The Cliffs and the Wolves

What I remember of my youth is merely a cloud in the mist. As a cub, I remember nursing by my brother's side, both of us suckling and our mother patiently grooming us. Her pelt was soft and beautiful; her fur was decorated in dark rings and the soft hide was a snowy white. Mother smelled of dirt and meat, but when my brother and I nursed she smelled of sweet, sweet milk.

She named me Aithne, because it meant "Little Fire", and according to her I was the size of a rat but my attitude was the size of our mountain. My brother she called Vahva, which meant "Strong". This name suited him well, because his paws were very large and his will even larger.

I do not remember the name of my mother.

When I was moons older, Mother took Vahva and I hunting.

"Watch closely," Mother said to us, "because this skill will be of great use to you when you are older."

She was stalking a Bork.