Liora and the Hidden Rainbow — All morning, a young wolf pressed her nose through the alpine grass, searching for a way to send her happiness over the far peaks. Read the full story →
All morning, a young wolf pressed her nose through the alpine grass, searching for a way to send her happiness over the far peaks. Liora had heard the valley pups coughing in the cold mist below, and she wanted to give them the warm, fizzy feeling that filled her chest when sunlight struck the high stones. The wind smelled of pine sap and snow. She dug beside flowers, pawed at moss, and nudged every bright pebble, but joy would not fit in her mouth.
Then her paw slipped on a plain gray stone half-buried in the grass. Under it was not an ant nest or a worm tunnel, but a folded ribbon of color, cool as creek water and humming softly. “Oh,” Liora whispered, “you were hiding in the quiet place.” She touched it with one claw, and rose, gold, and blue sprang up around her paws.
Liora leaped. The ribbon followed, stretching from ridge to cloud, from cloud to valley, until the pups below laughed so loudly the mist shook apart. Ever since then, rainbows rise in great arcs over mountain country, because the first one was too joyful for one wolf to keep; if you trace those sweeping bands, can you spot where Liora’s leap began in the grass?
