"Loss is nothing else but change,
and change is nature's delight."
~Marcus Aurelius

"What...?" Ishan asked confusedly, awake at last. He got up, steadying himself on a tree branch nearby, and looked around. He let out a sigh of relief. It was just a dream. Then, he saw the wolves from his dream. Except, they weren't the wolves from his dreams. Not exactly, as they were much friendlier, somehow. He took out his dagger from the compartment on his sandal—just in case—walking at a steady, slow pace towards the wolves.

They must've sensed the instrument, must've known it was generally used to kill, because they scurried around their hurt in panic. One—clearly one of the cubs—, even tried to stand up for the pack, growling and, or so Ishan thought, hissing at him.

For some, completely unusual reason, Ishan found this somewhat amusing. It's always the little ones expected to stand up for themselves. Never the others; they just stand by and watch as the other gets beat down.

Briefly, Ishan felt a wave of power come over him. He would kill these wolves, cubs and all. He smirked.

His hands, without letting them, cramped outward. He dropped the knife. Ishan shook his head. What in Hades? He muttered a curse. Snap out of it! He thought, Mother wouldn't want this. He paused, eyes widening. Mother? He did not know of a—

He stopped. Epona. Diana had said that Epona was his mother. But was she not a Celtic goddess? Those were just stories, myths, even! But somehow, as he thought back to how he had healed Jade with the help of Ariel, he knew it must be true. Besides, if the Hindu myth was true...

That must mean that the Greek and Celtic gods existed among the Romans, did it not? He would consult Jade about it later, after she woke up.

He stopped himself, somehow, from fainting, and looked at the hurt wolf. He knew very well that once it was free, it would either run, or defend itself in fear. He also knew which was more likely.

Ishan walked slowly, after retrieving his dagger, towards the wolves.

Once he reached them, the young started biting at him, but it had no effect; their canines were not yet grown.

He ignored their tantrums and found the wound. There was an arrow shot through it's foot. At first, Ishan thought to pull it out. Then he realized the consequences. He took his dagger—which upon seeing, the cubs whined and scrambled about—, and sawed the remaining wood from either side of it's paw.

The wolf flinched, jerking it's head up, but did not fight with Ishan. He must know I'm doing him a favor, Ishan thinks. He puts one hand on the canid's gut, steadying him, and pressed the wood downwards, out of the paw. The wolf let out a cry. Pain? Relief? Ishan did not know.

He took his toga and pressed a clean area of the cloth against the bleed. He stayed like that until the area clotted, blood stopping. By the time it did, the cubs had calmed down.

Ishan walked away, feeling the eyes of the wolves on his back.

When he looked up towards the sky, he saw it was now noon.