“Do we need to do anything else, or…”
“There is the Welcoming. XXX That had become their preferred position and my mates fought over it sometimes, much to my own amusement. We lay back down and gave each other little growls as each of us sought our most comfortable spot. Like a tree or a rock, or a cloud perhaps. “That was Whitecloud, the tribal medicine man,” he told me quietly, sitting in his chair while I knelt at his feet. Maybe that’s why she found me.”
“Perhaps,” the Indian was nodding. She is welcome here, this Onijwa. But of course I wouldn’t speak unless my Master wanted me to, and he plainly didn’t. This was the essence of my life and the moment when I was most happy.
