Clifford answered easily, "Because what we are here to discuss is something that will affect us all deeply and profoundly, and the decisions must be made with clear heads by the leaders of those that have chosen you to lead them. This cannot be a hasty, or ill-informed decision. It will be hard, and you as leaders must bear that burden upon your shoulders, not the shoulders of the people you lead."

Some of the tribal leaders were taken aback by the councilman's words, as if he were offering them some open insult, while others rubbed their chin in thought.

Clifford's not as ungifted as I first thought, Celestino thought to himself with a smile. He had squarely put the burden, blame, but also the pride and accomplishment of the upcoming decision squarely on the tribal leaders' shoulders. And pretty much called them cowards if they chose to hide behind their people.

Slowly, one by one, the tribal leaders got up from their chairs and walked up into the seats of the meeting hall. They met with people individually, asking them to please leave. They shook hands, gently urged, using all their gifts of persuasion to clear the room.

After an extended period of time, even the last elderly tribal woman in her seat eventually got up and slowly made her way out the door, taking no notice of how long it took her to take her slow steps towards the door. If Celestino didn't know any better, he'd say she was taking her sweet time and to the hell fire pit and void with anyone who had anything to say about it. He couldn't stop himself from smiling.

Once the room was finally cleared, Clifford himself locked the doors, closing the council leadership into the hall together.

"Now that the theatrics are over and done with," a fellow Hopi councilwoman said a bit tersely, "Do you mind telling us what this is all about?"

Clifford didn't answer right away, but instead sat down heavily in a chair facing the various tribal leaders. He exhaled slowly in a deep sigh, "I have asked you here tonight to help me with a question. One that I didn't even know needed to be asked, or one that had been forgotten to be asked over the long years."

"Oh please, will you stop with this ancient sounding round about babbling?" one of the council women said. She was young with long black hair and her face showed no lines of age, though she spoke with authority gained only through experience. "Save that for the tourists and outsiders, speak plainly."

"How can I speak of legends and monsters except in round about babbling?" Clifford shot back quickly. He smiled and shook his head, "What would you say if I told you I had been met by one of our legends come to life, speaking of truths that only our legends tell of?"

"What are these truths and monsters you speak of?" The Navajo President asked.

Clifford answered the president, but looked over at Celestino, "The truth of a city beneath a mountain. Protectors against demons far to the north west, and the agreement between those peoples and ours."

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The Navajo President muttered something in his native tongue. The rest of the Navajo leadership looked to him not knowing what he said but knowing that it meant something.

Clifford continued, "We Hopi have our legends and one is that a great battle took place long ago. The site of that battle is believed to be Mt Shasta in California. The battle was between our gods and heroes to protect the world from demons. After our side was victorious, the demons were banished to a place which is now called Crater Lake. I have been visited by the descendants of those heroes and they live there, under the mountain still."

"Do you really expect us to believe that some ancient legend is real and that you were visited by the peoples from that legend?" one of Hopi councilman asked. "You would have been better off to say you were visited by aliens," he scoffed irritably. "This is why you brought us out here? To listen to ghost stories?"

"If they are just ghost stories," Clifford responded, "then why do our brother and sister tribes of the Four Corners and the South west still teach children of the ones that shouldn't be named? The ones who come in the night and steal life and change their very shape?"

"Do not soil our traditions for your own selfish ends!" One Navajo spat. "What stories we choose to tell our own is no business of yours, nor is it to be spoken of here."

Clifford opened his hands to them in a sign of friendship, "I meant you no ill will or to soil your traditions. But we keep these traditions for a reason. Every Tribe here has fought desperately against the change of the Americans and the west to keep some small part of who we are alive. I'm telling you, with open and clear mind, that I have met with legends and they spoke of a coming battle against ancient enemy's and hinted at our worst ghost stories come to life."

The room grew quiet. It was Celestino who finally broke the silence.

"We, all of us here, have traditions of the great animal hunters and spirits, the wolf especially. The story of how the wolf brother taught us how to hunt, how we shared in their strength and power, to become the hunters that our ancestors were. We all know those stories. What we have forgotten is how we learned to speak with the wolf brother. When last I went on my dream quest, I was reminded of the first time our people came into contact with meat and the act of killing that made it possible."

"What does this have to do with anything?" asked another medicine man. "What is this decision that Clifford is talking about? Let's get down to business, what do you need money for, councilman Takala. Come on, stop the nonsense, story time is for children, I don't see any children here."

"I thought I was here to see a group of leaders and protectors of the culture of a people," a clear voice said from behind Clifford. "Unfortunately, all I see is a room full of bureaucrats."

All sound was sucked from the room as the entire room, even Clifford turned around to face the owner of the voice.

Standing at the top of the assembly room next to the locked front doors stood a beautiful brown woman. Her black hair hung loose around her shoulders. To her side stood several men and women, one of which looked like she had barely entered womanhood. What caught everyone's attention was the mostly black wolf sitting calmly at the top of the stairs, her golden eyes gazed calmly at the natives in the hall.

"This is a closed session of Native tribal leaders," The Navajo President said, "we must ask you to leave."

"How did they even get in here?" another native asked.

"We've been here for quite some time," Ansuya said calmly. "But even my patience has its limits."

She looked at the medicine man who had spoken last, "You want to know what councilman Takala is selling? You want to know what he and Celestino are talking about?" She gestured to the wolf besides her.

Aceso slowly made her way halfway down the stairs.

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