Dating : A Spirit of Two Voices

Asleep with deep dreams in their family den, Rune had awoken midday by his mother, Imurï.
“Your snoring made wonders. You ate much before sleeping, didn’t you?” asked his mother. Rune woke with a smile after hearing his mother’s sweet voice, or was it the voice of the bird?
“Yes, mother. I wouldn’t lie in that…”
“Well, get yourself up. There’s something you need to do. Something important for the clan.”
“What’s that?”
“Awaken yourself first! I want you to take it as your first Elder task.” When his mother said that with a tone of fear, it was enough to erase off his sleep. Excited or afraid, he never thought an Elder quest would be given to him that soon.

After their supper of little daces, Imurï came to Rune with a kiss to his forehead. “My dear son, here’s to your quest, one that your father and I fought hard with the other Elders for: your right to journey ahead yourself.”
“Really? Where to?” said Rune, like a young one ready to carry his first weight in his shoulders.
“To your friends.”
“What?”
“Those wolves you walked with in the last morrow, you never saw them again, have you?”
Rune took a moment to realize. “Nay, I haven’t.”
“Well, they haven’t returned from yesterday’s hunt. Their families have been worried about them as they usually come with the food for them at the usual hour. (No wonder you came back quite hungry.) Have you seen anything strange when you were there? Your father told me yesterday you weren’t feeling right either.”
Of course, he knew I was lying, thought Rune. “Nay, mother… I left out of my own will. I saw them run after a deer as usual before so. Nothing out of the ordinary happened.”
“Then, by my heart and blessing, I pray they’re safe! Their families weep as they went off to search, but they have been angry that you came back alone without care.”
Rune stood silent. His sadness, his selfishness, caused him to walk alone in the thought of the voice he’d been in love with, forgetting his kindred.
His mother approached his head with hers in warmth, immediately knowing his regret. She calms him before it overwhelms him. And without hesitation, he made an oath to find them before running into the forest. “Walk safely in the paths we take, Rune. May the blessings of the Moon’s Creator be with you,” she told him before he left into the woods.

And as he bolted through, a thought ran in his mind as quick as his feet raced, why would they entrust me with an Elder-worthy quest that soon?
But it didn’t matter, for because of his own love, his selfishness, for a voice that never even cared to meet him, his friends are now somewhere in oblivion, not taken care of by someone who’s expected to be a potential Elder, raised by true Elders. And for the first time in what felt like a long time, Rune’s mind focused on something more than the voice: the search of his disappeared kindred.

How strange is Nature. It teases you with the thing you yearn for, and as soon as you turn your back, it begs for your interest again, Rune’s mind worked as actively as his scanning eyes & running feet. He took the safe path, praying that he’d find them at any spot. But he couldn’t see any figure of his friends.

He stopped for a moment at the spot where he last saw them, or more like, left them behind to disappear. The sun gleamed sharply through the tree hairs, reflecting on the sprinkling rivers he had to pass by, making it even harder for Rune to catch any sight of them. But his nose didn’t fail him. As he passed by a drizzling waterfall, he smelled the scent of one of his friends, the one who kept jeering at his “dream bird.”

Back when he habitually hung out with his peers, Rune noticed as he followed the trail, he was taking routes they never took before. His heart skipped a beat knowing that they may have lost their way back home. Thanking the Creator, because of his wandering thoughts that blinded his mind whenever he roamed off from time to time, he knew his way around.

As he walked on, he stepped out into a field that lacked trees. The sun’s naked light overwhelmed him, and it was hard for his eyes to scan further. He felt that he was walking like a blind creature. But that feeling isn’t new. It was always like that. And that voice was the cause of it all. It blinded him of his one true goal from the start. To be an Elder, one who is responsible for the clan, for his people, and their safety…
Cursing himself, he suddenly laid against the closest tree he could find, not because of anything, but by his weighed down heart. Did they lose their tracks? Did they lose their way? If I was with them, I could’ve led them back… I knew the way. But I wasn’t there. I left them. I am selfish. O Creator, whatever you define me as, I have found the answer of who I am…
But his feet wobbled on something: it was a stamp on the ground, in the shape of a wolf’s foot. The moment Rune saw the footprint was followed by more of them, making for a path, he got up with no hesitation nor weakness. He ran for his friends. And he yelled calls for them. He called every name of every friend he ever knew in his life.

He ran quicker, panting with prayers as the footprints got more fresh and recent. He knew he got them. It’s not too late. They’re close. They’re there. And I am here for all of you.
Until he froze.
Before him, he saw his fellow wolves, all seated in a line, looking up with their ears pointy and intent. They were looking at a short tree, colored with brightly pinkish leaves. And in its arms were a flock of sleeping birds. Birds that were as bright as the spring tree. Yellow, red, violet, peach, orange was their furs, like the fruits of the tree. Before Rune was another miraculous moment given by the Creator. And by a miracle, it was not just the tree and its beautiful residents, but that those wolves were not eyeing the birds with hunger. Rune saw reverence in them.
“My beloved friends!” said Rune, walking amidst them to throw himself with open arms for his peers. They replied his hug at once, and their hug was peacefully warm. “Where were you all this time? Your families have been looking for you.”
“Oh that’s right,” said one of the peers, his tone kind and jolly. “We took too much time here, don’t you think, lads?”
“How much time have we skipped?” question one. “It felt like it was five minutes.”
“Nay mate,” spoke another. “We’ve slept here, remember? Along with those birds. They did their voices right at us, indeed!”
“How have you brought yourselves here?” asked Rune, careful not to awake the birds.
“When we fed on the deer,” spoke a peer, “we saw a flock of birds. As we ran for them, hoping to have them as extra meals (and by the Creator I regret saying that), we saw them lay at this tree, singing some strange rhythms I’ve never heard before. And apparently, we all felt the same. And we lost the sense of time, I guess. But brother you should’ve been there to hear it!” he said in the exact same tone Rune had always given them.
And Rune smiled in return.
“You were right, brother. I think those birds are more than just bags of meat…” said the very wolf who had always ridiculed Rune’s dream.
“Everything the Creator created is more than just what appears to us, fellow brothers,” said Rune in the most seasoned tone. He stood to them, and they all looked at him, perhaps for the first time, as a true Elder. “It’s time for us to return. Our families are waiting.”
“Argh! Blast the Moon, we forgot to gather food for them…”
“They cannot ever be hungry whilst their children are missing. Let’s head back to safety first, then we’ll think of that.” Rune assured them all with a mature smile.
And so they all got up. The wolves left the sleeping birds laying there in peace. But Rune gave a pause before leaving. He was scanning at every bird, wondering who could it be, who is it that sung to me.
As he turned his head to leave, he heard a whistle.
Immediately recognizing it, he followed its source: out of the flock of the spring tree, a bird with furs that are black & white, the same as Rune’s, landed on the leafy ground. It stood there before the wolf, giving cautious distance, but the face moved curiously.
Rune turned and approached slowly. But the bird promptly gave a few steps away.
Rune sat down slowly, bowing his head before the bird. “I mean no harm. Don’t worry. My name is Rune.” He looked at the bird, whose eyes started to show even more curiosity. “May I know your name?”
The bird opened its mouth softly. “Your voice. You’re that voice?”
Rune’s furs rose with the greatest relief by hearing the bird’s voice. The sweetest & peacefully lowest pitch. The one he had yearned for. “Yes… I am the voice. And I am Rune,” he said with such joy in calling himself with his name.
“Elsew is my name,” the bird said, her voice ever fulfilling.
“At long last,” gasped Rune with hope, the eyes of the wolf were tearing. “Such a long time of distant communication, just by a touch of two voices. You’ve no idea how much I wanted to meet this rhythm you had. To meet you.”
“Funny that I held the same feeling,” she said. And Rune got the meaning behind her phrase. She was also looking for him.
“Why have you been looking for me,” he asked, wanting to hear her say it.
“You sang every night with a similar rhythm to mine.”
“Perhaps it was a calling.”
“Only birds tend to do that,” Elsew alluded. And Rune tried to figure out what was her hint. Until suddenly, she flapped her wings and landed herself right before him. “You knew our language. Who taught it to you?”
“I do not know,” though he felt like he knew. It was his heart. “And you understood mine.”
But she did not respond. She only scanned him, head to claw. But with Rune’s gift with every animal, he saw that she held no fear against him anymore.
Trusting his intuition, he closed his eyes, remarkably slowly approaching his head towards the bird. He wanted his senses to answer for him instead of his eyes and ears. He wanted to let his senses collide with his feelings… and hers. He anticipated with all his mental might what he’s about to feel. Perhaps a touch by the bird. Her little head by his, as the wolves of companionship do. Maybe her bark. Her wings on his face sides. Anything.
But he felt nothing.
He opened his eyes and saw Elsew increasing her distance away from him.
“I am sorry, Rune,” she said. For the first time, her voice sounded like a melancholy to the wolf’s ears. “I hoped you were a bird.”
This rotated Rune’s heart. And he was surprised that he took the phrase without bursting in sadness straight after.
“Our voices may have bonded,” she said, in remorse or in gratitude Rune could not tell. “But who we are do not.”
“What do you mean?” he asked in true & clear self-guilt.
“You are a kind wolf, Rune. I see that now. But your voice asked for more than just communication. It yearned for a bond…”
She was right. Her soul understood his. And for a slight moment, he wished the Creator had created him a bird instead.
“We are not suited for this. Though I am now fulfilled and joyful to see who you really are, Rune. Not every wolf is a big bad wolf, as they say.”

That was her last phrase before she wished him goodness and flew away. Rune could not say anything. He knew his heart would mute him for a long time. And he had to return to his brethren. He could not leave them once more. But as he did, they noticed his ears were abnormally down, which was a rare sign of a wolf’s grief. They asked him if all is well. But for some reason or the other, he was able to hide his pain. As a potential Elder, he believed he should never share his pain with any of his clan. He would share only his happiness and triumph. But then, be it the right belief or not, this pain he’s having, he deserved it. That he knew for sure. I deserve it…

As soon as the pack came back to the village, they were surprised to see a group of larger wolves singing in triumph for the return of their lost children. And they had prepared a feast on the same night as a toast and respect for Rune’s determination to redeem his mistake. But Rune was not around.

His parents being the first to notice, Murvir and Imurï walked back to their den where Rune hid. They saw regret in him.
“My son,” said the motherly voice. “You have triumphed in your first quest for the clan as an Elder. Be merry! Why the sorrow?”
“I’m just tired, mother. That is all. I will sleep early tonight,” he said. And the word early never came out of his mouth. He’s as late as an owl in the night, his parents knew. And they knew that he was not trying to hide his grief either.
Just as Imurï was about to appeal to him, Murvir, not yet spoken, landed his palm on hers. She looked at him, finding herself leaving the den to…

“Let Rune in peace for now,” as he said. They took a moment to stand outside their den, watching both their feasting clan from above as well as the rising Moon. The mother kept wondering about what reason could he be bothered. But she had no choice except to trust the Creator.
“When, do you think, will he recover?” prayed Imurï along with her husband.
Murvir gazed at the now drawn stars, comprehending his son fully before finally responding: “The moment he realizes that the Creator never leads one to a Path without reason.”