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I
focused
on
keeping
the
vital
interest
I
felt
out
of
my
eyes
.
"
Do
you
know
any
of
our
old
stories
,
about
where
we
came
from
-
the
Quileutes
,
I
mean
?
"
he
began
.
"
Not
really
,
"
I
admitted
.
"
Well
,
there
are
lots
of
legends
,
some
of
them
claiming
to
date
back
to
the
Flood
-
supposedly
,
the
ancient
Quileutes
tied
their
canoes
to
the
tops
of
the
tallest
trees
on
the
mountain
to
survive
like
Noah
and
the
ark
.
"
He
smiled
,
to
show
me
how
little
stock
he
put
in
the
histories
.
"
Another
legend
claims
that
we
descended
from
wolves
-
and
that
the
wolves
are
our
brothers
still
.
It
’
s
against
tribal
law
to
kill
them
.
"
Then
there
are
the
stories
about
the
cold
ones
.
"
His
voice
dropped
a
little
lower
.
"
The
cold
ones
?
"
I
asked
,
not
faking
my
intrigue
now
.
"
Yes
.
There
are
stories
of
the
cold
ones
as
old
as
the
wolf
legends
,
and
some
much
more
recent
.
According
to
legend
,
my
own
great
-
grandfather
knew
some
of
them
.
He
was
the
one
who
made
the
treaty
that
kept
them
off
our
land
.
"
He
rolled
his
eyes
.
"
Your
great
-
grandfather
?
"
I
encouraged
.
"
He
was
a
tribal
elder
,
like
my
father
.
You
see
,
the
cold
ones
are
the
natural
enemies
of
the
wolf
-
well
,
not
the
wolf
,
really
,
but
the
wolves
that
turn
into
men
,
like
our
ancestors
.
You
would
call
them
werewolves
.
"
"
Werewolves
have
enemies
?
"
