkormo's palm and trying to lick it.

'Alright, alright,' the birthday boy laughed, 'good boy! Boy? Yeah. Good boy?'

At last, I had to spoil the cheerful morning.

'Turco? Um … how did he get here?'

My brother returned to reality, though he didn't let go of the dog.

'I don't know.'

'It's just … Mum and Dad would never give us a pet – our house is already a menagerie. All the relatives know that …'

Turco's face suddenly lit up with a strange smile, and, speaking more to the puppy than to me, he voiced a guess.

'Hey, maybe … Maybe it was the Vala Oromë? Did he bring you?'

The pup gave another affirmative yip and wagged his tail furiously.

'Ha-ha! Now Father definitely won't throw you out! Otherwise the Valar will find out!'

'Do you think they'll let him stay?'

'Of course they will! Let's give him a name.'

'You think of one, but not too long. I gather you're planning to hunt with him.'

'Right … Well then, how about Moro?'

'No,' the pup and I shook our heads, 'Moryo will take offence!'

'Maybe Arcan?'

'Doesn't feel right … What about Verp?'

'That one's just weird.'

The door to the room opened a crack and Kano appeared on the doorstep with a small parcel in hand. Seeing that Turco was already awake – and me too – he stopped sneaking and dashed into the room.

'Early birds, aren't you! Happy birthday, Turco!' with these words, the Singer handed our brother his gift. Then he noticed the dog.

'Sië … huo? [2]' his hand froze mid-air and his eyes widened in surprise.

Tyelkormo, meanwhile, leisurely took the parcel from our brother and started shaking it and listening.

'Hey! Open mine first!' I pushed my present under his nose. 'I brought it first.'

'Alright, alright! Let's see … Something small, soft, thin, feels like a rope … You haven't given me a beautifully wrapped piece of rope, have you?'

'Oh, you like the wrapping?' I grinned slyly.

Turcafinwë cautiously opened the package and … Lo and behold! It wasn't rope at all, but a fine lasso. My brother unrolled the gift to its full length.

'A lasso! For hunting?' I nodded. 'Thanks!' he gave me a quick hug, kissed my cheek, and ruffled my hair.

'Hey, I'm not a little kid …! Do you really like it? Will it come in handy?'

'Yeah, it's great! Especially for deer hunting!'

'Praise Eru! I guessed right!' I raised my arms to the heavens while Turco opened Kano's parcel.

'A cone … Looks like a horn. Yes, I'm a genius! A horn!'

'Not just a horn – it's a special instrument with a very melodious sound, sort of like a flute. Music like that calms all the wild beasts!' said the Singer proudly. Kano had thought it through: it isn't convenient to be playing the flute on a hunt, but blowing a horn – that's another matter. We tested it immediately on the new pet, who stopped wriggling at once, and returned to the problem of a name.

'What did you say? Hua?' murmured the puppy's new master. 'Well then … Let it be Huan!'

We agreed that it was a splendid name, and the puppy barked happily.

Soon enough, Nelyo and Moryo arrived, and then the Ambarussar rolled in. Everyone congratulated Turco and handed over their presents. Carnistir didn't even make a single snide remark about the puppy's name. Then we all took turns fussing over little Huan.

The Hour of the Mingling Lights passed, and our parents began to stir. Soon, we were all dressed and sitting at the festive breakfast table. Father gave a solemn speech (he loves those), and Mother had baked a massive celebratory cake herself.

When all that remained of the cake were crumbs on the plate, Turco stood up and said,

'Dear Mum and Dad, it was a wonderful morning! Thank you for the lovely celebration …'

Our parents were so happy that they didn't even notice it was theQuick Tempered Tyelkormo – the most irritable and least grateful of their sons – giving this little speech. They didn't even raise an eyebrow at the words 'was a wonderful morning'.

'But I feel it's my duty to inform you …' he hesitated and started again. 'You know I often go hunting with the Vala Oromë's retinue, and … Apparently, he thought I'd need this.'

With these words, he pulled Huan out from under the table.

Mum and Dad sat frozen, thunderstruck, while the pup barked merrily and wagged his tail. Nine pairs of eyes looked up at them, all wide and hopeful (even Moryo seemed to like the little wolfhound).

At last, Nerdanel sighed and painfully asked,

'Children, how on earth are we supposed to keep a dog on top of everything else?'

Fëanáro glanced from the puppy to the boy a few times, then did some complex internal reasoning, and looked again at the pair. Finally, as if surrendering, he sighed in resignation.

We kept the dog. As much as our parents would have liked not to add an animal to a house already crammed with children, who (especially certain small and red-headed ones) often behaved more like wild forest creatures themselves – they decided not to turn away a gift from Oromë himself. And so a new friend joined our happy family. And Turco was thanking the Vala for a long time after that.

[1] April
[2] Quenya: 'This is … a dog?'