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hind legs. She looked back to see Faolan following, but on all fours. She stopped abruptly, faced him, and lowered herself down briefly. Next, she rose up, waving her arms as she had when she had encouraged him to jump at the tree. "Two legs!" she commanded.
    Faolan stood very still. It was almost as if she could see his mind turning over what she had just proposed. He rose up on his hind legs. Thunderheart watched, hardly daring to breathe. Tentatively, Faolan took a step toward her.
    Thunderheart grunted happily and lowered herself to lick Faolan under his chin, making soft chuffing sounds.
    She spotted a low shrub with some plump berries and broke off a branch. Then, raising herself up again on her hind legs, she waved the branch in front of Faolan. She knew he loved these berries. Instantly, he was on his hind legs walking. This time he took four steps! Thunderheart was thrilled.
    He was learning and she was delighted with herself for teaching him. Cubs knew how to do this almost from the start. It was natural for them. But it wasn't natural for Faolan. She was beginning to realize that Faolan was not just an exceptional pup, but an extraordinary creature.
    By the time darkness fell, Faolan was walking on his hind legs almost as well as a cub. And, on that brink of time between the last drop of daylight and the first purple darkness, Faolan learned his best lesson. He caught a flash of white as an ermine scuttled into a burrow on the far side of a tall shrub, something he would have never seen had he not been upright. He sprang in one arcing leap across the shrub and landed on all fours, madly digging. The splayed front paw had grown stronger since he had been forced to use it. He never thought twice about it now.
    Thunderheart trotted up behind him as a storm of dirt spun through the air. Suddenly, a furry dart shot from  the nest. Faolan staggered backward and tumbled heels over tail as something lunged onto his back. Sharp digging claws. He leaped up into the air and twisted himself, trying to get rid of the horrid attacker. It was much smaller than he was, not much bigger than a squirrel, but it was strong. Faolan yelped as the sharp claws and teeth dug deeper. Thunderheart roared. She could not risk swatting the ermine from his back without injuring Faolan. They fought fiercely: The pup had just torn apart her nest and her young kits quivered in fear. If the ermine got near Faolan's neck and the vital life-pumping artery, he would be finished.
    Thunderheart was frantic. She could see that Faolan was weakening already, losing energy. This was his first real blood battle. Thunderheart tried to false charge, but the ermine paid no attention. Faolan sank to his knees, rose up again, and this time streaked toward the riverbank. In one flying leap, he plunged into the water. Thunderheart plunged in after him. She watched his head break through the surface. Red streaks coursed down the back of his neck, but on the opposite side of the river she saw the ermine slink up the steep muddy bank.
    ***
    In the den that night as leaves outside rustled with warm summer breezes, Thunderheart licked Faolan's wounds. They were not as deep as she had feared. They would heal, but she sensed a new restlessness in the pup. He did not nurse. He was done with milk. He wanted blood.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    ***
    THE GOLDEN EYES OF THUNDERHEART

    THE LESSONS CONTINUED THROUGH the summer. Faolan loved learning. He became more and more proficient at rearing up, and he could walk for extended distances upright. His hind legs were becoming very powerful, and because they were more flexible than a bear's, he could jump very high. He took a puppyish delight in showing off his leaping skills.
    There was an immense spruce tree near the den, the lowest limbs of which were almost as high as Thunderheart's shoulders when she stood. Nearly every afternoon they went to this tree. Faolan was determined to reach that limb by springing up on his hind legs.
    "Watch me!