The lashes of hot white and orange blazed about and the smoke played pictures in the sky. The gray matter billowed on up and dissolved at a point in the darkness. The embers threw sparks around. It was dark and cold, but the Quileutes would not sleep. Someone was missing. No one slept until every single person was home. Every now and then, a slight breeze blew in from the West and all of the tribe shivered from the chill as one. All of the Quileutes were gathered around in a solemn circle, with a small fire at the heart. Alas, not even the fire could thaw their taut positions. No one moved one inch. No one spoke. All was quiet.

A high howl of triumph and pleasure rang distantly from afar. At once, a wolf emerged from the North side of the campfire. Its matted fur was a faded grey and the muzzle was distinctly streaked with silver. The monumental wolf, however large it appeared to be, was very frail and fragile. This confused the tribe for this particular wolf was young in age. The poor soul staggered into the center of the circle, close to the fire, and gave out a low, heart wrenching howl. It was then that the tribe began to notice the marks around its body. Many more around its neck. These marks, now streaming with a dark crimson blood, were crescent shaped. Many of the witnesses sank to the ground in anguish and sorrow, weeping for the beast. Most of them gasped in surprise and terror at the gruesome sight.

One woman in particular raced out to the wolf. She was of a dark brown complexion that was stained with flowing tears. Her long, black hair flew about as she dashed unsteadily to him. The poor woman collapsed at his feet and drew him into a tight hug. She spoke quickly and quietly to him, pleading for him not to die. The cold wind lashed at the faces of the tribe, adding to the sorrow. All of the Quileutes were aware that this poor being would die. All that appeared with these marks, as they had come to know, had perished. None of them knew where the horrid marks had come from. Some of them guessed that there was some unknown type of wolf in the woods that had left these marks. This was their only answer to this mystery. They didn't know what to believe.

Before any of the tribe could blink, the wolf had vanished. The space that had held him now held a bloody man. The man gave one final word of goodbye to the woman, and collapsed. He was dead.

The distant howls of wolves were getting closer and blended in with the weeping to form a sad, sad melody. The song lifted through the trees and drifted off in all directions. Birds flew in an opposite direction, trying in vain to rid their ears of the sound. Small animals and insects scrambled into nests, holes, and tree hollows. Larger animals, such as bears and moose, joined in the song, feeling the pain and sorrow. That night, everyone within earshot of the wolves heard the melody. And on this exact night, right around when the song started to echo around the hills, a baby was born.

The mother had just given birth to the infant and was alone when she heard the soft sound of the sadness, the wolves and weeping. This woman's husband had abandoned her along the road, fearing the woman and her child. The poor, lonely, and pained mother crawled along aimlessly in the forest, searching for a way back home. The woman, who was slowly slipping away, into death, gazed upon the baby. This baby was extraordinarily beautiful. Her hair, for a newborn, was already thick and luscious. It waved in locks of chocolate curls and framed her face.

The mother threw her head back and listened to the sad song, knowing that whatever was feeling this way, whoever, was in the same boat as she was. Terror, fear, sorrow. She gained comfort in the fact that she was not alone in this state.

When the song ceased, the poor woman wept uncontrollably. The baby, however, did not sound a word. Her cries also echoed far and wide across the hills and forest.

Meanwhile, at the Quileute tribe campfire, a strong and powerful leader heard the cries coming faint and distant from the East. He slipped away, unnoticed, from the group, not wanting to be followed. This leader's name was Taha Aki.

Now, Taha Aki had been the, as some would say, alpha wolf. He was old, but this wolf had been called the Great Wolf and Spirit Man for one reason. Taha Aki brought about the reign of the wolves. The Quileutes were once only the Spirit Warriors that could rip away from their bodies and fly everywhere, control most anything. The spirits, once detached from their body, were able to communicate with animals. And once, when Taha Aki was tricked away from his human form, left without his body, he entered, with permission, a strong, majestic wolf body. But, when Taha Aki had been angered, the anger and hate he felt was too massive for the wolfs body. No, this was a mans anger. It was too human for the animal. So, the wolf, which now held the man and animal, transformed into a man. From then on, he, and all of his descendants had the ability to change into a wolf and back again.

As the great Taha Aki became so close to the weeping woman, so close that he could hear her choky breaths, he broke into a run and soon came upon the woman. To him, she was foreign, something he had never seen before. She was so beautiful to his eyes. But what shocked Taha Aki even more was the baby in her arms. He looked down upon this baby and, at once, was shocked at the beauty before him. The baby's soft brown eyes were warm and inviting and Taha Aki did a double take. How could this baby have brown eyes? She was a newborn, and newborn babies only have blue eyes until they start to change hue. He gazed upon the beautiful foreigner and could not take his eyes off her until the woman shook him out of his reverie. Still, he was amazed at the child. How those brown eyes could be so…scorching. It was almost as if she saw right through him, like she knew everything about him; everything bad he had ever done. It was almost like…this mere, puny infant on the ground in front of him…could see his soul.

The woman raised the angel child up and cried out the same word over again in a high, shrill voice. The infant's eyes threw Taha Aki for another moment.

"Moriahie! Moriahie!" She screamed impatiently at him. And then he realized that this was the baby's name. What else could she be saying? 'Moriahie', Taha Aki thought. Why does that sound familiar?' As he studied the woman more closely, he could see that she had no less than a couple minutes to live. She was bruised and bloody with scrapes all along the right side of her body. Almost as if she'd been dropped.

It seemed that the woman wanted to give him the baby. Taha Aki knew that he had a choice to make; Leave now empty-handed, and both the woman and child die, or, take the baby back to the tribe and hope that they accept her as their own. This would be a tough decision. But this baby was so irresistible and friendly.

Decided, Taha Aki accepted the baby. Once in his arms, he tilted Moriahie's head upward. Her warm eyes greeted his, somehow. Taha Aki knew that there was so much more to this infant that met the eye. He was so entranced by the baby, that he did not hear the shallow breaths of the mother fade and slowly come to a rest. The mother was no more.

Realizing this, Taha Aki threw one final glance of farewell toward the body and raced back off through the woods, towards home. The trees dashed by and bled into one another, a green rush. The ground didn't stir under his light-hearted feet. The baby in his arms giggled whenever a twig brushed up against Taha Aki's head. This caused him happiness, having something to look after. Someone to love. It felt like so long ago that he had had someone to love, to care for. His second wife had died in previous days, leaving him alone, once again.

Emerging into the clearing, he saw what had become of his tribe. The women, babies and girls were in one corner, still mourning over the young wolf's tragic and mysterious death. The men and boys were over in another, discussing the proper burial method. This scene was pitiful. It had been so very long since the Quileute tribe had been really, truly happy. All these unexplained deaths and the Makah tribe always trying to take over the territory. Day and night, the atmosphere in the village was the same; misery and pain and anguish. It had been so long.

Taha Aki let out a mighty sigh. He was unnoticed until now, but that did it. Every sad, tear-stained face jerked toward him and then down on Moriahie. Gasps of shock and horror filled the dark night air. And then, something very unexpected happened.

There was laughter. The bright, cheery laughter of women and children and even some of the men rang out, erasing all of the sadness. They circled around the baby, with hundreds of questions on their tongues.

Taha Aki was completely thrown off by this. They were…laughing. How did, all of a sudden, the dreary Quileute tribe suddenly turn into something totally different. This was happiness. There was happiness in the village once more. And they owe it all to the stranger, the foreigner, the infant named Moriahie.

But one in the tribe was not so gracious.

A/N For those of you who are wondering, yes birds have ears. My co-writer, Lois, pointed that out. We actually went to Google and researched on if birds have ears. And they do!

Anyways, I hope to get a lot of good comments and constructive critism from all of you. No 'Goods' or 'Updates', pretty please?

DISCLAIMER: Most all of this plot line is from Eclipse, and all credit goes to Stephenie Meyers.

I am so exited to see how Moriahie grows up. I actually get to make her whole childhood from scratch, with no help from the very talented Mrs. Meyers. It's going to be so much fun!

Are you wondering why I named this baby Moriahie? Well, you'll just have to find out, won't you? It all comes together at the very end, you'll see.

Much Love,

Emily (Trig)