“But you can’t! Oh gods, you just can’t!”

“Shimbekh! I just can, and I just will. Now I know how you love Gur’bruk, but he does not love you! I’m very disappointed in you, Sis--I didn’t think you would try something like this, not with your own sister!”

“It’s not my jealousy speaking! I swear! Oh gods, how I wept over this--wept tears of blood!” She rolled miserably on the ground. “Kambra, I love you, and I want you to be happy, even if it is with him! Look in my eyes! Look and see for yourself!”

Kambra studied Shimbekh’s eyes. Her hard set jaw relaxed and her expression changed to concern. She nuzzled Shimbekh.

“I’m sorry I doubted you. I believe you had a bad dream, and I believe it seemed very real. But you must understand that it’s your love for him talking. I don’t hold that against you, really I don’t.”

“But it’s not a dream! I was awake! You have to warn him!”

Kambra became cross again. “Look here, Sis, you better not breathe a word of this to ANYONE else, ESPECIALLY my Gur’bruk.” She tried to calm down. “Wait and see our children. You’ll see. If there was some danger, love could overcome it. Now we’ll be doubly sure to love them every chance we get.”

“I know what I saw!”

Kambra raised up sternly. “Go home, Shimbekh! Leave us alone!”

“I love you, Kambra!”

“I love you too, but right now I’m upset. Go, Shimbekh! Go home!” She bared her teeth. “Go home before I say something I’ll regret!”

“I’m scared, Sis.” Shimbekh slinked away, sobbing. “Please don’t hate me! Please! I’m so scared!”

Shimbekh trudged home despondently. She was afraid to go to her parents with such a strange tale of prophesy and doom. Besides, if there was the slightest chance she was mistaken, she would not want them to know. Even if she were not mistaken, she would not want to break their hearts.

There was only one source of comfort left to her. Since she was a small pup, her spirit guide had never let her down, though she had never relied on a spirit for companionship. She needed to ask him about the vision, and she was angry with herself for not consulting the him before upsetting Kambra.

Sitting alone by the den she had once shared with her sister, she stared off into space, looking at nothing in particular. “Urikh hom dalem,” she said. She began to chant it repeatedly. “Urikh hom dalem, Urikh hom dalem....” The words meant, “Anoint my spirit,” but they began to lose meaning as the chant washed away the tracks of her troubling thoughts, blending into a sleepy surf breaking upon a mystic shore where time and space had no meaning, and there was only the Eternal Now. “Urikh hom dalem. Urikh hom dalem. Urikh hom dalem....”

Before long, she had fallen into a receptive state. A golden mist surrounded her.

“What would you see today?” the voice asked.

Her jaw began to quiver. “You.”

“Me? Do I sense idle curiosity, Shimbekh?”

Tears flowed down her cheeks. “No. I’m so alone! I have no one else to turn to! Please tell me your name. Let me see you.”

“Are you sure? I mean, wouldn’t it remove all the mystery?”

“Who needs more mysteries? I don’t know what’s real anymore!”

“All right, but you may be disappointed.”

Something began to materialize from the mist. At first there were two bright spots in the haze which formed into hazel eyes. Fear shone in those eyes, the fear of becoming vulnerable. But Shimbekh plead with those eyes, and her gentle coaxing brought out a face--and soon the body--of a hyena.

“Oh!”

“Well, I’m Brin’bi,” he said shyly. “You were expecting something spectacular, and you got me. See, I told you that you’d be disappointed.”

“No, not at all!” Shimbekh smiled shyly. “I like you much better that way. I can talk TO you, not AT you.” She looked into his soft eyes and felt kindness flow from him the same way it came from Gur’bruk, only this kindness was hers. She wanted to touch him, but wondered if she could--or should.

“You may try,” Brin’bi thought to her. “I don’t know what you’ll feel.”

She abandoned spoken language and let her thoughts fly freely to him.

“I think you look beautiful, Brin’bi.”

“Well, uh, thanks. So do you, Shimbekh. So beautiful, and so sad. You really need a friend.”

She almost cried. “Can you stay for a while?”

“I have all of eternity.” He yawned as if to prove the point and settled into a sphinx. “So Shimbekh, you’re on the outs with your sister, are you?”

“Brin’bi, tell me it’s not so!”

“Honestly, I don’t know. There are forks in our path, but I believe we choose to go left or right.”

“Then you can’t tell me what to do?”

“I can only give advice. Remember how much you love your sister, and whatever happens, be there for her. That always works.”

“I’d do anything for her.” She sighed. “I’m so depressed thinking about this. Let’s talk about you for now--please?”

“About me? What’s there to talk about?”

“Dozens of things! How old are you? Do you have a home? How did you die? And are you a real hyena, or just taking that shape to please me?”

He smiled. “Does my shape really please you? That’s the way I used to look. I was born near this spot. I was almost your great grand-okhim till I caught a hoof between the eyes. I never even felt pain.” He sighed. “I guess I went left where I should have gone right. As for where I live, I guess this is my home now. And since I became your spirit guide, you’re the closest thing I have to a steady date.”

Shimbekh smiled. “I like that. Why don’t I consider you my steady date too?”

Brin’bi broke into an embarrassed smile. “Why not! When my friends ask me what’s happening, I’ll have something worth reporting.” He laughed softly with a beautiful laugh that made his eyes shine. “This will help my reputation, being seen with a pretty female.”

“Am I really pretty?”

“No. You’re really beautiful--that goes deeper.”

Shimbekh smiled. “I feel much better now. Thanks so much.”

“For what?”

“For being my friend. And for just being you.”

Kambra married Gur’bruk that night beneath a full moon, which all agreed was a sign their love was eternal. Indeed, all who knew them felt inspired by the depth and purity of their joy. And all were happy for them except Shimbekh.

Kambra’s muti asked, “Where’s your sister?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think she was feeling well.”

“Not feeling well? I don’t have the gift, but I can always tell when you’re not being honest with me. Guilty thoughts leave tracks all over your face.”

Kambra nuzzled and kissed her. “We had a little disagreement, that’s all. Tomorrow we’ll rub and make up.”

“Well I hope so. She should have been here anyway. That’s not like her.”

The next day came, and the sisters did not make up. Kambra immersed herself in Gur’bruk’s affections, trying not to think about Shimbekh, and he respected her wishes. And so for days Shimbekh’s name did not pass between them. Still, in her private prayers, Kambra would beg Roh’kash to heal her sister of her strange madness in long, tearful missives uttered lying on her back.

Shimbekh, once so happy and carefree, spent her days in prayer and fasting. Before long ribs began to show under her once sleek coat. When anyone asked her why--and few ever did--she would predict the downfall of the clan. Only Brin’bi had the patience to hear her words of desperation again and again. He was all that held her together during those lonely days.

Kambra watched her sister’s suffering, and her heart was pierced by the haggard, unkempt ghost that haunted the fringe of the clan. For the longest time, she was afraid to confront Shimbekh again. But the sadness inside her grew until it could no longer be hidden away or denied its wish. With a deep sigh and a faint heart, Kambra stepped in front of Shimbekh and tried to paw her face.