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He nodded. “Yep. There are still quite a few packs living off-grid, so I always come prepared.”
Giving the page a quick scan, I found it was as Ralph claimed. At the bottom of the paper was Ralph’s signature, and below his, Viveca’s. I added mine, then lay the pen down and slid the paper toward Ralph.
“Needs one more signature.” Ralph slid the paper toward Seff.
Seff took up the pen and added his name next to mine before sliding the paper back to his uncle.
“Desarae?” Arteisma tugged at my arm. “Temporary means for a little while, right?”
“Yes.”
She grinned. “What do we do now?”
I gazed into her deep brown eyes and saw no fear there at all. To Arteisma, this had become an adventure.
“We get you packed.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
After returning tomy yurt, I pulled out two large duffle bags and filled them with the twins’ clothing, shoes, and personal necessities while Seff entertained them. It was important everyone left in stages to avoid a parade of trucks through Red Lodge. The first two trucks had left already, one refrigerated truck loaded with the carefully wrapped bodies of our murdered pack, followed by another truck filled with all their possessions, labeled and marked, ready for distribution to each wolf’s closest kin. Ralph had promised to make all the necessary calls, see to the reorganization of the pack trust, and arrange for a Ceremony of Grace to honor all our dead.
Arteisma laid a small stack of craft paper on the table. “What do we do at a Ceremony of Grace?”
Seff took a sheet of paper, folded it into a small square, folded it again and again, making creases as he explained, “Well, first, everyone left in your pack gathers ’round, out in the open, under the stars. Usually, the Alpha presents the ashes, says a few words, and afterward, everyone goes off and does their private ceremony or in little groups.”
A frown crossed Arteisma’s face. “Who’s gonna do our Ceremony of Grace since Poppo Cole died?”
“I’m sure another Alpha will see it as an honor to do this ceremony for your pack.” Seff made a few more little folds on his paper. “Anyway, before the ceremony, you write down memories of the loved one who passed on. If you want, you fold the memories into shapes—I like to make wolves—then you gather some leaves, a handful of kindlin’, and small chunks of wood for a fire. You toss the memories into the flames and send them into Grace.”
He held up the paper he’d been folding—a perfect, tiny origami wolf—and placed it in Arteisma’s outstretched hand.
She smiled and said, “It’s so cute.” Her sweet smile turned sad. “I want to do this. Will you show me how to make a wolf, too?”
Seff leaned close and kissed her head. “You betcha, doodlebug.”
Nereida took a sheet of paper and began the folding steps to mimic what she’d seen Seff do. “What kind of memories?
“The best. Your favorites. Things that make you smile when you remember them.”
His fingers twitched like he wanted to help Nereida properly fold the paper into a recognizable shape. He glanced up at me as I finished packing the last of the twins’ clothing. I shook my head. If—when—she wanted help, she’d ask.
Arteisma set the little paper wolf on the table and braced her chin in her hands. “All my memories make me wanna cry.”
“Sometimes the best memories, the happiest memories, make you cry the hardest, doodlebug.” Seff tapped Arteisma’s nose with a finger. “But that’s only at first. After a while, sometimes a long while, it doesn’t hurt so bad to remember. There’ll be days you forget to remember, and that’s okay, too. When somebody loves you, and suddenly they’re not there to share that love with you anymore, all the love you have for them gets kinda bottled up inside with nowhere to go, and when it comes out, it’s almost always in tears.” His big hand took Arteisma’s tiny one. “It’s okay to cry.”
