“Chronicles of the Pride Lands” and “The Spirit Quest” shine like jewels on black velvet. A pair of beautifully cut gemstones that gleam with their own inner light, showing us hope, promise, and happiness. And like all jewels, they have many facets, many faces in which one can peer and perceive a distinctly different view of the world. Most are pure and clear, offering a unwavering view of what should be. And there are others which are flawed, offering an uncertain picture as to what the future might hold for us. And then there are those that are dark, giving nothing, promising nothing, and leaving us filled with doubt.
      Yet what makes the jewel so beautiful? Perhaps it is the sparkle we see, the contrast of light and dark impressing itself on us. For what is the darkness without the light to give it shape? And in turn, what would the light be without darkness to give it definition? This is the very essence of the jewel. And this is the center of “Shadows of the Makei,” that glimpse into the flawed darkness of one facet that makes us perceive the beauty and clarity of the light all the more.
       David Morris, Wilmington, North Carolina
       December 15, 1996
 
      As many ideas pulled from Chronicles of the Pride Lands appeared in The Spirit Quest, many ideas pulled from Spirit Quest appear here. These are different views of the same world. As such the works are complimentary but do not heavily overlap. This work is a separate story, but it would be vague and difficult to understand if you had not read Chronicles first, then Spirit Quest.
      This work contains a lot of dark, frightening imagery. But it is not a work about dark, frightening things, any more than the Christmas Story is about finding a room in Bethlehem. Those who concentrate on the dark miss the point. We all have our source of strength. We all have the right to tap into that strength. If you learn anything from this work, perhaps it is this: prayer is not a measure of last resort but rather a first line of defense. Do not cower in the shadow of a Makei when you can step into the light.
       John Burkitt, Nashville, Tennessee
       December 15, 1996

      From everlasting to everlasting, the Circle of Life rolls on, encompassing all beings from the tiny termite to the tall elephant. It permeates them, entwining itself through their physical forms of Ma’at into their essences, the Ka itself. It is a stream, whose current binds all of Aiheu’s children together and sweeps them gently toward him.
      But there are rocks in that stream. Rocks that resist the flow, stirring up eddies. And some of the larger ones create still pockets where all manner of unwholesome things grow tucked away from the tides of change.
      Two leaves were swept downstream. One slipped safely by the rock. One spiraled in the eddy, being pulled toward the rock where helpless it felt the first signs of decay taking hold in the stagnant pool of its confinement. It looked below and saw the sludge of withered leaves that lined the bottom, those who had lost forever the power to float. That’s when the despair took hold, and it rarely struggled against its fate as it sank lower and lower into the water.
      On the quiet savanna a meerkat was standing guard while his neighbors were enjoying a sunbath. Suddenly a shadow passed over the ground and a chill wind swept him. The guard looked around but saw no one. He glanced up, expecting a large bird of prey, but there was none. With growing horror he watched the shadow amble along the ground with no owner and he trembled. As soon as he could find his voice, he yelled, “All down! All down!”
      Within seconds, all of the meerkats had taken refuge in their burrows including the guard who huddled next to his wife and young, shivering too violently to explain. The shadow of a makei had fallen upon the land.
      But the dark ka of Melmokh was not after them. Slowly, stealthily he approached young Taka, the son of King Ahadi. Melmokh had followed him since the kingdom was promised to Mufasa. He fed off Taka’s heartbreak as a jackal shredding the warm flesh from a kill.
      Melmokh felt his wandering days would soon be over. Driven from love and joy by an agony he could not understand, he sought peace among the angry and the grieving. He sought to harness Taka’s pain, drawing strength from it while it was still fresh.
      “If I’m not careful, the child will soon forget his misfortune,” he thought. “I must strike while the prey is weakened. Something that will not cripple him, only shame him.... Maybe a scar, perhaps?” He trotted ahead of Taka and looked back over his shoulder appraisingly. Taka’s eyes were soft and bright and beautiful. “An eye. Yes, an eye! It would freeze the hearts and turn the stomachs of the females. They would stare at it--they couldn’t HELP but stare at it!” Melmokh laughed coldly. “Be careful, little cub! Accidents can happen!”

      Wind fingers fondled the golden savanna grass as pup voices of giddy joy bubbled from the hyena den. Shimbekh gamboled out, with her sister Kambra close behind. They rolled in the friendly grass, sparring and wrestling in a flurry of high spirits. Their muti (mom) looked out of the burrow, a tolerant smile on her kindly face. "You know it's time for your nap."
      "Aw, Muti! Can't we play just a little while longer?" Shimbekh asked. She put on her best long face.
      "Don't show me those Gazelle eyes, young lady! I know all the tricks. And don't go plotting something with that sister of yours. I can't hear your thoughts, but I’d know that look anywhere."
      "What look?" Kambra thought.
      "I don't know," Shimbekh thought back.
      "Do you think she can really tell?"
      "Let's see." Shimbekh looked at her muti right in the eyes and concentrated.
      "Oh no you don't!" her muti said with a laugh. "I know when you're up to something, and you’re up to something! Guilty thoughts left their tracks all over your face!"
      She seized Shimbekh by the scruff of the neck and hauled her into the den. Kambra followed dutifully. There would be no reprieve from nap time.
      Life for the hyena pups was as warm and soft as the fur on their muti’s side. Muti would keep them clean and well fed, and Maleh (Dad) would tell them wonderful stories of midnight hunts under the silver moon. Giddy games melted into quiet naps, and always the love and care of their parents hovered around them like a warm hug. In those days, there was food enough for everyone, and each new day was an exciting step on the trail to adulthood.
      Nature was their companion on the trail, working wonderful miracles that the jaded call “growing up,” a term that falls far short of the mystery and beauty of life unfolding. Very soon, too fast for their okash (mother), they had outgrown the den and spent their days in rough and tumble games. The naps soon ended, at least the enforced ones. Short puppy legs began to grow at an alarming rate. Shimbekh teased Kambra about her sticklike legs, heedless of the changes that were sweeping her own body.
      A dry season scorched the grass into submission, then a rainy season turned the dry fields to mud. From the healing drops sprang new life. Antelopes and wildebeests grazed on the new grass. Some prospered, others lost their hold on this world, leaving sustenance for the clan. Shimbekh and Kambra availed themselves of the abundance, giving up their muti’s milk forever, and with it their brief hold on infancy. Time had passed.
      As their strength of muscle and sinew developed, so also grew their mysterious and wonderful link with the spirit world and with each other. Other feelings were growing as well, awakening thoughts that were both frightening and exciting.
      It began as an idle curiosity about the opposite sex. Then in timid stages it finally blossomed into a healthy desire to find a mate and found a family.
      Like everything else, the sisters began this search together. After spending time looking over some of the young males, usually more amused than impressed, they concluded that the clan was about the worst place to find a husband! This only changed when they checked out Gur’bruk, a fine up-and-coming male.
      Kambra thought to Shimbekh, “Boy, I could sure sneak away with HIM and be his play toy for an hour or two!”
      Gur’bruk looked around and his eyes half closed. He thought back, “You name the place, Sweetcheeks.”
      Her eyes grew large. “He heard me!”
      His eyes widened. “She heard me!”
      Shimbekh began snickering. “Way to go, play toy!”
      Gur’bruk smiled and winked, and without a word he raised his chin and strutted away.
      “Handsome AND a mystic!” Kambra gushed, following him with her eyes. “And with hips to die for!”
      That was no mere puppy infatuation. Kambra fell for Gur’bruk and soon he heartily returned her love. They would sit for long moments, gazing deeply into each others eyes to taste the love that flowed freely between them like water from a crystal spring. Indeed, they rarely spoke aloud, but they shared everything, including the plan to share one path through this life and beyond.
      Shimbekh could feel the beauty of his love for Kambra, and she longed to rub slowly along his warm, strong body and kiss his finely chiseled face. But her love for Kambra restrained her. She often hid when she saw Gur’bruk coming so her eyes would not betray her feelings. And yet her pain was not lost on Kambra or Gur’bruk.
      Kambra felt badly about it. She went out of her way to spend extra time with her sister, trying to soothe her aching spirit and recapture the fun of childhood games.
      In return, Shimbekh promised Kambra that nothing would come between them, wishing her a happy life and many strong pups. Shimbekh meant what she said, but Kambra looked beyond her words to feel her frustrated longings. Kambra nuzzled Shimbekh and said, “If I ever die, you must take care of him. Promise me you will.”
      “Oh Kambra!” Shimbekh nuzzled her back. “You must never die. Don’t even say it, Sis.”

      Kambra’s ears twitched. She bowed her front legs and wagged her tail playfully. “Come get me if you’re big enough!”
      Gur’bruk laughed. He sprang forward, flailing at her with his paws. Kambra blocked him with effortless skill, seeking an advantage. The moment she saw an opening in his defense, she bounded up and put her forearms around his neck, trying to force him to the ground.
      Gur’bruk and Kambra were so in tune that their contests ended in draws. Still, Kambra managed to catch him off guard, and with a mighty shove of her back legs pushed him to the grass where she pinned him, panting and laughing.
      “Let me up!”
      “No!”
      “Let me up, Kambra! You won, all right?”
      “It’s not that simple. Do you want to surrender?”
      “What are your terms?”
      “Does it matter? You’re stuck.”
      “Good point. So how much is this going to cost me?”
      She gazed into his beautiful hazel eyes, then rubbed his face with hers. “You beautiful thing, I want to bear your children.”
      “I’ll have to think about that,” he said with mock coldness.
      He took advantage of her momentary surprise, and with a quick thrust of his paw easily pushed her off. She fell to the grass and looked up at him pleadingly. The time for games was clearly over.
      He gently nuzzled her recumbent form as she lay in the grass, then he settled down next to her with his head resting gently on her side. “Kambra, why ask me for something you already have? You know my heart is yours. It’s only a matter of time till you have the rest of me.”
      “When, Gur’bruk? When?”
      He laughed softly. “You name the time, my little play toy.”
      “Oh Gur’bruk!” She reached lovingly with her paw and began to fondle his handsome face and neck. “Is tonight too soon?”
      She looked at him quietly for an answer, and his feelings were clear to her. She drew comfort from his warm affection and held him close to her. “What did I do to deserve such happiness? I love you so much. More than life itself!”
      He smiled and closed his eyes. “Kambra, our love is life itself. I was born on the day you first loved me, and I will die on the day you stop.”
      “Then you will live forever.”
      The boughs of the acacia tree hovered over them protectively, dappling the lovers with light and shadow. A mild wind caressed them with its cooling embrace, and they soon drifted into a contented sleep. Theirs was a happiness without blemish. As the poet La’kresh said:
 
Look to me only with your heart
Let no outward guise of earth
Hide the purity of my love.
Time consumes, the grass may wither
But we shall spring up with the rains
Before the feet of Roh’kash!
 
      Suddenly a hot wind from the east swept over them like an angry hand. Kambra stirred and opened her eyes. She saw her sister Shimbekh approaching, her gait burdened with sadness and her eyes dark with worry.
      Quietly, gently, Kambra eased out from beneath Gur’bruk’s head and pillowed him lovingly in the soft grass. She ran on silent pads to intercept Shimbekh.
      “Sis, we were in the middle of our nap. Can’t this wait?”
      “Come with me.”
      Gravely, Shimbekh slinked away out of hearing range. She led Kambra into the shadow of some bushes.
      “Now what’s wrong? You look terrible, Sis.”
      Shimbekh looked away, afraid to meet Kambra’s eyes. “I love you, Kambra. If the wild dogs came, I would be first in line to die for you.”
      “And I would die for you. But you didn’t come out here to talk about dogs.”
      Shimbekh took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I just had an awful vision.” She hung her head. “It’s so terrible!”
      “Is it Gur’bruk? Is he in danger?”
      “Not Gur’bruk.” She kissed and nuzzled Kambra. “Sis, forgive me!”
      “Well, out with it!”
      Shimbekh moaned. “If you marry Gur’bruk, you will bring forth a son who will be the downfall of our people.”
      “What??”
      Shimbekh bent her head lower and moaned. “Sis, believe me! I have carried this thorn in my heart for hours--hellish hours when I wished I could die, just die! I could not bring myself to speak it, but if I am silent I will betray my own people and you as well!”
      “Shimbekh, you’ve had a nightmare. That’s all!” Kambra kissed Shimbekh and smiled coyly. “Everything’s going to be fine, Honey Tree. Don’t you think I would have been warned? Why would the gods put that burden on you?”
      “I don’t know. Perhaps you couldn’t believe it.”
      “I DON’T believe it--it’s just a dream! That’s all it could be, for it doesn’t make sense.” Kambra began to pace around nervously. “Gur’bruk is good, and our love is pure and deep. Our children will be born from love, raised to love and follow God. I’m sorry to see you upset you, Sis, but I’m going to marry Gur’bruk this very night.”
      “But you can’t! Oh gods, you just can’t!”
      “Shimbekh! I just can, and I just will. Now I know how you love Gur’bruk, but he does not love you! I’m very disappointed in you, Sis--I didn’t think you would try something like this, not with your own sister!”
      “It’s not my jealousy speaking! I swear! Oh gods, how I wept over this--wept tears of blood!” She rolled miserably on the ground. “Kambra, I love you, and I want you to be happy, even if it is with him! Look in my eyes! Look and see for yourself!”
      Kambra studied Shimbekh’s eyes. Her hard set jaw relaxed and her expression changed to concern. She nuzzled Shimbekh.
      “I’m sorry I doubted you. I believe you had a bad dream, and I believe it seemed very real. But you must understand that it’s your love for him talking. I don’t hold that against you, really I don’t.”
      “But it’s not a dream! I was awake! You have to warn him!”
      Kambra became cross again. “Look here, Sis, you better not breathe a word of this to ANYONE else, ESPECIALLY my Gur’bruk.” She tried to calm down. “Wait and see our children. You’ll see. If there was some danger, love could overcome it. Now we’ll be doubly sure to love them every chance we get.”
      “I know what I saw!”
      Kambra raised up sternly. “Go home, Shimbekh! Leave us alone!”
      “I love you, Kambra!”
      “I love you too, but right now I’m upset. Go, Shimbekh! Go home!” She bared her teeth. “Go home before I say something I’ll regret!”
      “I’m scared, Sis.” Shimbekh slinked away, sobbing. “Please don’t hate me! Please! I’m so scared!”

      Shimbekh trudged home despondently. She was afraid to go to her parents with such a strange tale of prophesy and doom. Besides, if there was the slightest chance she was mistaken, she would not want them to know. Even if she were not mistaken, she would not want to break their hearts.
      There was only one source of comfort left to her. Since she was a small pup, her spirit guide had never let her down, though she had never relied on a spirit for companionship. She needed to ask him about the vision, and she was angry with herself for not consulting the him before upsetting Kambra.
      Sitting alone by the den she had once shared with her sister, she stared off into space, looking at nothing in particular. “Urikh hom dalem,” she said. She began to chant it repeatedly. “Urikh hom dalem, Urikh hom dalem....” The words meant, “Anoint my spirit,” but they began to lose meaning as the chant washed away the tracks of her troubling thoughts, blending into a sleepy surf breaking upon a mystic shore where time and space had no meaning, and there was only the Eternal Now. “Urikh hom dalem. Urikh hom dalem. Urikh hom dalem....”
      Before long, she had fallen into a receptive state. A golden mist surrounded her.
      “What would you see today?” the voice asked.
      Her jaw began to quiver. “You.”
      “Me? Do I sense idle curiosity, Shimbekh?”
      Tears flowed down her cheeks. “No. I’m so alone! I have no one else to turn to! Please tell me your name. Let me see you.”
      “Are you sure? I mean, wouldn’t it remove all the mystery?”
      “Who needs more mysteries? I don’t know what’s real anymore!”
      “All right, but you may be disappointed.”
      Something began to materialize from the mist. At first there were two bright spots in the haze which formed into hazel eyes. Fear shone in those eyes, the fear of becoming vulnerable. But Shimbekh plead with those eyes, and her gentle coaxing brought out a face--and soon the body--of a hyena.
      “Oh!”
      “Well, I’m Brin’bi,” he said shyly. “You were expecting something spectacular, and you got me. See, I told you that you’d be disappointed.”
      “No, not at all!” Shimbekh smiled shyly. “I like you much better that way. I can talk TO you, not AT you.” She looked into his soft eyes and felt kindness flow from him the same way it came from Gur’bruk, only this kindness was hers. She wanted to touch him, but wondered if she could--or should.
      “You may try,” Brin’bi thought to her. “I don’t know what you’ll feel.”
      She abandoned spoken language and let her thoughts fly freely to him.
      “I think you look beautiful, Brin’bi.”
      “Well, uh, thanks. So do you, Shimbekh. So beautiful, and so sad. You really need a friend.”
      She almost cried. “Can you stay for a while?”
      “I have all of eternity.” He yawned as if to prove the point and settled into a sphinx. “So Shimbekh, you’re on the outs with your sister, are you?”
      “Brin’bi, tell me it’s not so!”
      “Honestly, I don’t know. There are forks in our path, but I believe we choose to go left or right.”
      “Then you can’t tell me what to do?”
      “I can only give advice. Remember how much you love your sister, and whatever happens, be there for her. That always works.”
      “I’d do anything for her.” She sighed. “I’m so depressed thinking about this. Let’s talk about you for now--please?”
      “About me? What’s there to talk about?”
      “Dozens of things! How old are you? Do you have a home? How did you die? And are you a real hyena, or just taking that shape to please me?”
      He smiled. “Does my shape really please you? That’s the way I used to look. I was born near this spot. I was almost your great grand-okhim till I caught a hoof between the eyes. I never even felt pain.” He sighed. “I guess I went left where I should have gone right. As for where I live, I guess this is my home now. And since I became your spirit guide, you’re the closest thing I have to a steady date.”
      Shimbekh smiled. “I like that. Why don’t I consider you my steady date too?”
      Brin’bi broke into an embarrassed smile. “Why not! When my friends ask me what’s happening, I’ll have something worth reporting.” He laughed softly with a beautiful laugh that made his eyes shine. “This will help my reputation, being seen with a pretty female.”
      “Am I really pretty?”
      “No. You’re really beautiful--that goes deeper.”
      Shimbekh smiled. “I feel much better now. Thanks so much.”
      “For what?”
      “For being my friend. And for just being you.”

      Kambra married Gur’bruk that night beneath a full moon, which all agreed was a sign their love was eternal. Indeed, all who knew them felt inspired by the depth and purity of their joy. And all were happy for them except Shimbekh.
      Kambra’s muti asked, “Where’s your sister?”
      “I don’t know. I don’t think she was feeling well.”
      “Not feeling well? I don’t have the gift, but I can always tell when you’re not being honest with me. Guilty thoughts leave tracks all over your face.”
      Kambra nuzzled and kissed her. “We had a little disagreement, that’s all. Tomorrow we’ll rub and make up.”
      “Well I hope so. She should have been here anyway. That’s not like her.”
      The next day came, and the sisters did not make up. Kambra immersed herself in Gur’bruk’s affections, trying not to think about Shimbekh, and he respected her wishes. And so for days Shimbekh’s name did not pass between them. Still, in her private prayers, Kambra would beg Roh’kash to heal her sister of her strange madness in long, tearful missives uttered lying on her back.
      Shimbekh, once so happy and carefree, spent her days in prayer and fasting. Before long ribs began to show under her once sleek coat. When anyone asked her why--and few ever did--she would predict the downfall of the clan. Only Brin’bi had the patience to hear her words of desperation again and again. He was all that held her together during those lonely days.
      Kambra watched her sister’s suffering, and her heart was pierced by the haggard, unkempt ghost that haunted the fringe of the clan. For the longest time, she was afraid to confront Shimbekh again. But the sadness inside her grew until it could no longer be hidden away or denied its wish. With a deep sigh and a faint heart, Kambra stepped in front of Shimbekh and tried to paw her face.
      Shimbekh pulled back. “So you remember who I am?” she said disparagingly.
      “Let there be no more ill will, Sis. I came to tell you I am with child.”
      Shimbekh’s anger was forgotten. Tears of grief came to her eyes. “So happy, my dearest Kambra? Oh gods!”
      “Sis, you’re not well.” Tears came to Kambra’s eyes. “Come with me, honey tree. I have a fresh kill nearby. Don’t you want to eat something?”
      “How can I eat? Everything I love is being destroyed right before my eyes! Kambra, love your daughters, but by the blood of Roh’kash, you must not allow a son to live. Your son will torment you and bring destruction upon us!”
      “Are you going to start that again??” Kambra started to scold her once more, but she stopped and looked in Shimbekh’s eyes. Such misery cried out through them that she shuddered.
      Shimbekh wept again. “I love you, Sis. I want you to be happy. You know I do. If I could break the curse with my own death, I’d be glad to die. You do still love me, don’t you Kambra?”
      “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I love you.” She shook her head balefully. “I don’t know what foul spirit brought this madness, but there’s no truth in it. Gur’bruk wants a son and I will give him a son if Roh’kash wills. Someday you’ll forget that dream, but I can’t afford to wait that long.”
      Shimbekh fell before Kambra and rolled on the ground. “Oh gods, Sis, you don’t understand! He’ll put a thorn in your heart! He’ll destroy you and Gur’bruk! He’ll take away your happiness!” She panted, her gaunt and fragile body strained close to the breaking point. “I’m trying to help you, Sis! Promise me you’ll at least pray about it!”
      Kambra shook her head. “You’re mad! You’re stark raving mad! Pray, Shimbekh. Ask for Roh’kash to heal you. I’ve prayed for you every night, and I’ll pray with you now if you like. Come, kneel by me, Sis, and we’ll fight this thing together!”
      “No!! Poor fool, you’re the one that has to fight this thing!!” Shrieking in torment, Shimbekh ran into the bush.
      She ran straight to Roh’mach Amarakh who listened sympathetically as she related her wild-eyed prophesy of doom and darkness. Amarakh loved Shimbekh and was worried about her--most everyone was--and she was glad to find out what was wrong. But she knew Gur’bruk and Kambra too well to see any harm in their love.
      “What do you want Kambra to do? Kill the child? Because you say you saw a vision?”
      “I DID see a vision. We have to do SOMETHING. We can’t just sit on our haunches and watch our world swept away!”
      Amarakh nodded. “I agree. I will keep my eyes on this situation. In the meanwhile, do nothing. Do you hear me, Shimbekh? If you act on this further without my assent, or speak to anyone of this talk, I will be VERY upset with you and you will be looking for another clan. Understand?”
      “Oh, I understand, Roh’mach. You think I’m mad--so does she. But just you remember when night falls on our people that I warned you before the sun set! I warned you!”

      Gur'mekh and his sisters Bath and Mer’bel were born to a beaming Kambra. She fondled them and looked deeply into each of them with her inner vision. Bath and Mer’bel continued to take their first meal at her warm side. But Gur’mekh stirred and looked at her with unseeing eyes. Even on his first day, there was no doubt about it--he had the gift. Gur’bruk looked at his son with wonder, then he nuzzled Kambra. “They were born as the sun rose. It is a good sign.”
      “Are you happy, okhim?”
      “Yes, okash.”
      Gur’bruk climbed out of the den, up into the morning sun. As he looked east bathed in crimson light, the morning breeze swept his body, fondling his ears and crest. He threw his head back and cried out in his unbridled joy. “I’m a father!” he shouted in common speech. “I’m the luckiest person alive!”
      “So you’re a father!” an ostrich cried, surrounded by a flock of a dozen small, squabbling chicks. “The novelty soon wears off.”
      Lost in his reverie, Gur’bruk watched the enormous disk of the sun climb into the purple sky, gilding the acacias and turning the grass to flame. In an ecstasy of thanksgiving, he uttered his morning prayer:
      “Lend your light to anoint my eyes, Great Mother (Roh’kash) of us all! Open my eyes and let me see the wonder of your works! There is the mountain, lofty and noble, capped with snowdrifts jasmine white. There is the restless meadow grass. There is the crash of mighty thunder, and the whisper of a heartbeat. Who shall place a value on these things? Who shall understand your heart, O Mighty Roh’kash? One like you whose heart is full of love, and whose feet walk the true path of righteousness.”
      Never before and never again would that traditional aubade feel so much like whispering fresh love words right into the ear of God.
      On a sadder note, Shimbekh was not allowed to be present at the birth for fear she might do something desperate. It was the one blemish on an otherwise perfect morning.

      Time passed, and Kambra’s pups grew to the age where they could come out and meet the pups from other litters.
      Bath and Mer’bel liked to play with young Jalkort and Fabana. But Gur’mekh had little patience with those who could not hear his thoughts. The one exception he made was for Lenti, a female that he was infatuated with. Lenti could have cared less about him or his puppy affections. Gur’mekh held even his own sisters in mild disdain, preferring to stay home and hang on his Muti and Maleh.
      Gur’bruk was afraid his son would not learn the social skills he needed to rise in the clan and find a mate someday. And so reluctantly he told Gur’mekh to go play with the others and not to come back home till Bath and Mer’bel returned. “You need to get out of the den and stretch your legs! Now go be a good boy, OK?”
      Gur’mekh was not upset. He resented the enforced “play” but knew his maleh’s gesture was meant well. He trudged off to try and amuse himself alone, maybe to find a springhare a or meerkat to chase.