Tolikani

It was the first time that I took the shape of the coyote that I truly learned to run with the earth. There was a soft humming all around me, then a disturbing feeling that I can never fully help you to understand . Slowly I loped at first, feeling the strength in my four legs. I tasted the wind on my toungue and breathed the rich, country smells into my damp nose. My eyes adjusting to the pale dimness of the approaching morning, I saw small wildlife; rabbits, mice, lizards and snakes darting here to there, always trying to stay hidden in safety. I ran for what seemed endless hours until at last I came to a clearing with several of our elders waiting for me. "Tolikani." They beckoned me with no verbal sound; or so it seemed. It felt as if their voices were everywhere; in everything. "Come and sit with us. Listen to our story." Their voices gradually melded together to form something so melodius that I began to enter a trance. " It is now the day of your manhood. You have chosen to become 'ánt'iihnii. This way will not be easy. You will be hated and feared for what you will become. The spirit of the coyote is intertwined with your own lifeblood. You will be yee naaldlooshii; He who goes on four legs. Like many 'ánt'iihnii and many who will come after you, you must learn to balance this power with discipline and restraint. The sight is strong with you and could easily turn your heart as black as ash. There are darker evils than this but none as dangerous to your spirit. Always hide your shape away from others. You must never allow another skinwalker to see the change. To do so would allow vulnerability. If this happens you must track them without end. You must stop their lifleblood and consume each of their eyes as well as their tounge and ears. You will grow strong for theirs is power to be had. Remember these warnings Tolikani, and never reveal our secret." Slowly my eyes began to open, even though I had not known closing them. I gazed about the clearing noticing things from the perspective of my human senses. Once again I remember not changing back. That night was many, many moons ago for now I am an old man. I can remember their voices so clearly; magical and pleasing. I remember the sight of them vividly; wise old men wearing the pelts of their spirit companion; Wolf, Bear, Mountain Lion. That night was many, many moons ago for now I am an old man and the wise old men have not returned to me. I lay awake at night as the night sounds of our village find my ears. Fires crackling, mothers hushing children, men laughing and talking. If I listen hard enough I can almost hear the other night sounds; Creatures scurrying about, the wind gliding through the branches of the pines, the cool running creeks that dot the hillside. And if I truly listen I can almost hear the sound of those few old men, promising me the things that I want so badly. The things that cause me to stir and shiver at night. The things that hide in the darkest places of my spirit. If I listen hard enough....