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Told to Twilight Sings by Leaves-in-Twilight. To be told to members of the Shadow Walker tribe, at least.


As time went on and the long-lost, far-flung cousins came back to the swamp, as some among the Kimeti were recognized by the MotherFather and ascended like the legendary kin of ancient stories, as families drew in on themselves and gathered together to form tribes, Leaves-in-Twilight found himself pondering many things.

He had not been sleeping well. He had been hearing whispers and murmurs just out of understanding every hour of the sleepless day and too-exciting night. He had a solution, though. To give himself some peace and sort out the busy business in his head, he had gathered the leaves of the Mindsease bush and started a small fire, clacking the rock held between his teeth against another to create a spark. When it caught and after he'd breathed life into the flame, he sat where the smoke would curl toward him and breathed deep...

So it was that Twilight Sings came across him the depth of night, still breathing if not moving, hunched beside his little fire. Spiritchaser the owlcat perched on his back and watched her as she first neared, then paused, then started on her way path. She would not disturb a dreamer.

But something did. The sound of her breath, the shudder of her light footfall. Something broke through the veil surrounding Leaves-in-Twilight and he lifted his head, taking a sharper, deeper breath. Before his vision even cleared, he began to speak:

"There was a time when we, all of the kin, were young and new to the Swamp. The MotherFather blessed us and we grew great in number. We learned, we laughed, we loved. We explored to the edges of the swamp. Some even dared go beyond. We told stories and we sang songs and we carved pictures into the damp earth.

"But we were so full of life that none of us dared to die.

"Until a doe called Walks-on decided to see how far she could go. She was great of heart and even greater of imagination. She had gone to the highest and lowest places in the Swamp. Found the coldest and warmest and all those in between. She had mated, as had her offspring, and theirs, and theirs beyond. She had heard so many stories and learned so many songs that there was little room in her head, and yet there was one adventure that awaited her: The Great Walk.

"She did not say goodbye because she suspected she would one day return. She simply woke as the sun was rising and followed its light. Through the Swamp and to the edge where the earth became harder and grasses grew up to brush her knees and the trees faded away.

"She walked across the hills and valleys to a realm where the ground was even drier but it shifted underfoot and she had to learn a new way to walk so she would not always stumble to her knees in the heat. From there, she made her way to the mountains where she learned to climb rocks and stood on the topmost, daring to lean into a wind so strong she almost thought if she fell she might never fall to the earth again.

"And on she walked until, it seemed, she came back to the Swamp again. Oh, her heart swelled with joy and she longed to tell the tale of all she had seen and felt and learned and tasted. When she came to the edge of familiar lands, though, a soft fog descended, like early morning on the first days of spring. She would have to walk through the shimmering curtain to cross to the other side and come home.

"As she put her first hoof across and felt the cool kiss of silver dewdrops on her hide, a voice filled her head, warm and welcoming and so inviting. It spoke with the voices of buck and doe, young and old at once, and she knew in an instant the MotherFather was speaking. 'Come in,' the voice said. 'Come home, be welcome. You have been long away from home, Walks-on, and you have been dearly missed. But know,' it went on, 'that if you continue on this path, you cross over to a new life. You will leave your body behind. You will know no hunger, you will feel no pain. You may see your loved ones, and watch them grow and change, but they may not see you again until they too follow the trail you have blazed.'

"It was a momentous decision. Bigger than the choice to leave in the first place. If she did not finish crossing over, what would happen? Would she be doomed to wander forever, alone? If she did not cross over, she would never know what waited on the other side. She could live in the MotherFather's realm. She would be at the heart of all things.

"Three days she debated, half in and half out of the shimmering boundary between worlds. Three days she debated and warred with herself, but on the third day, she knew she had no other choice. She stepped through and the curtain closed behind her. When she looked back, there on the other side lay her body, curled as if sleeping though her sides did not rise and fall."

Now his eyes cleared a bit and Leaves-in-Twilight seemed to realize that he had living company, that the doe who listened so attentively was not simply a figment of his mind. He considered her, then climbed to his feet and shook out his hide, taking a half step to one side to catch his balance, but his mind was clearing fast.

"This is why we do not fear death," he said, without missing much more than another beat. "This is the message the spirits wish us to provide. If you will help me," he thought to ask, but the doe was already nodding her assent.

So it was that Leaves-in-Twilight came to lead the Shadow Walker tribe and to teach others not to fear the spirit world but to be ready when their time must inevitably come.