Shaman held my gaze as he waited for his answer. My nerves improved, and I blurted out, "I am my mother's son?" I shrugged like a teenager.
Shaman shook his head, "Understood." He glanced back at Ganzorig, "You're a shaman wolf." I was more of a statement than anything else.
"Yes, ancient one, I am." Ganzorig lowered herself to her knees in respect for Shaman. I had not seen anyone do so before.
"Rise, young wolf." Shaman reached down and touched her shoulder to lift her.
"But," Ganzorig sputtered in fear. She looked around worriedly before lower her body below Shaman's chest level.
"No buts," Shaman tilted her head up and smiled. "We are not in Mongolia, and you are in the presence of a friend." Shaman eyed me a moment before looking back at Ganzorig. "Who was your teacher?" He
