"Today is the Day of the Earthmother. This starts the Week of non-violence as you all know," Grimspear, the chief elder of the tribe, continued to explain the rules of their traditions to the younger generation.

Grimspear was old. He felt it, but his knowledge needed to be passed on still. His fur was completely white from all the years he lived. Grimspear was so old that he remembered when the wolf people met the elves for the first time, thousands of years ago. He was the last of his kind. The last of those blessed by the elves.

Thousands of years ago, the elves came out of the woods, and the wolf people got close. It wasn't the easiest of meetings because of suspicion, but one elf and one wolf both saw thru to the core of the other people and found they meant no harm to the other. When the wolf peoples' elders came forward, the elves presented their Kellillarcgar, their king. When the king and the elders talked, the two groups found they had similar views of life, so they enacted a pact. Because the wolf people were nomads, the elves felt the need to bless the nomads with special skills and weapons.

Grimspear got his name because of this. He was given the longevity of the elves and a spear. Grimspear was a warrior at one point in his life, but not anymore. He vowed to never kill anything again after he became the chief.

Grimspear's longevity was coming to and end, and he knew it. He thought he should contact his old friend, the king of elves, before he died.

After explaining the rules, Grimspear hobbled, hunched over, to his temporary tent. He pulled back the tent's flap to see an orb and a simple cot. He sat down on the cot, and put the orb in his lap. He was glad that he wore a loin cloth when the king's head appeared at the old wolf's crotch.

"Grimspear!" the king's face was excited, "As old as ever!"

"Tarmance," the wolf looked lovingly into the face of his once friend, "You still look the same as when we first met."

"How have you been old friend?"

Grimspear's face turned sour, then sad, "Not good. I fear the longevity you blessed me with all those years ago is wearing off."

"You know you are more than welcome to come back to the capital. We will do whatever we can to help you," Tarmance offered.

With a hand held up to stop the king, Grimspear said, "You know how I feel about that. I will go when I go. The Earthmother wants me back in her arms. I can feel it."

The king weakly smiled, "I understand old friend."

"I just wanted to let you know that my son is..." the old wolf stopped and looked toward the exit of his tent. He could hear screaming, "Something is wrong."

The old wolf, carrying the orb, hobbled quickly out of his tent to see a strange site. Humans on horses killing his family. A human halted the horses and noticed the lack of an attack.

"Afraid are we?" The human yelled across the camp, "Shackle the strong ones and the young. Kill the old."

A wolf reached for a spear, but the chief grabbed his arm and shook his head, "No violence."

The wolf, along with every other wolf, sat down and waited for the humans to shackle them. A human came to the elder chief.

"You look older than the dirt itself, animal," the human said in an attempt to insult the wolf.

"I am older than dirt," Grimspear retaliated, "save the dirt on the mountain tops."

The human backhanded Grimspear across the face, breaking the fragile wolf's jaw and cheek bone.

"What's that orb?" The human took the orb from the elder chief's paws and looked deeply into it, but saw nothing, "A piece of junk I'm sure."

A quick drop to the ground was all it took. Grimspear tried to grab the orb, but found that he had no hands after the human cut them off. Grimspear howled loudly from the pain. The human was annoyed, so he quickly ended it by cutting the head off of the old wolf.

"Finish getting them," the human said. He looked down at the orb. It was already on the ground, but it started to crack randomly. It snapped totally in half, and purple smoke came out of it.