On the tenth day, the clan was alive with music and shouting. The endless purple above was so clear, even clouds stayed away. So open and clear, like nothing had ever been there. Like the sky was a canvas, emptied. But in its emptiness, there was a profound beauty. It stilled my heart and widened my eyes.

  LoPa put dandelions in my hair, singing a song without words. A rich melody from deep in his gut. He kept smiling and when he stood up straight, he said, “I love Twilight in the forest.”

  Mother came outside wearing a purple skirt. Her face burst with love when she saw me. She crouched and extended her arms, her smile wide, “You look so beautiful!”

  It felt so warm. Like I had downed a bottle of Lapsan whiskey. The warmth spread through me and I ran into her arms, my smile stretching my mouth so tight and wide.

  Mother threw me into the air and I erupted with laughter. “You’re getting so big!”

  HoPa grabbed me from the air and my laughter reached a new pitch, “Too big to fly in the purple sky!” He launched me into the air so high I hung there for a moment, weightless. I saw the top of the bluesun peeking over the trees and the awe of it stopped my laughter. It was so large and so close. HoPa threw me again even higher and I twisted my body to see the redsun past MotherTree, equally large as I hung in the air and twisted away. Because of how I twisted, HoPa nearly dropped me. He was laughing but I saw an instant of panic in his eyes.

  “Put some clothes on her,” mother said.

  I was naked, freshly washed in the river. “I don’t want to!” I ran, making them chase me.

  LoPa scooped me up and he laughed with me, “You’re getting too fast for these games.” He tickled me, and I writhed in his arms. “We have the most beautiful skirt for you. I worked on it all winter.”

  “Nah uh.”

  He nodded, “Yes huh. I worked on it in secret so you wouldn’t know.”

  Mother held it in her hands and stretched it towards me. It was just like hers. A deep purple on soft fabric.

  My mouth hung open, “For me?”

  Mother laughed, “Yes, you!”

  I walked towards her and touched it. Soft. Softer than any clothes I had ever worn. Especially soft and light after the season of animal skins. Mother dressed me in it and I couldn’t stop staring down at it, barely believing it was now mine, that I could wear it, and show it to the whole clan.

  Akmuo and Medis wore matching purple vests. They were running back and forth howling. Mother laughed and then howled with them. They threw their heads back and howled over and over. I was still staring at my skirt, shocked by its beauty.

  “My little wolves!” Mother howled the last word, drawing it out. Akmuo and Medis laughed and repeated her. Saying different words while howling, drawing out the vowels.

  HoPa and LoPa wore paler vests. Theirs were also dotted by constellations in the shape of wolves. LoPa then put dandelions in all our hair, but for mother he made a dandelion crown. He bowed to her when he handed it to her, “Queen of the Wolves, queen of my heart.”

  “Flatterer,” mother laughed, then pulled him in for a kiss.

  Akmuo and Medis pretended to vomit over and over until mother chased them, laughing. They howled as they ran and chanted, “Wolves don’t kiss!” But when mother caught them, she kissed them repeatedly until they were tangled limbs of laughter.

  Then we were walking towards MotherTree. LoPa and HoPa sang. Their contrasting voices twisting together.

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  Howl all yer wolves

  Howl all yer days

  Violet up above

  Bloomin down below

  Suns gon rise

  Suns never dies

  Howl all yer wolves

  Howl all yer wolves

  We made a commotion is what I mean. We had been cast to the edge of the forest my whole life. We had been labeled other to the clan. In defiance, my mother made her presence known and my fathers lovingly joined in. Whether out of devotion or because they were troublemakers themselves or to keep us from hearing what everyone called us as we passed, I’ll never know, and the answer doesn’t matter. They gave me great joy. They sang and clapped the whole way through the village. My brothers howled every time the song called for it, and often when it didn’t. Mother howled at only the right times and I followed her lead.

  Her smile never left her face. She kept her head high as she carried me past the many hillhomes formed in rings round the MotherTree. She met every eye that turned in our direction, and all her steps were a dance. Her sword strapped to her back, reminding all that she was a warrior. The daughter of the Blade of God, who had left and returned with a foreign husband and a foreign weapon. She lived happily and loudly at the very edge of the forest, a place none at the interior had even visited.

  My mother was proud and beautiful.

  They were wrong about her. They believed she only became a god after the dragon, but she was always a god. Even if only I recognized it, she was a goddess of love and life and Death.

  We arrived with hundreds of others at the MotherTree. All dressed in purple. From deep, rich violets to pale yet ornate indigos. Circles had formed round three enormous fires made of all the dead wood gathered from the forest. It burned green with dreamleaf and moss, its thick smoke intoxicating. My eyes and lungs seemed to open wider, see more, and see it as if for the first time. Songs and dancing were going on. Mothers and fathers and children all coming together.

  It was overwhelming that first time. I was constantly overcome with awe.

  The size of MotherTree. The beauty of Her blossoming. The size of the fires and the heat they radiated. All the faces and bodies. More people than I knew were in the Wolf Clan. It was an enormous feeling, being lost in the crowd of bodies all celebrating together, celebrating the same thing.

  The smoke, the songs, the dances, the people—I became lost in the sea of sensations.

  It was all of our birthdays. I understand it’s done differently in every land I’ve gone to, but the Wolf Clan celebrated everyone’s birthdays together. The day you were born was meaningless when it comes to reckoning your age. We count only the Twilight Days, so we all age as one, on the same day, at the same moment. And that moment had come.

  I lost myself and my memories are mostly flashing images. A man painted my face with dye. Another braided my hair. Still others danced with me. Even other children played with me. We played with balls of leather, with long colorful ropes. We sang so many songs I didn’t even know but I tried to sing anyway. By the time the day had ended, my voice was so hoarse and raw from laughing and screaming that I couldn’t even talk.

  And the food. So much food of all kinds. A marvel that the clan had stored it through the winter, but there was chicken, goat, and meats I didn’t know the names of. Saknis prepared a dozen different ways. Curried or mashed or baked or stuffed with meat and other vegetables. Breads and sweet cakes stuffed with red beans. And fish. Big monstrous fish. I couldn’t name everything I ate that first Twilight, but none was kept from me. Everything shared with a smile. They treated me, my whole family, like a part of the clan. If only for the day.

  Howling set my family apart though. When we howled, faces turned to us. Unkind ones. Their sneers and the muttered words that followed would have stung me had I known that they were directed towards me.

  Akmuo and Medis knew, though. The fury simmering in Medis was radiating into Akmuo, but LoPa was there to calm them. He sang, and his voice rose over the crowd. Many voices joined in, singing of old battles that I recognized from a story my mother told us that winter. A story of our grandmother.

  Blade of God’ll get you too!

  Run run run little boar!

  Run run run little deer!

  Blade of God’s comin for you!

  The song was a rallying call. Bodies swarmed round LoPa and gave way to shouting. The warriors of the clan were loudest among the crowd. They were recognizable by the spears they held and bashed together to make the beat. Their voices rising and rising until they broke. At the end, LoPa howled so loud and clear that my body shuddered. Then all the warriors undid their long hair and howled with him, their hair forming black or red haloes. Then they took over the howling and it spread like an infection through the rest of the celebration.

  Everywhere a warrior could be seen, she would eventually break into howling.

  When LoPa’s song of my grandmother was finished, the warriors took up more battle songs and howled through them, even when the original song had no howling.

  It was a beautiful day.

  And then First Mother quieted the clan.