Nightmist
Overview
Professor Lloyd Warner's Commentary (as heard from Alana Edwards, Black Fury Kin):
One late fall evening, while hunting with his last mate, an old frail wolf stumbled in pursuit of a caribou and fell dead. The mate sniffed and pawed the ground; she smelled dry fur, cracked skin and a faint odor of parasites, but did not understand why the wolf lay so still. Her nose lifted to the air and caught no man-scent. At last, the female knew. She whimpered and stood over the body under the soft moon, her limbs stretching and becoming bare of fur. No cry of wolf rent the night, just the quiet sobs of a naked woman. Her breast ached, but her belly displayed only the slightest swell. The old wolf could never have understood what spring would bring; it was not "now." But the woman wiped away her tears and quickly buried the body. It was a pitifully human thing to do, but she couldn't bear the thought of some greedy hunter discovering the ebony and silver-dusted pelt. She then turned to run away on four legs.
Several tribes, including the Black Furies, Uktena and Wendigo, sing the tale of a wolf they named Nightmist, a Red Talon Kinfolk who lived many, many years in the far north of Alaska. In his youth, he led his own pack. In some breeding seasons, new alpha females appeared. They mated, though these females were never there to mate next season. Nightmist didn't understand this discontinuity, nor did he think much about it. After meeting the sharp end of a moose's hooves some time later, he lost his position and latest mate to a younger wolf. Nightmist became an outsider, taking what scraps he could. He barely survived.
He lived in this manner until he met a strange brown and gray female wolf one summer. She smelled healthy, and she stood strong. She struck down the alpha female, Nightmist's old mate, but the new female did not take the pack. Instead, she stayed with Nightmist. She hunted for him: Once, she appeared to him on two legs and gave him strange-tasting meat. Nightmist did not like the two legs and the bitter flesh, but his body grew sleek and healthy with her care. Before cold came, she stood still for him. tail to the side. He licked her softness and felt very good; it was pleasant to have a mate again. She stayed close until a cold and dark sleep took him away. Today, some Garou and Kin, lupus and homid, still bear the mark of Nightmist: his fur, his bright eyes, his high-pitched howl. His spirit still hunts with the pack...or so I've been told.
So why does this wolf have a name? What warrants him a place of remembrance? Well, for starters, I'd say he's one of the more long-lived lupus Kin known; I reckon he lived more than 20 years, if I hear the tale right, and that's really odd. Plus, he led the pack for many of those years. Moreover, we Kinfolk speak so often about humans; I think it's important we not forget the wolf side of our heritage. And yes, I've got a personal reason to tell you all this, too. My mother told me the Uktena gave him that name, that when many of their women went north, they came back heavy with his children, nearly all of whom grew up to Change. Pretty good work for just one wolf! Maybe that's what made my ma head north, too.
References
- WTA: Kinfolk: Unsung Heroes, p. 108