Excerpts from the book

 

For the Wise Women

 

" ... For the first time in her life Karla was confused about what to do. It was not so much how to do what she must, rather it was a case of so much to do, with such urgency, that she felt overwhelmed by the situation.  To help calm herself she took a few deep breaths and slowly took in the shapes, smells and colors of the leaves of their sheltering tree. The gentle rustle of stiffening yellow leaves whispered of quieter times, bringing memories of the birth of her children, and years of joy nurturing them through their infancies. The contrast of that uncomplicated calm with her suddenly remembered dreams of losing her children shook lose whatever peace she had hoped to achieve. The pressure of building tears made her turn from the moment by suddenly jumping up and running to the stream ignoring Heron’s call of inquiry.

Slowing at the edge of the water she waded in, trailing her hands as its chill reached her waist. Gasping against the cold shock she pressed on, letting her feet find their own way amongst the rocks and dead falls, direction coming from instinct rather than through tear clouded eyes.  Slowly, nature forced its way into her consciousness, gentling the emotional storm racking her heart. Cupping her hands she swept water over her face then rubbed her eyes and forehead harshly as if to drive out her torment. She continued this ritual, each repetition bringing her further back from the abyss, closer to her strengths, her resources and her ability to reason. Deliberately she sought a deep pool and stepped into its clutch. Icy water covered her completely. Standing hard against the current, fighting her natural buoyancy, she held her place, willing the frigid water to replace the fire in her with cold resolve and the courage to survive her fears.

At last her emotional pyres were dampened. Control once more hers, Karla breached the surface, gasping fresh fall air pungent with the scents of old summer and dying vegetation. With a couple of sure strokes she found solid footing and rose from the embrace of the healing stream. Although stunned by her sudden outpour of fear and emotion, she was not surprised. For many days she had held the family together. Her knowledge of medicine told her that eventually, without an outlet, the dam would burst. She was bemused that she found herself to be so normal after all, that she would be caught unawares by her own self. Smiling with irony she left the stream and strode purposefully towards the encampment, strategies and plans filling the spaces left by spent emotions. Karla, mate of Karl of the Lions, was back, and she was a force to be reckoned with. Beware any and all who would threaten her cubs, mate or herself. ... "

© 2014 Galen Dean Loven All Rights Reserved

 

The Weeping Birch

 

"Particularly attractive to Karl was an enormous weeping birch, dangling it's tendrils majestically over water and land alike. It's trunk was larger than his reach, it's height deceptive due to the incredible span of it's branches. It was possible to house three, maybe four complete families underneath it's protection. So dense were it's branches and leaves that rain never seemed to make it to the ground, instead being greedily inhaled by the canopy of tiny oval shaped leaves. Soon these leaves would be turning a golden color, splashing the area with an exuberant announcement of pending winter. It's fall color always reminded Karl of spring sunrise filtered by tender shoots of new grass and dew mist. How wonderful that the herald of death also promised fresh life. Each fall he would bring his family to this spot, coming from their special place across the stream. Here they would gather their emotional energy and strength for the winter to come."

© 2014 Galen Dean Loven All Rights Reserved

 

Karlan Grows

 

" His silent exterior belayed the turmoil within. His brother’s story from the previous night was the breaking of his internal dam. Conflicting emotions, strange thoughts, a compelling sense of urgency, hormones, and dread all coursed through his rigid body. He had not moved all morning, using the retreating image of that remarkable woman to hold him still, allowing his inner battle time and space to run its course. He was doubtful that he was even capable of movement during this battle for reason. Unlike his brother, Karlan was not equipped for subtlety, his world instead being one of action and reaction.

The young hunter’s head hurt. This was a new sensation for him. It felt like strong hands were squeezing his skull, trying to crush it. The sense of compression was aggravated by tightness in his chest. While he could still breathe, it took effort, as if his ribs were bound by strong leather. He found that standing still helped a little. Overall he was frozen in place, incapable of actively being part of life. While a small part of him had hoped for a revelation watching the back of his grandmother, the balance of his mind was locked firmly in neutral."

© 2014 Galen Dean Loven All Rights Reserved