“Does that mean I will soon find the one—” Soaring Hawk looked up as he spoke. The hawk was gone.
Soaring Hawk shrugged his shoulders and turned to Wolf. “He would not have answered me anyway. A spirit guide cannot predict the future, only reveal what is inside.”
The Indian dropped to one knee and pulled the dog close. “You seem to know where we are to go, so I will trust you, S’unka,” he said, using the diminutive form of his name.
Wolf placed one large paw on Soaring Hawk’s leg and nuzzled against him. The man ruffled the thick fur on the animal’s neck.
“Come,” he said. “Show me the way.”
Wolf barked and bounded off into the forest. Soaring Hawk picked up the rolled robe and trotted after him.
* * * *