The youngest pups had been howling for hours; some at play, some crying, antagonized by the next oldest litter who kept addling them. Unakna was about to throw the older litter into the canyon. One thing she could never understand, was why they were so much better behaved when Mak was with them. When at last she'd gotten her family out the door, the Den Mother came with her betrothed, a stout and feisty warrior named Wuknvar. He was not a handsome man, nor a particularly learned one either, and other than being from a cadet branch of a noble line, there was nothing noteworthy about him in general. Still, Unakna bowed, signaling for her children to do the same. He beamed when they did. His grin was toothy. He returned the bow to each of her pups, and then at last to her. His long, spotted neck was so wide it seemed he had no shoulders, giving him a cobra like aspect when he bowed. His round ears quivered constantly as he spoke.

"My squadron has much admiration for the Iron Dogs, and especially for their captain. We call him Thunderheart in the ranks. I hope he wouldn't mind that."

Unakna smiled a little. That name was quite an honor, being the monicker of Nanaki, thirteenth of the fabled Red Knights of Gi. She curtseyed, then offered Wuknvar her hand, which he promptly touched with his wet nose, a little too hard. "I certainly don't, and I doubt Mak would either. Den Mother," she bowed low.

The Den Mother took her arm. "Call me Asvana. Walk ahead with me, Unakna. Wuknvar can look after you litters."

Warily, Unakna walked ahead with Asvana. All the canyon had turned out for the last day of the festival. There was to be a special appearance from their Matron, and an announcement sure to make all rejoice. The Solstice Eternal was lined with rows of tall lanterns lit with blue and yellow flames. Children paraded with jars filled with torchbugs, raising them as they chanted praises to Arun and his golden crown. Tall wooden likenesses of the Sun were suspended by ropes over the center of the great plaza, tied to the statues of the Red Knights of Gi. Unakna took a long look at Nanaki as they passed. He was younger than the other Red Knights, and according to the tales more than a little hotheaded. Mak was more than a little hotheaded, before fatherhood cooled him off. Fatherhood and marriage, and his rank as captain in the Eternal Guard.

She remembered the moment she met him as if it had just happened. A dozen families had gathered in the Valley of the Fallen star to feast and dance. She realized she'd forgotten the vegetables, and was sullenly turning back to the canyon, not looking forward to the long climb to their level. A boy not much older than her asked why she was leaving. He wasn't the largest of the boys, nor the strongest looking. But he was handsome, in a brazen sort of way, and there was a confidence in his eyes that Unakna found hypnotic. She said something in reply, though to this day she could not remember what. Whatever it was, it confused Mak, but when she promptly explained the situation with the vegetables he gave a long, slow nod.

"Come with me," he said, and they walked back to where her parents had laid out their blankets and dug their cooking pit. Mak bowed to her father, pointed to both of his parents and several of his elders, then asked if he could be allowed to accompany Unakna back to the canyon so that she need not feel isolated while others enjoyed the feast and dance.

It was the kindest thing she'd ever seen a boy do, and her father was most impressed with the great respect he showed. They were well on their way to her house when he admitted to her that his parents were no where near the valley that evenday, and that he did not know the elders he'd pointed too. The truth was even sweeter than the lie, that he had seen her several turns before and had to meet her.

"You always look after your siblings," he went on to say, "making life much easier for your mother. Few of the women on my level have a mind for such things. Myself, I have always known that I want to marry a woman who is not afraid of inglorious work."

"So she can do it for you?", she asked, starting to feel a little indignant.

"No. So she won't think less of me when I help her with it. I tire of seeing mothers wearing themselves out with the pups while fathers stand idly and tell windy anecdotes about the weather and historical trivia."

She smiled, awed by his lofty speech. He then stole a kiss before running off, and her heart had been decided. She laughed. We were so young and stupid.

"Thinking of Mak?" asked Asvana.

Unakna nodded.

"You're the luckiest woman of all the canyon."

She nodded again, her lips drawn tight. She tried to mask the expression with a smile.

"Unakna," Asvana drew her close, "you mustn't scorn other women for admiring Mak. He's one of the finest men out of all the tribes. None of us wish to steal him from you. Do not confuse jealousy with envy."

"You've your own man, now, Asvana. What cause have I to worry?"

"None at all. You never have. Unakna, let us be friends. Or friendly, at least. I've grown fond of your eldest daughter. Nikinara has a heart of fire, and she is so lovely. I heard a rumor that the Sisters of the Hunt have their eye on her. It would be a fine thing for her to join..."

"Truly?" Unakna interrupted. "Don't tease me with such a thing, Den Mother."

She drew her close again. "Asvana! And yes, truly Though I will be a poor friend if I don't tease you. But I'm speaking facts, now. She has the build, the eye, and the stance of a huntress. If you'd like, I could put a few words in the right ears."

"You'd do that?"

The Den Mother stopped, turned her, put both hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. Asvana was a beautiful creature, lithe, strong and graceful, with a long and slender muzzle and a sleek, brindled pelt.

"Why does that surprise you?" she asked, seeming a little hurt.

Unakna felt ashamed. "I don't know. I'm sorry Asvana. Thank you. I'd like to first speak with Nikinara."

Asvana dropped her head. "I am so ashamed. I said her name wrong.". She looked up. "Forgive me?".

Unakna gave a polite nod, then gently took the Den Mother's hands off her shoulders. "We'll miss our Matron's appearance.". Asvana took the hint, and they resumed their course, weaving through the cartwheelers and jugglers and sweets vendors. The stairs to the palace of Phosphora were lined with guards as always. She Bruk, should have been in Mak's place. Instead there was a man she did not know.

"Brassondor," Asvana sneered. "A whelp of the Bronze Mastiffs. Pay the sleight no heed, Unakna. Your Mak is the Iron Dog captain. All the soldiers know that."

Unakna took her coin pouch from her belt and went to a line of vendors that stood outside multi colored tents. Each sold a jar of torchbugs of the color of their tent. Her pups lined up, from oldest to youngest, except for Nikinara, who was looking at gowns at a nearby stall. She turned to call for her when two of her middle children began clawing at each other.

"Stop that!" she shouted. "Why are you fighting?".

There was ample blame, but little answer from the young ones. She looked to Sheik, her next oldest daughter, and their twin sons Hayaldin and Huskar. "Can you buy the jars?", she handed them her pouch, but the two little ones resumed their scuffle and knocked her coins all over the floor. She cuffed them both hard, and the older one began to cry. She wanted to throw up her hands and go home.

"Nikinara," she looked at her daughter, who was holding a scant gown up to the red light of the sky. It was so thin Unakna could see the veil of clouds through its fabric. Angery, she went to her daughter and took the gown. "You will never wear such a thing. I need you to watch the babies. Hyaldin, pick up our money. Huskar, keep them from fighting or your father will hear you didn't.". Their father.

Nikinara took the gown back. "I'm buying it, and I'm wearing it."

She looked at her daughter cooly. "You have no money."

"I do. I am to join the Sisters of the Hunt. They take care of their own."

"That was quick? I haven't even mentioned it to you yet."

"Asvana told me."

Unakna snarled. "She's Asvana to you now, eh?"

Nikinanra snarled back. "She's always been Asvana to me."

She heard her pups snarling and scuffling again, and took a long, hissing breath before speaking. "You're no huntress yet, and if you wish to have a chance at my approval, you will put away that gown, and help me with your brothers and sisters."

For a moment, she thought her daughter was going to strike her. Instead she gave the gown back to the shopkeeper, and walked stiffly to her siblings. She cuffed the two that were fighting hard, then picked up the purse and counted the coins.

"This is only half of them!" she shouted at the twins. "Pick up the rest.".

"She has a way with them," said Asvana from the side.

She turned and squinted at the Den Mother. "I thank you for your interest in Nikinara's future, but I would prefer you leave it to me to speak to her of her opportunities."

"I am sorry, Unakna. I told her of the Sisters' interest days ago. Please forgive me. And please, let me buy your family's jars.".

Unakna put her hand on Asvana's wrist, stopping her from drawing out her pouch. "Thank you, Den Mother.".

She turned and went to her children. They each took their jars gladly, and pranced about with them immediately. The two who were fighting seemed to have completely forgotten of their argument. Only Nikinara had no jar. She stood stone faced with her hands folded across her chest.

Unakna bout a jar and handed it to her.

"I'm too old for the jars," the girl said.

"I bought it," Unakna replied, "take it."

"You take it. You bought it.". Nikinara then turned and disappeared into the crowd. Unakna buried her face in her hands, forgetful of the jar. It fell to the ground and shattered in a burst of glass shards and fluttering torchbugs. Her shoulders shook as she tried hard to stifle tears. She felt a hand on her back and wheeled, expecting it to be Asvana. It was Hayaldin.

"Mother, are you alright?".

She sighed heavily. "Yes. Help me clean this up."

He had already dropped to his knees and was picking up the shards of glass. She joined him, then they went to where the rest of the brood was prancing with their jars. The parade ended shortly after, and Unakna wished she hadn't bought the foolish jars, seeing how little time was left for the parade. If only we'd come sooner. She barked under breath, remembering how trying it was to corral her younger children, depending on the older ones for help, though most of them were almost as difficult to manage.

"Thank you for the jars, Mother."

She looked at Hayaldin. Is he trying to make me cry? What did I do to deserve this boy?

She pulled him close for a hug. "I want to find a family with children like you, and see if they'll trade them for your brothers and sisters."

They shared a laugh, then all went silent as a beam of violet light shot from the pyramid at the back of the palace. Drums rattled a slow tattoo, followed by a slow marching dirge played on a wooden flute. Phosphora was not one for pomp, unlike her sister Kari who often streaked across the sky in search of doomed husbands. Unakna harbored a secret fear she might one day come for Mak. She felt silly over that fear, sometimes, but told herself all wives probably shared that fear.

The first daughter of Arun came from her palace, clad in white gold armor and carrying a blinding mirror shield. On her back was clasped a long bladed glaive that gleamed with blue lightning. There was a palpable tension among the crowd, as the boldest among them dared to murmur guesses as to why she was armored. With no words, she rose in the air high above the canyon. The drums were drowned out by the stomping of the stone pygmies. In lines of fifty they marched down the stairs, then turned and walked the length of the wide avenue that lead to the canyon's approach and wound serpentine down its path. There must have been thousands of them, as it was nigh the tide of noon by time they left. After them were the Sages of Nessus, their metal legs scuttling along the stone ground. One turned and seemed to look directly at Unakna with its pale blue eyes.

The Eternal Guard marched next, followed by the Sisters of the Hunt. It suddenly struck Unakna in the gut. They are marching on Ralgrimr, to battle with the Fiends. She knew that the Huntresses would likely be thinking of their impending casualties, and were looking among the young girls to replenish their ranks after the battle. COuld she stand to have both a husband and a child in military service? She wondered then what strange errand Mak had been sent on, and her stomach ached so hard she wanted to retch.

Phosphora glowed bright as a star when the troops had all gone. Her armor and shield, brilliant as they were, were swallowed by her body's own luminescence. The sky was lit be her incendiary aura, so near the space where the firmament was thin and the stars shone through. The crimson veil above them turned white where the Mighty daughter hovered. She moved slowly through the air, keeping pace over her marching troops. She was a beacon of power for them and a warning of wrath for their foe. Unakna watched fearfully until their Matron was no more than a tiny light, then began herding her children together for the trip home. They were about to make their way back, along with hundreds of others, when there was a crack so loud they thought the world had broken. From the direction of Ralgrimr, they saw a flurry of lights darting in every direction. Dark shapes emerged from above, winged creatures and floating serpents, all spiraling outward before converging on a single point. Phosphora raged, shooting bolts of searing light, and the dark shapes plummeted to the ground.

"She is strong," said Asvana from behind.

Unakna turned and squinted. "Of course she is strong. She is the first daughter of Arun."

"I meant your daughter."

Unakna took a deep breath, then softened her countenance. "I know my daughter, Den Mother. Thank you."

She turned abruptly and left, doing her best to keep her children together. All the while she worried over her strong daughter and brave, cunning, noble husband, who had been sent into the wild lands on a secret errand with only a single stone pygmy to guide him.