Ina’s voice, quiet and firm, cut through the rising tension between father and daughter. Both heads turned to look at her. “Jenni is right,” she said softly.
“Ina?” Papa asked, sounding less like the assured patriarch that Jenni knew him to be.
“She’s right,” Jenni’s mother said. “She is different. Did you notice how the little ones hung back? Even after we knew it was her. They couldn’t say why, but they were all shy around her. It’s only a matter of time before something happens. If she is . . . what she says she is . . . she will be safer away from the group.” Ina’s voice grew rougher as she spoke, but her face retained its usual calm. Only her hands betrayed her distress at the idea. A fine tremor shook her fingers as she adjusted the baby’s blanket.
Dalton sniffled mightily and blinked twice rapidly. He swallowed hard and then nodded. “All right,” he said. “But know that if you’re ever in need, Jennilee, you can come to us. We love you. Families are forever.”
Emotion closed Jenni’s throat, preventing her from speaking. She nodded, feeling the first tear break free from her eye and run down her cheek. Suddenly, her father’s arms enveloped her in a near-crushing embrace. His once-powerful frame, now thinned and stretched by hunger and privation, trembled with emotion.
“I’m so proud of you, my girl,” Dalton whispered into his daughter’s hair.
After a long moment like that, Jenni’s papa backed up and wiped his eyes. “Sit, daughter,” he said. “Before you go, I would give you a father’s blessing.”
Jennilee wiped her eyes and did as she was told. She reached one hand out to her mother, who took it in a fierce, hard grip.
As he had done since he was first ordained, Dalton placed his hands on his daughter’s head and invoked the power of his priesthood to pronounce a blessing. He blessed her with courage, and with strength. He blessed her with the cunning that she would need to survive. He blessed her that her life as a wolf would be long and happy, and he blessed her that at the end of it, whenever it should come, she would return to be with her family in eternity. He exhorted her to be faithful to the teachings of the Gospel, that all of these blessings might be hers. He promised her that she had a Heavenly Father who loved her, and a Savior who would never leave her forgotten. As he sealed the blessing with the name of the Lord, Jenni felt a warmth come over her, and a peace deep within. From out of nowhere, the lyrics to a new, very popular hymn came into her mind:
Gird up your loins
Fresh courage take
Our God will never us forsake
And soon we’ll have this tale to tell
All is well! All is well!
Late that night, after everyone but the men on watch had gone to sleep, Jenni slipped into her wolf form and melted away into the night.
* * *
—
She didn’t go far. In fact, she went back to the place where the gray wolf and her pack had left her, and she denned there until the company decided to move onward again. The journey had been a hard one, and they were low on food and supplies. Jenni hadn’t realized just how low until she’d changed into wolf form. The whole company stank of starvation, of bodies slowly consuming themselves. She watched as the men set out every morning to try to bring back game, and watched as they came back disappointed. These weren’t mountain men, these were farmers and shopkeepers who were following their faith to a promised land.
If they made it there.
On the second night after her departure, Jenni decided to do something about it. She’d watched the men go out and come back again, and she’d observed as they made preparations to pack up and move on, empty-handed, in the morning.
While her human mind anguished to see her family and the others