May 23, 2523
It's been weeks since I wrote last, I was too sad to write
anything. My life is, I don't know what my life is anymore. On
May 7th, my dad came home, in a casket. I was upstairs in my room
when I heard the doorbell, so I ran halfway down the stairs and
saw mom at the door. She opened it to see two men in uniforms. I
immediately fell down in tears, I knew what it meant. My father
is dead, they said he died when he and some other soldiers were
trying to help a small village that was being attacked by enemy
soldiers. After his funeral I stayed at the gravesite for hours
in the snow and cold, tear were falling down my face in rivers.
Mom pleading with me to come home, I refused. Dad was the one who
was always there for me, he was the one who cared when no one
else did. Part of me wishes that it was mom who was dead not him,
but I know to be careful of what I wish. So I sat there staring
at the tombstone, it read; "Lúcás Faolán, father, husband,
friend, soldier, hero.". I almost half jokingly thought that
there needed to be one more thing on it, wolf. He was a wolf,
like grandmother and I, he was a wolf.
When I was finally ready to leave, I heard a noise in the trees behind me. I looked back and I swear I saw a dog in the trees. I took a closer look and I noticed it was a wolf, in fact it was one of the wolves from my dream, but it had strange lights in it's fur this time. I did not dare to go near it, but part of me wanted to. It came up to me and licked the tears away, then it sat next to me. I did not know whether it could talk to me or not, so I didn't say a word, neither did it. I stayed there all night, and though it was cold and snowing, somehow the wolf kept me warm. When the morning came, the wolf looked me into my eyes and said this with a familiar voice, "Always have hope dear Zarah. Trust in both your Ancestors and in your wolf, they will never abandon you, nor shall I. Be brave, be strong, and never let anyone push you around." The wolf was my father, I had then realized it was his spirit. He turned and ran into the woods, but looked back at me one more time, "Oh, and do be kind to your mother, I know it may not seem like she cares, but she does." He added before disappearing into the wind. I made a promise to him and to myself that I would believe in my wolf, I know it is part of me now. I must trust that it will one day be needed, if it isn't already. I had a feeling that fate had plans for me and my wolf, and we were going to have to get along if we want to get through things.
May 31, 2523
Today I met another wolflord, Alana, grandma's niece. Alana seems to have a different aditude about the whole wolf-lord thing, a very negative aditude about it. She said that she was here on behalf of the Tribe, and that they want her to train me, with grandma's help in the ways of the Tribe and Tribe wolf-lords. She made it seem as if it was a punishment for her. Hopefully we'll be able to get along, but I'll never know.
June 4, 2523
Today, Alana and grandma taught me about "wolf" names. I learned that wolves are always named after things in nature, or for some wolves, words in the ancient wolf tongue. Grandma told me that her name is Rain, Alana said that her's is Mist, and that my name is wolf for "beautiful". I asked grandma what dad's wolf name was, she told me it was Hearth, as he always seemed to bring warmth around him wherever he went. I still haven't told her about seeing dad's spirit at his grave, I'm not sure it that important that I do tell her anyways. She seemed completely unshaken and not sad at all about dad's death. He was her son, does that mean anything to her? Maybe it's because she's an immortal and is very old, she's probably buried many sons and daughters and other loved ones, maybe after all those times she realized that her tears and emotions were useless? I don't know, and I don't have the courage to ask her. She might just be mourning him in her own special way, like mom.
Mom has barely spoken a word to me or anyone else besides causal greetings. She is so heart broken over dad's death, I can see it in her eyes. I try to comfort her as much as I can, but it seems useless. At night, when she thinks I'm asleep and that I can't hear her, I hear her crying and praying out loud about dad's death, wishing it was her not him. I even heard her say that she doesn't know if she's a good mother to me. When I heard that I silently cried, but also remembered what dad told me. I know that she won't be over his death anytime soon, if ever, but I'm going to try and be a good daughter, for her sake. For the first time I realize how important she is to me and how horrible it would be if I lost her.