June sunset on a green Montana hill, the sun inching behind the Rockies bit by bit. A man and a huge wolf sit watching it, their faces growing more lined as the light fades. His hand rests gently on the wolf's shoulder: they are not master and pet, but old friends with independent lives. At one with nature around them, they say nothing, comfortable in sharing the profound silence.
A murky sliver of blood red smudges the western horizon, as blues and purples begin to dominate; a single point of light pops out, chasing the sun. The old man is Blackfoot, wearing a blue t-shirt, jeans, and Reeboks as he sits on the bare ground. His face is clean shaven, and once dark hair is long and shot through almost completely by gray. His face is somber with the weight of years. A shimmering beside him, and the wolf becomes a nude man, exceptionally tall and muscular, with blonde hair lightening to grey, a short grey beard, and dancing blue eyes. The tall man rolls onto his stomach, and his companion's hand returns to his shoulder.
"You don't know what you're missing, Running Rabbit. Sunsets are great, but in wolf form they are so much richer. There are colors no man could describe, and a pulsing of the corona that follows it over the horizon is like seeing the universe's heart beating."
"I have heard you sing of it since my boyhood, Silver Wolf, as did my father and grandfather. I could sing your song in my sleep, and probably better than you. It is only family courtesy that I pay attention any longer."
The silver head bows to the earth; snickering raises up a little dust. "Shit, you're getting mean in your old age, just like your father and grandfather. All right, I won't burden you with it again." The old man smiles.
The light fades to a blue line, and more stars emerge. A wolf calls in the distance. "You are sad, tonight. I feel the weight on your heart."
"Raising a family again is doing that, especially alone."
"You did not expect to be alone."
"I did not expect to be alone. The past fifty years have made the task more difficult than I've never known before. Raising children was easier long ago. Before the Internet, before we ceased to be a community."
The moon peeks over the eastern horizon, almost full and angry orange, reflected by high clouds. "You have the wisdom of years, and experience. Where will you go?"
"Helena. I've got a job with the university, teaching history again, the public schools are good. The world could be run from Helena these days."
The Blackfoot chuckled. "I could think of no one better the run the world. Your children will know they are different, as you did in your youth so long ago. There is more than that."
