They made little
sounds of hunger, almost inaudible, and they moved feebly, trying to
find their mother's breasts and already so weak that they could not lift
their heads.

Small chunks of fresh meat had been left beside the pups and he thought
of what the prowler's emotions must have been as his mate lay dead on
the ground and he carried meat to their young, knowing they were too
small to eat it but helpless to do anything else for them.

And he knew why there had been the appeal in the eyes of the prowler as
it died and what it had tried to tell him: _Save them ... as you once
saved me._

He carried the pups back past the prowler and looked down at it in
passing. "I'll do my best," he said.

When he reached his house he laid the pups on his bed and built a fire.
There was no milk to give them--the goats would not have young for at
least another two weeks--but perhaps they could eat a soup of some kind.
He put water on to boil and began shredding meat to make them a rich
broth.

One of them was a male, the other a female, and if he could save them
they would fight beside the men of Ragnarok when the Gerns came. He
thought of what he would name them as he worked. He would name the
female Sigyn, after Loki's faithful wife who went with him when the gods
condemned him to Hel, the Teutonic underworld. And he would name the
male Fenrir, after the monster wolf who would fight beside Loki when
Loki led the forces of Hel in the final battle on the day of Ragnarok.

But when the broth was prepared, and cooled enough, the pups could not
eat it. He tried making it weaker, tried it mixed with corn and herb
soup, tried corn and herb soups alone. They could eat nothing he
prepared for them.

When gray daylight entered the room he had tried everything possible and
had failed. He sat wearily in his chair and watched them, defeated. They
were no longer crying in their hunger and when he touched them they did
not move as they had done before.

They would be dead before the day was over and the only chance men had
ever had to have prowlers as their friends and allies would be gone.

The first rays of sunrise were coming into the room, revealing fully
the frail thinness of the pups, when there was a step outside and
Julia's voice:

"Father?"

"Come in, Julia," he said, not moving.

She entered, still a pale shadow of the reckless girl who had fought a
unicorn, even though she was slowly regaining her normal health. She
ca