In the beginning…

      The Clan once lived in peace across the deserts and plains, the mountains and valleys.  Our tribes were vastly different in our traditions and in our appearance, but we were all one in our connection to the Earth our mother.  Some of us hunted wild game and gathered the root and nuts of the land as we moved from place to place.  Others built large villages that stayed for generations and farmed the earth around us, nurturing it and reaping all it provided.

     We listened to our animal kin then, taking heed of the omens they revealed to us and giving thanks for each life we took to feed our families and clothe our bodies.  Nothing was wasted.  What we did not use to use for our own need was returned to the land for our animal neighbors or to feed the Earth herself.

     Then traders visited from far away places and saw the wealth our Earth Mother provided her people.  Across the lands of the clans, battles broke out as the strangers tried to take what we had out of greed and jealousy.  

     Many of our people died.  The strangers’ weapons were far superior to our own.  They were trained for war, while our people knew only peace.  They fought with hatred and fury, something no one in the Clan had ever felt before.  The strangers reveled in the death, while our people revered life.

     Fearing for the future of their people, the shamans left the villages and traveled far across the plains and deserts, the valleys and mountains seeking answers on how to save the Clans. 

     The animals heeded their call and formed a Council.  They gathered before the Goddess to ask for a way to help the people.  She listened to their request and walked the skies, thoughtfully as the spoke.

     “The People have no weapons that cannot be taken from them, no rage to fuel them in battle.”  The Goddess said, coming to stand in the center of their circle.  “They were not made for war, nor been corrupted by greed such as that drives the strangers.  What would you give the people so they might survive and protect their children?”

     Bear stood, and held out her heavy paw.  “I use my strength to protect my cubs from any that would seek to harm them.  None are as the mother bear in the drive to defend her young.  I will give them my strength so that they can keep their little ones safe.”

     “I do not have the strength of sister Bear, but none can match my courage in the face of foes much larger than I,” Badger said. “I give them that spirit to face down overwhelming odds without fear.”

     Coyote laughed and stretched lazily in the warm sun.  “What good is brute strength and courage if you have no cunning?  My gift to the people is the ability to deceive their enemy so that they can gain the upper hand.  No gift can hope to match mine.”

     “Trickery and deception?  What use are such things to such a noble people.”  Beaver said scornfully.  “I bring them the knowledge of how to build sturdy structures to protect their families, tools with which to fight the battles.  What gift can match mine?”

     Many of the animals began to argue on whose gift would best server to save the humans.  Each thought their gift was the best, and that no one else’s could top it.  Finally the Goddess raised her hands, bringing silence to the noisy crowd.

     “The People’s magic is not strong enough yet for all the wonderful gifts you have so humbly offered today.”  The animals looked at each other, abashed at the gentle scolding the Goddess so subtly presented.   “I think, perhaps, you may chose a few humans to offer your gift, one human that it is your responsibility to mentor and guide on their path.”    

     The Goddess spoke long into the night explaining how they should best guide and teach their humans, until the moon laid down to rest and the sun rose, stretching into the sky. The animals gathered together and went down from the meeting place to speak to the first shaman that had come to seek them in the far northeast.

     When they told her of the words of the Goddess, the shaman cried tears of joy.  Her people would be saved.  She hurried back to her tribe to give them the news.  The people of the Clan were very pleased.  They had lost so many of their sons and daughters in battle, they were grateful for anything that might save their people.

     The children were able to take the shapes of the animals that chose to guide them so they might run and hide from their enemies.  When the children reached the age of adulthood, and mastered the skills of their guide, they were given their battle form, a shape of neither beast nor man, but a joining of the two.  The gifts served the Clan for many generations.   The invaders would come and go, but with these skills the people were able to defend their villages and keep their peace.

     Then one year, a hard winter raged across the lands of some of the Clan, and the people became desperate, fearing that their seasonal stores would not be enough to sustain them through the harsh weather.  The women rationed their village’s food, and did what they could to stretch their supplies in the hope they could survive until spring.

     Many of the men grew afraid as the meals became more meager and gathered together to decide what was to be done.  They didn’t see why they’d been given such powerful weapons of war, only to slowly starve.  The men were certain that if they traveled beyond the land of the harsh winter they would find the tribe there had plenty.  They would use their power and take what they needed. 

     The women of the villages tried to stop the raiding parties as they prepared to leave the land of ice and snow.  This was not why the gifts were given, the women said.  The spirits will be angry.  The men did not head the warnings, but gathered on their boats and set sail to the land of abundance they knew lay just beyond the storms.

     This too went on for many generations until all the people of the Clans warred with one another for the best hunting grounds, the best farming land, the best of whatever they thought their neighbor might have.  The mothers watched their children die because or greed and the quest to own the land around them, and their pleas fell on deaf ears.

     Again the people sought the Goddess’ help, but instead of the shamans who were now almost all men and just as full of greed, it was the mothers that traveled to the desert and the mountains, the plains and the valleys.

    “The souls of your children will be lost to hatred and greed.  They will become the shadows that claw at the land like a plague.”  The Goddess said from the mountain in the sky.  “They will rip at my belly and feed on my insides.  They will become as blind and deaf to my pain then, as they are to your wisdom now.”

     “What can we do?”  The mother’s cried, bowing in supplication.

     “The women will take the children still too young yet to gain their sacred forms, along with any of the men who are not poisoned already, and leave these lands.  The animals will guide you to places of safety and you will leave symbols for those of my will to follow after you.”

     “And what of our husbands and sons left behind.”  The women cried.  “What is to become of them.”

     “They will be punished for their misuse of the gift.  From this day forth, no male child will be able to take any form, sacred or animal, past the time of his manhood.  This I say will stand until the day the magic awakens in a daughter of the clan.  Only through her pain and trials will she lead the path to the Clan’s redemption.”

     And so the mothers of the clan returned to their homes.  They gathered their young children, they gathered their daughters, and they gathered the sons, husbands, and fathers who had yet to fall to the disease that gripped their people.  They took only what they needed and left the lands of the Clan, following the signs the guides left for them on the rocks and trees.