though it was cloudless, it began to rain, a soft female rain. It fell over us. I sat with her body, rocking her in my lap. Above the cloudless rain was the sun, meteor showers, and cosmic dust. I was small, sitting there, rocking death. I sang an old song. It had been Dora-Rouge’s song. It was the animal-calling song. And while I sang, the animals came to where she lay. I didn’t see them with my eyes, but I knew they were there. Wolf, thin and old, stood back away from us in the trees. He kept his distance. Who could blame him? And there was Eagle with watchful eyes. The sound of a bear,
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