Indifferent to the child's anger and words, the white god's only answer was a flick of his tail and a fleeting glance. It was senseless to argue with the young, they were too inexperienced and rash, blind to the vast knowledge that they did not possess. Wings spread, he reached skyward, his small form carried aloft until he disappeared among the stars as if he had never been there at all. Perhaps someday the young cub would understand the words he had spoken to her, or perhaps she would not. But then that too was a part of the balance.
