Oh, the ground is so cold...I'm freezing...my pelt clings to my body. I need to hunt. But not yet. I can hear the whispering. I must hear more... and tell the other wolves. Surely, I can last just a bit longer before I hunt...Oh, Lupus, don't take my spirit yet. The other wolves need to know about this. I must see my friends one last time. Faolan, Edme, the Whistler, Creakle-they need to know too, Lupus. Lupus, don't take me- I can feel my spirit drifting out of my pelt. Lupus, how could you be so cruel? Don't they deserve to know? I can't go to the Cave of Souls yet, Lupus, you must know that.
What is this, Lupus, a ladder? Of stars? No! Skaarsgard, I won't go up the ladder. Not until my friends know about the prophet and the whistling rocks. Ah, but there I would never be hungry- but it's still not my time. And there is no one to meet, no one to run with-my parents are still alive, I can feel it in my marrow. Lupus, please, please, let my spirit stay. Maybe I could guide my friends. But Lupus, why? Why must I have died? No! There is a ladder of stars hanging from the sky. Skaarsgard, I don't want to climb the ladder. I don't want to go to the Cave of Souls. Ah, but I am so hungry. Maybe I shall find out what it is like to be a star wolf. It is so much nicer up here- no beatings for being born a malcadh, or being laughed at by even the pups, or tummfraws, or those dreadful Obeas. I guess I can watch over my friends here...Oh, look- they are playing a game! Oh, I am so glad for them. Lupus is right- I must not interfere with their paths. They will find their own way, in time.