It was certain, at least, that some Folk never discovered their tail name, and died knowing only the other two. Many said that a cat who had lived with the Big Ones-with M'an-lost all desire to find it, and grew fat in ignorance. So important, secret and rare were the Folk's tail names, and so hesitantly discussed, that nothing much about them was actually agreed upon. One either discovered this name or did not, said the Elders, and there was no way to force the matter.

On the night of the Naming, Fritti and his littermates were led by their mother to the special Nose-meet of the Elders that preceded the Meeting. For the first time Fritti saw Bristiejaw the Oel-cir'va, and old Snifflick, and the other wise Folk who protected the laws and traditions.

Fritti and his siblings, as well as the litter of another fela, were herded into a circle. They lay hunched against each other as the Elders walked slowly around them-sniffing the air and sounding a deep rumble that had the cadence of an unknown language. Snifflick leaned down and put his paw against Tirya, Fritti's sister, and brought her to her paws. He stared at her a moment, then said: "I name you Clearsong. Join the Meeting." She rushed away to share her new name, and the Elders continued. One by one they pulled the other young out of the pile where they lay breathing shallowly with expectation and Named them. Finally there was only Fritti left. The Elders stopped their circling and sniffed him carefully. Bristlejaw turned to the others.

"Do you smell it, too?"

Snifflick nodded. "Yes. The wide water. The places underground. A strange sign."

Another Elder, a battered blue named Earpoint, scuffed the earth impatiently. "Not important. We're here for a Naming."

"True," Bristlejaw agreed. "Well…? I smell searching."

"I smell a struggle with dreams." This from Snifflick.