"Strike me, Kuldun!" ordered the gravel-toned wolf warrior. The master continued, "strike me Kuldun, or you sleep in the paddock, like a sheep."

The young cub, Kuldun, sucked the crisp northern air through his razor teeth. He could not find a second wind. Youth seemed to serve him no aid against his wisened tutor. "I cannot—"

"You can!" snapped the master of the yard.

"Uncle," replied Kuldun, "I yield—"

"Wrong, Kuldun Ó Foaláin!" The master, with a lunge, knocked Kuldun to the ground. Through wiry and greying beard, he glared at his nephew sunken in the mud. "Until prone on its back, a wolf cannot quit. Rise Kuldun," said his uncle, who offered a massive palm to heft the boy.

"I will make up my failure to you, uncle."

"And you will, Kuldun, beginning today. Your father needs you outside Dún Ó Faoláin, to meet him at the bridge just north of Cill Dara. We expect a caravan to soon arrive."

"I will make sure it arrives intact."

His Uncle nodded.

Kuldun, upon a mare, galloped to meet the caravan. He passed through the artery of Cill Chainnigh, a wide and central road of his father's county. Tall conifers that flanked the path echoed each heavily planted hoof. For what sounded like Kuldun's stampede, foot traffic of journeying tradesmen and merchants parted the road, and by nightfall Kuldun arrived at the bridge. Creatures of the night made conversation. The owls debated forest lore, and crickets cheered Sanguinis and Luna's across the starlit sky. Kuldun was alone, and his mare impatient. "Yes girl," he answered her, "I think we should see if they've not gotten stuck."

Most traders rested at an inn at this hour, and only a prepared caravan could fend off creatures of the night. The young Brudvir continued slowly down the path, among trees that seemed to carry the sky like nature's vaunted hall, but far along the path, a disruptive and red haze.

A soft crackling rose into the roaring sounds of a fire that Kuldun charged to see. The work of brigands, he thought, and before him, Kuldun sensed the clashing songs of metal. The fire, pressing in upon the mare, frightened her to a halt, and Kuldun dismounted to move into the fight. "Father!" He called out. Kuldun could see the wagon of a vardo, driven into the ground by a shattered wheel, and around it, corpses. Some of them in the light garb of civilians, and others in mottled hides.

"Kuldun!" noticed his father, "stay back."

It was a futile gesture of love, as his father's very command drew the attention of brigands to his son. A pair splintered off to force Kuldun to defend himself or die.

Hit them, Kuldun easily remembered his Uncle's lessons. Training for combat was as natural for a warrior as learning to walk—but such lessons were diminished in effectiveness when his opponents were as capable Brudvir as his family. Kuldun parried the first strike, and then another, and with a great cleave, brought his large sword down through the top of his assailant's shoulder to her chest. The other brigand did not pause his attack at the sight of Kuldun's easy victory. If they had so little sense as to attack a caravan in Cill Chainnigh, then self-preservation was of little concern to them.

Hit them, Kuldun repeated his uncle's mantra to himself. If his opponent put down his guard, Kuldun would hit.. If uncle saw me, he'd be proud, he thought. Hit them. Kuldun's onslaught continued.

Fires spread around the battle. Dressed in such heavy furs as he was, the heat fatigued Kuldun. His swings slowed. Do I keep swinging? he puzzled. It became hard to breathe. Not until—on my back. Air burned Kuldun's throat, and his opponent pressed his attack.

"Kuldun!" His father shouted.

"I need you," Kuldun answered. His attacker grew rabid. Kuldun could only raise his shield, but soon, his assailant's attacks paused, and with a stuttering step backwards, he fled, and with him, Kuldun saw his father free of danger as well.

"Uncle!" Kuldun noticed the arrival of reinforcement.

"Our rangers saw the smoke, Kuldun."

Kuldun's chest rose and fell. A team of brudvir fetched water from a wagon and controlled the fire's spread. His father approached and planted a hand on his shoulder. "Did you see your nephew?" he asked.

"Not a cub anymore, Kuldun," the gravel-toned warrior embraced his nephew. "You're a Wolf now."