Tower on the Hill

The tower wall was now at least two meters tall, and the base of its walls was half as thick. It had taken much trial and error, and sending Lyr and Ayodele off to lands where Man had built their own castles to see how they had done it. But finally, a method had come to light, and it seemed to work, and solve the problem of stability for upper levels.

Unlike humans, who those creatures who lived long enough to have seen them before they disappeared said walked upright on their back feet like flightless birds, wolves needed less height. The only reason she was planning it to be as tall as she was had to do with Taliesyn, and the horse’s great height. It was the stallion’s help and hard work to pull the sledges of stone and other materials up the path to the top of the hill that had made this so much more possible.

The glowing white lady circled the bottom of the tower, gazing up and pondering, before she scaled the ramp of stone that allowed her and others who lent their paws and hooves to the building process to get to the top of the wall in order to lay more material and stone. Soon, the timbers would be ready. It was just getting them up there that would prove interesting and tricky. But they’d find a way.

She settled on the northern wall, tail flicking to rest at her paws and trail over the edge as she gazed out across the plains below, and the far distant red hills to the north. It was a pleasant night, if chilly. Typical of western winters the snow would be gone by the middle of the next day, and frost would rime the ground where the sun couldn’t reach.

Her children would be three years old in Spring. How had the time flown so swiftly? Wasn’t it just yesterday that she’d been below the hill in her alcove, fading fast as the last pup – spicy, tiny Aoife – finally lay cleaned and mewling against her belly? Wondering if she’d ever see her new, perfect bundles of magic?

Her eyes slanted toward the bottom of the hill in speculation. She’d hoped to have more than just one litter; but the world hadn’t felt safe enough in the past two years since the birth of her first. She’d be old by the time autumn came, and risks would be great if she and Red sought a second litter. She could even actually die the second time.

She blew out a sigh, breath fogging on the air. She would content herself with seeing her children make their own families.

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think