"I think he desires his tail name before he has even received his face name!" said another Elder, and they all sneezed quietly with humor.

"Very well!" said Snifflick, and all eyes turned to Fritti. "I name you… Tailchaser. Join the Meeting."

Bewildered, Fritti leaped up and trotted rapidly away from the Nose-meet, away from the chuckling Elders who seemed to share a joke at his expense. Bristlejaw called sharply after him.

"Fritti Tailchaser!"

He turned and met the Master Old-singer's gaze. Despite the merriment wrinkling his nose, his eyes were warm and kind.

"Tailchaser. All things in earth's season-only given time. Remember that, won't you?"

Fritd flattened his ears and turned and ran to the Meeting.

The waning days of spring brought hot weather, long trips into the countryside-and Tailchaser's first meeting with Hushpad.

As he drew closer to his maturity the daily company of his brothers and sisters became less important to Fritti. Each day the sun was longer in the sky, and the scents carried by the drowsy wind grew sweeter and stronger. So, increasingly, he was drawn on solitary rambles outside the range of dwellings among which his family lived and slept. During the hottest parts of the Hour of Smaller Shadows-his hunger blunted by his morning meal, his natural curiosity freed-he would range through the grasslands like his brethren of the savannahs, holding imaginary sway over all before him as he stood on a hillside, grass stems tickling his belly.

The deeps of the woods also lured him. He delved at bases of trees for the secrets of scurrying beetles, and tried the strength of outer branches, feeling the intriguing breezes of the upper air swirl through the sensitive hairs of his face and ears.

One day, after an afternoon of intoxicating freedom and exploration, Tailchaser emerged from the low scrub that girdled his woods and stopped to pull a twig loose from his tail. As he sat splay-legged, pulling at the bit of branch with his teeth, he heard a voice.