The pack of winter wolves stayed in the vicinity of Mountain Peak and River Hills for several weeks. Star Whistle and the she-wolf saw each other every night they could. Rather, they saw each other as long as the weather allowed them to.
As soon as the first snow fell, Star could appreciate how true her friend's prayer was. She had already noticed how well the wolf could see at night. But when the snow covered the mountain, the predator revealed that she truly was one with it. Her fur blended in perfectly, even hiding her on a plain without vegetation. She moved on the virgin snow with ease, while Star's slender hooves sank hopelessly. Yes, winter wolves were the brothers of night and winter.
One night, sitting on the snow, the she-wolf asked something.
"Why do you ponies live here? Snow is not your element."
"Because there is food and water. Because we can live in peace," Star replied in pony language.
"You could live in peace elsewhere. With water and food. Less danger for your herd."
"This is our home. We live happily here."
They remained silent for a long time. It was common between the two, even though they were so young. But truthfully, these silences bored Star. Too much, for a seven-year-old pony. An idea crossed the little pony's mind. While the wolf was distracted looking into the distance, Star made a snowball.
"Hey," called the pony.
The wolf looked at her, and before she could react... SPLAT! The snowball hit her forehead. She shook her head, removing the remnants of the treacherous attack, while Star Whistle laughed heartily at her friend's bewildered face.
"Why are you attacking me?"
"I'm not attacking you!" Star responded in wolf language. "I'm playing!"
"Playing?" The wolf stood up and advanced threateningly towards Star Whistle. "Wolves play differently, pony."
Star looked at her friend with fear. What was she doing? She watched as the wolf crouched in the snow, and before the pony could realize it, she was a blur in the darkness. Star heard her growling. She wasn't speaking in wolf language, she was growling.
Star Whistle got up and ran towards the village. Her friend was going to attack her! She tried to follow a path of shallow snow, but it was of little use: her hooves sank too much and she couldn't move forward fast enough. She heard the wolf at her side a second before receiving the blow that sent her rolling on the ground. She opened her eyes to see the wolf leaping towards her with her jaws open, aiming for her neck. Star screamed, closed her eyes and tried to hit her. She felt the bite on her neck... but the pain never came. And she kept breathing.
Finally, she dared to look. The wolf had bitten the pony's neck, but she hadn't tightened her grip. She let go, freeing a trembling Star Whistle.
"I killed you, pony. It's your turn."
Then she ran off. Star watched her go. Of course, ponies played by imitating their elders: building houses, picking fruit, helping in the kitchen... And wolves did the same: they played at hunting. It was an unsettling idea, but now that she knew it was just a game... Star wasn't going to let herself lose so easily!
She ran looking for areas with low snow and protruding rocks, avoiding sinking. When her friend made a turn, the pony made a tighter curve to catch her. She jumped with all her strength to fall on the wolf's back.
"Arrrr! Die, die, die...!"
Star pathetically leaned on her friend's back, holding on with her front hooves and pretending to bite. The wolf looked at her expressionless. Star returned a ridiculous smile. Then the wolf stepped away from the pony and jumped on her, knocking her down and immobilizing her again.
"I killed you again, pony," she said.
"I can't beat you, you have claws and teeth," Star said as she got up.
"You'll never be able to beat me with my weapons," the wolf replied.
The wolf ran off again. Star pondered her words. It was true, she couldn't beat her by jumping on her like a wolf. What weapons did a pony have? Wolves were fast and deadly. Ponies were slower, but strong and resilient. She could never hunt, not even playfully, an adult wolf. But her wolf friend was very young, and only a little bigger than her.
She started to chase her. Slowly but surely she gained distance - after all, the wolf was playing, not running away. When both made a turn, Star closed in and charged with all her strength against her friend's side. Surely she could knock her down! But the wolf saw her coming and stopped abruptly. Star, finding nothing to crash against, lost her balance and rolled over in the snow.
Once again, the wolf immobilized her on the ground by biting her neck.
"You died three times tonight. If you want to hunt prey, you must first camouflage your intentions," the wolf said.
"You're very fast!" said Star, panting. "It's too hard for me to catch you and think at the same time!"
"A bad hunter pursues. A good hunter waits," the wolf replied.
Star took note of that lesson when she heard a howl from the foot of the mountain. The wolf perked up her ears to listen to it. Star did the same and understood the message.
"Your pack is going hunting..."
"Yes. It's better if you go back with your own kind, pony."
"Will we see each other tomorrow?"
"I'll call you from this very spot."
They said goodbye with a nod and headed off in opposite directions. As always, Star went back home without waking anyone up. She went to sleep, still thinking of a way to beat her friend in the game of the wolves.
The next morning, no pony understood why Star seemed so tired.
"The first thing you need to know, Star, is what the job of a healer consists of. Many think I only dedicate myself to healing wounds and illnesses, but... Star Whistle! Are you listening to me?" Plantain Hooves stomped his hooves on the ground. Star woke up abruptly.
"Yes, yes! I'm listening, I'm listening."
"You need to go to bed earlier tonight. It can't be that you come to learn from me if you can't stay awake."
Star lowered her head. Plantain was completely right to scold her.
"As I was saying," continued the old pony, "the job of a healer is not just about healing wounds and illnesses. It's much more than that."
On a piece of paper, Plantain drew a pony, which he circled and covered in shadows.
"The first thing healers do is to prevent the spirits of illness from reaching the ponies we care for."
On the same paper, he drew a shadow breaking the circle and reaching the pony.
"The second thing is, when a pony becomes sick or injured, we have to treat them until they recover."
Finally, he changed several lines on the pony to make it lie down and drew a bed underneath. "Lastly, when we can't cure someone, we take care of them and prevent them from suffering until their time comes."
Star Whistle took a moment to understand what the old healer meant. "They die?" Star asked incredulously. "But why? Aren't healers supposed to prevent ponies from dying?"
"Little one, you have to accept one thing now: you can't avoid death," he replied.
The filly looked at her teacher, with the expression of a child who had just learned that sooner or later they would die.
"Everyone dies, Star, and not even the best healer can prevent it," Plantain said. "When you know somepony is going to die, no matter what you do, the only thing you can do for them is take care of them and prevent them from suffering."
The little pony nodded, feeling that a small part of her childish world had been shattered. Plantain imagined how she felt, but it was better that way. That was the first lesson every healer had to learn, surely the most difficult to accept of all.
The old healer rummaged through his things and pulled out a large book. Inside were preserved specimens of medicinal plants, with notes and recipes.
"Let's start with the plants. This plant is a belladonna flower, and it is used for..." After a few minutes, Star had to make a real effort to keep her eyes open.
That same night, after a good nap, Star stealthily slid over the snow. Her wolf friend would be in the same place as always. And she wouldn't see her coming. It was a calm night, with a light and cold breeze coming down from the top of the mountain. The moon was full, illuminating the snow. The pony could see well that night. It was the perfect opportunity to catch her friend.
She was going to beat her in the game of wolves.
With a smile on her face, she crawled between rocks, bushes, and snowdrifts, always staying out of sight. When she was close enough, she peeked out from behind a hedge. In the same area as always, her friend was lying on the ground, unsuspecting. The wolf lifted her head a little, but didn't see Star Whistle.
Star calculated the path to the wolf's back before approaching closer. She had everything planned: She would jump on her back and throw herself on top of her so she couldn't get up. And then she would 'kill' her, and she would win the game. It was a perfect plan. It was going to work.
Finally, she arrived at the right spot. She took a quick look, to see her friend's back and calculate the jump. She positioned herself, raising her hindquarters to push off. She couldn't help but smile one last time. She was going to win this time! She calculated the jump once more, leaned slightly backward... and jumped with all her might!
...Only to land on the snow.
"Huh?"
Star looked around for her friend... and saw her at the last moment. From the side, the wolf jumped on the pony, throwing her off balance and knocking her to the ground, where she immobilized her... again.
"I killed you again, pony," said the wolf.
"But how did you see me?" asked Star, incredulous.
"I didn't see you. I smelled you. Never follow prey with the wind at your back."
"Oh, come on!" exclaimed a frustrated Star Whistle.
The wolf released her friend and lay down on the ground. The pony sat in front of her.
"It took me two years to catch my older brothers."
"Yeah... I guess so."
They spent a good while talking and playing in equal measure. Star didn't manage to knock the wolf down even once, but she was also becoming a very elusive prey. During one of their breaks, the wolf asked her:
"Do you know the answer to my question yet?"
Star remembered: She had asked her what the soul of her people said. She had thought a lot about the subject and believed she knew how to respond.
"Yes. Ponies don't have a soul like yours."
The wolf looked at her, intrigued.
"Every pony is different. Have you seen the marks we have on our flank?"
"Yes. I've also seen that you don't have one," the wolf responded.
"That's it! When a pony discovers what makes them special, the mark appears. There are ponies who build, ponies who gather food, who heal, who take care of their children, who fight..."
Star stopped to see if her friend was understanding her. She responded:
"So you are driven by personal desires. That will make you weak. Wolves move with a single will."
The pony, although she didn't really expect a very different answer, was surprised by the wolf's appreciation.
"No, no, no! You're wrong! When a pony is especially good at something, why would we make them do another task for the people? Ponies let everyone do what they are passionate about. That way, they'll do it better than anyone else!"
The wolf stared at her friend for a moment. She was assimilating what she had said and reflecting on it.
"Ponies are a strange herd."
"The same could be said of you, my friend."
"Some more than others. Only a fool would talk to their hunter on equal terms."
"And only a pony would talk to another pony, right, 'hunter'?" Star replied sarcastically.
Both friends held each other's gaze. Star made a strange noise followed by a giggle. Soon, the pony began to laugh heartily. The wolf looked towards the snow, curling her lips back and showing her back teeth, and snorted against the ground in a silent laughter. They laughed for a long time. When they calmed down, Star lay on her back, looking at the stars. She remembered a question she wanted to ask. This time she spoke in the language of ponies since the wolf was starting to understand it.
"When you found me in the snow, why didn't your big brother eat me?"
"Because I told him not to."
"But you're just a filly..."
The wolf looked at her without understanding. Star continued speaking in wolf.
"You were just a pup. Young ponies obey their elders, not the other way around. Why did he listen to you?"
"Because I have one blue eye."
Star looked at her, now completely confused. The wolf continued to explain.
"In my pack, every generation, a wolf is born. A wolf that can see beyond the obvious. One that can see the soul of beings. One that can talk to the storm like no other wolf can."
Star sat up straight, looking directly at her friend, mesmerized by the story.
"That wolf," the wolf continued, "can sense the passing of packs. And some say they can see the future. There are never two of them at the same time: when one dies, it is reborn in the next litter of pups; a pup that will be destined to become the pack leader."
"And how do you recognize it?"
"Because they always have a blue right eye."
At this point, the pony's mouth was wide open.
"It's you!"
The wolf nodded. "That's right. I'm not yet the leader of the pack, I'm too young. But they listen to me."
Star looked at her friend, realizing she was in the presence of the future leader of the winter wolves. But... "Why did you save me then? We weren't friends. Just hunter and prey."
The wolf seemed to ponder the answer for a few seconds. The breeze turned into a rather cold wind.
"The elders of my pack tell stories of ponies. They say that once you were our prey, but that you learned to defend yourself. Not with fangs and claws, but with your wit. That you can live anywhere, without having to migrate. And that some of you can control magic. I could never know your way of seeing the world because ponies still remember the time when we hunted them. But when I saw you, I knew you would listen. That you would see beyond your instincts. And I also saw..."
The wolf fell silent. Star exclaimed.
"What? What did you see?"
The cold wind increased in intensity, taking the warmth from both friends, but especially from Star Whistle.
"The storm is coming, pony. We must return to our own," said the wolf, getting up.
"But what did you see?" Star asked, exasperated.
"I'm not going to answer."
Grumbling, Star got up too and was surprised to see her friend approaching her. She stopped right in front of her and lowered her head, bringing it to the side of Star. The wolf pressed her head against her friend's neck. Star understood that it was akin to a hug for wolves, and returned the gesture.
When they finally parted, the she-wolf said:
"If the storm becomes too strong, the prey will move away from the mountain. If that happens, we'll see each other again when my pack returns."
"I'll miss you, wolf."
"Me too, pony."
"Take care, friend," said Star as a final goodbye.
The she-wolf said nothing more and began to descend the mountain at a leisurely pace. Star Whistle watched her as she walked away. She was going to miss her very much. She was the only true friend she had made, and she could only see her for a few weeks each year.
She slowly made her way back to her village, but when she saw the storm clouds surpassing the mountain, she began to run. As soon as she arrived home and closed the door behind her, the first thunder was heard. It began to snow, and the increasing wind blew the flakes in all directions. Shivering, Star Whistle crawled into bed, fighting the drastic drop in temperature.
Shortly after, the exhaustion of two nights of little sleep overtook her, and Star fell into a deep sleep.