Tashyna howled until the urge had fled, knowing that something had changed forever. She felt loss. She felt a deep, yearning sensation. And yet, on the breeze, there blew from the west the smell of freedom.
The Smaller Man whacked the big animals on the flanks, and the wagon began trundling once more. Tashyna trotted alongside, liking that much better than the cage. More big animals in neighbouring fields stared at her. Some ran away. She tried chasing them, but the rope brought her up short.
Soon some other travellers came past headed the other way. Tashyna crossed over to look at them, and their big animals nearly went crazy.
“Crazy damn fool!” one shouted as they passed. “That's a real bloody wolf!”
“Of course it's a real bloody wolf!” the Big Man bellowed back cheerfully. “And I'm a real bloody Cherrovan! And if you've got a problem with that, you'll be a real bloody corpse!” The other travellers made off in all haste, and there was much laughter from the wagons.
The landscape changed as the road continued and the stone-covered, smoky ridge behind faded from view. Soon enough, Tashyna began to forget all about that place of stone and noise and crowds of unfriendly people. She was of the highlands, and she was going home.