Art by  RyngsRaccoon

As the sun sets, I settle in the clearing. A small fire built before me, its flames sending flickering light against the encircling pines.

As my fathers before me, I carry the prayers of my people. Not just their words, but their looks on their face, the wistfulness of their dreams, their tears tracking down their cheeks, the lines of worry of the future. The loneliness of the recently widowed longing for his husband.

The scent of burning oak filling my nostrils, I commit those prayers to the flames. The fire grows brighter, and the smoke coalesces into a more solid form. With a gesture of my fan, two shapes burst forth. The wolf, the hunter, guardian, and partner. The Eagle: the messenger, who sees true, who ties our people with those who came before. They carry the cares, worries and thoughts of the living across the veil.

Its purpose served, the fire dies, its fragrance fading from the sacred circle. I rest beside it till the embers fade. The wind whispers past my cheeks and ears, a sign my task has been successful.

Reaching my paw out, pressing against the thinned veil, sending my own greetings and prayers to those who have moved beyond, a special greeting for my grandfather who passed 5 years before.

I turn my back on the darkened circle, and head back to the homes of my people, and the lives we share under the brightness of the sun.