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Wisdom, really?
It seemed like a joke. It didn’t fit Denahi at all.
Everyone in their tribe certainly treated it as a joke: Kenai couldn’t stop laughing and mocking him for days, the children thought it was the funniest joke of the season and even kind Sitka just nodded awkwardly (‘I’m sure you’ll figure it out’).
The wolf of wisdom… even when observing the totem, it didn’t really make him feel anything.
Just inadequacy. But he felt that all the time.
Denahi would only allow himself to look at his totem and think about it in the quiet moments. When he was alone, absolutely alone, and no one could see him or judge him or mock him or-
He needed to stop. He’d get into these moments where thoughts would flow nonstop in his mind and he wasn’t able to even focus, just lost in the current. Sitka understood, calling it his ‘storming river’ moment. While his older brother didn’t suffer from that, he once confided that he spent countless nights worrying about how he could better guide his family. And of course, Kenai slept like a log. How nice to be the little brother.
Denahi doesn’t remember the days when he’d been the little brother or their parents were around. To him, Sitka had always been all in one: their sole parent, protector and guide.
His totem fit Sitka so well that, once he was gone, both brothers were completely lost.
His stupidity truly knew no bounds. Not only was he unable to advise his little brother, but he also almost lost him. And then, to rub salt into the wound, Denahi had almost killed Kenai.
Even if his brother had been turned into a bear for a lesson — one Denahi took decades to fully understand, but never to accept it completely — it had been such a cruel thing to do. What if the spirits had failed? Then neither of them would have learned anything.
The result would have been another brother who lost his life meaninglessly, an (once again) orphaned cub, and the worst of all: a murderer. A brother who’d ended his only remaining family’s life.
As much as Denahi wanted to trust Sitka and the will of the spirits, this was a constant nightmare that always came back to haunt him. What if it hadn’t worked? What if it had all been lost?
Clutching his wolf necklace, Denahi always spent hours trying to calm himself. Sleep was always a failed endeavor on these nights. Wise (truly wise, unlike him) Tanana would always find him then, as if she knew exactly when the nightmares would hit.
And the old shaman would share her stories and her failures with Denahi. He never knew if it was a form of teaching or a form of consolation. Maybe it was supposed to be both.
These conversations always made him feel a little better. But the empty spot where he slept, now without two people by his side, would still come back to haunt him even during daylight hours.
Denahi missed more than ever waking up and seeing his brother(s) first thing in the morning.
Now, he woke up alone.
Denahi took longer to adjust to it all. Even longer than Kenai, and his little brother was now a completely different species.
The middle brother grieved not only Sitka’s death, but also Kenai’s own demise, in some ways. While his little brother was still alive, it really wasn’t the same. They didn’t live in the same place anymore and now they couldn’t even talk in the same language.
Though, as time passed, he realized via training with Tanana that he could understand, even if just a little. Even if it's just Kenai. And that’s all he needed.
So Denahi studied. He studied not only the ways of shamans but the ways of families. How mothers soothed their children with humming but no words. How fathers showed with their hunt of the day how much they cared for their family, with actions. How bears played and had fun. How bears fought and ignored each other.
And only then did Denahi realize how truly they were all one and the same. Kenai was the same as he’d always been. His little brother, through and through, just under a lot of fur. And once he understood that and learned to communicate with his brother — and even Koda sometimes — Denahi felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders.
He wasn’t alone in this world.
In his mind, he knew that: he had his tribe, which he’d eventually guide as the next shaman, and his younger brother was alive and well. But Kenai was still a completely different species and, try as he might, some days just felt impossible to Denahi.
It would never be the same: Sitka was dead. Kenai was now a bear. He chose to become that to care for Koda and to honor the cub’s mother. And Denahi was so, so proud of that decision. He understood how important it was. He knew it was exactly the way his brother chose to honor his totem: the bear of love.
So fitting. And so lonely for Denahi.
Now completely alone, with no brotherly council or joke on either side, he felt empty. Even while surrounded by a whole village, with many making sure he wouldn’t feel alone or spend hours by his lonesome in the wild.
Nothing could change the situation their choices led to, unfortunately. It was a difficult pill to swallow that one of his brothers was an animal, somewhere in the wilderness. In his darkest nightmares, he saw Kenai being attacked and killed. His skin was used for ceremonial rugs, and his meat cured and cooked to feed the village. Hell had to be nicer than those awful visions.
When those particular nightmares came about, Denahi would immediately set upon a trip to visit his brother. He didn’t have to explain; Tanana always knew and would let the village gently know it was one of his shaman trials. Denahi wondered if, in a way, these dreams and trips were indeed actual trials.
Sometimes Kenai and Koda were close to the village, having fun with the other bears, but at other times, he was very far away, past the mountains and into fields few humans dared to invade. Still, Denahi made the journey. Always guided by his favorite eagle, he managed to find his favorite bear, each and every time.
It took a very long while for Denahi to feel comfortable around the bears. He didn’t have an actual animosity like Kenai once did, but it still gave him goosebumps. A human, so close to animals that could kill him with a single lazy paw, who could bite him easily and leave his body in the ground.
Trying to converse with his once human brother had been the biggest challenge in his life. Denahi took shaman training so seriously because in it, he saw the possibility of hope. A way to maybe communicate again with Kenai. Really talk to him. While meditation and talking to spirits didn’t seem to help much in this endeavor, at least it made him calmer. It gave him hope that one day they would be able to talk to each other, like they did before.
Only after Tanana passes, and even then, it’s years until Denahi feels confident in his new role as shaman of the tribe.
How could someone like him lead?
To describe himself in one word, Denahi would say he was ‘lost’, well and thoroughly, all his life.
He, who had so much taken from him — his brothers, and almost his mind and his morals — and who almost killed his own sibling and still felt as lost in the world of men as the world of animals.
It didn’t feel right. But Tanana picked him — guided by the spirits — passed the mantle to him, taught him all she knew, and it was the will of the spirits.
Even going on his first solo pilgrimage to the mountain didn’t alleviate those feelings. Talking to Sitka (so rare, even if Denahi trained so much to talk to spirits) was what brought him true relief. He felt at home, talking to his older brother. His parent and his guide, in many ways. Denahi barely remembered their parents and he knew for a fact Kenai never did. Sitka had always been like a father to them, not just an older brother.
There were so many questions on his mind, but Denahi knew his time with Sitka was limited — it always was, sadly. Not only did his brother have others to guide (spirits and living beings alike) he never liked to give him easy, full answers. Even when he was alive, Sitka always wanted his younger brothers to figure things out by themselves. Always thinking of the future. Maybe he’d had a feeling he wouldn’t always be around to guide them side by side.
Denahi needed to ask the right questions. Thinking of the tribe, his first question could only be: “How can I lead them?”
Sitka’s smile was as warm and kind as Denahi remembered. It would always be a mystery why someone like Sitka died so young while his foolish younger brothers, who only made messes, managed to live long lives. Denahi wishes all three of them could have been together their entire lives.
And since Denahi knows his older brother well, he adds before the other can reply, "And please don’t say ‘be myself’.” He can’t help but mock Sitka’s serious, a bit overbearing tone he knew all too well.
Sitka’s smile turns mischievous, his eyes very much saying, ‘but you know that is my advice.’
Maybe Denahi’s desperation is too visible because Sitka decides to give further advice.
“Never think you are wise. Don’t fall into the trap of believing you’ve achieved all the knowledge there is. Pride is the most dangerous thing there is — for all beings.”
It’s nothing world shattering, but coming from his brother, everything always seemed like the best council there was. Maybe Sitka should’ve had the wisdom totem too, as a bonus. Not like it didn’t fit him.
Sitka smiles and adds, “You’re making the same face Kenai did when he received his totem.”
Denahi can’t help but laugh, remembering that day that seemed so distant, like another life. Kenai’s disappointed expression had been the joke of the entire village. Most of them agreed right away it fit him quite well, which only made the young man even more embarrassed.
It seemed impossible to Kenai that love was his totem, much less a bear, an animal he hated so much. Denahi never said anything, but he knew Sitka held the same opinion as him: it fit their little brother perfectly, in a way they couldn’t quite put into words.
There had always been a lot of love in their family. But even so, Kenai had been exceptional. He felt everything strongly: love, anger, sadness, and frustration. It was difficult to regulate his own emotions. That’s what made him so fun to play with and also so heartbreaking whenever he cried.
It wasn’t the time to tell him any of that, though. Like Tanana always said, the totem’s true meaning and role would reveal itself throughout a person’s life. Some discovered it very soon — like Sitka — and lived by it, while others could spend their entire lives lost, even knowing what they were supposed to fulfill. Denahi always thought both he and Kenai would fit into the latter group.
However, it turned out his little brother surpassed him there, too, and matured far beyond what he’d even dreamed of. Kenai accepted and lived by his totem so completely that it was admirable and incredible.
(And until his very last day on Earth, Denahi would tell the tale of his brother bear: the most beautiful and memorable tale and person that had come from their tribe.)
In yet another way, Denahi ended up alone in this as well. Lost in his life, lonely, and so behind in his learning regarding the totem.
Sitka’s words reached into his mind, like he always did after passing away, “Just like we both knew love fit him, know that wisdom is the same for you, brother.”
Denahi exhaled sharply, trying in vain to hold back tears. He always felt so ashamed of crying, especially in front of his brothers.
There was a warmth on top of his head; he knew it was Sitka’s hand. “Don’t rush. You’re only stepping into the waters now. You have all the time in the world, Denahi. You’ll live the longest of us all.”
That pierced his heart. So he would indeed always be alone?
Reading his mind, Sitka shook his head. “You will live and experience all the stories you must. Not just human stories, but animals as well. Kenai and Koda will teach you much. Your duty will be to share those with all tribes — show them how we are all the same. You’ll bridge both worlds.”
And with that, Sitka disappeared into the golden light, joining the spirits above.
Denahi still had so, so many questions. But he knew he would never get them all answered. Not only the spirits, but life itself always made sure one would never truly know it all or feel complete satisfaction always. This was the first truth he gleaned as a young man. The first step he took into finding out what wisdom was to him.
Following Sitka’s words, Denahi put more effort into socializing. He’d always been the jester of the tribe, but losing his two brothers dimmed the spark in his heart. It didn’t take long for it to come back. He’d realized how much he missed just having fun and holding events for the tribe. Denahi made sure to invite other tribes and to bring messages of hope and peace, avoiding war whenever possible.
He wished he could say it was the wisdom in him that brought people along to listen to his stories in front of the fire and cave with the paintings, but he knew it was the jokes — even the bad ones always made someone in the audience laugh. And it was fun. It reminded Denahi of how he would embellish true stories or even come up with new ones to make toddler Kenai smile after their parents passed. How these stories even cheered Sitka up after a rough day.
And Denahi realized his role didn’t have to be this serious, imposing, mysterious role of a shaman. Just like Tanana had always been herself and made sure to have fun in life, he chose to do the same. He would go on adventures with the young men (but he no longer hunted now — and he’d forbidden the hunting of bears), weave and converse with the women, play games and tell stories to the children, and he would depart on his own personal journeys to go see Kenai, Koda, and the bears.
It was only then, when Denahi was past his thirties and more concerned with learning all there was to learn so he could bring new tales and information to the tribes waiting for him back home, that he fully understood Kenai. Not quite bear speaking, as Denahi would explain to his tribe and eventual wife, but more like they could understand each other’s thoughts. Just like when Sitka appeared before him to speak. Never with words — always using their heart.
It wasn’t a mechanism that Denahi understood, nor did he care to spend time on such things. What mattered is that it worked and how happy they were to talk again with each other.
Bear Kenai, even though he looked imposing (especially standing up), was the same old sweet and generous brother he’d always been. He remembered everyone in the village and always wanted to hear stories. In the past, the bear took the news a bit sadly, but now it was all wonderful news he was happy to receive.
Denahi would never ask if Kenai missed home. The answer scared him more than the possible replies he preferred to keep in his mind.
Instead, he would joke around and play with Kenai. His little brother would always join in, and so would Koda, both very careful to never scratch or hurt their ‘human brother’.
Koda would grunt nonstop for a mile and sometimes, just sometimes, Denahi would be able to understand some things. It was never the same thing as the little (now bigger than Kenai) bear would bring a brand new story with an always satisfying end.
How ironic that Kenai would never be able to escape a jokester storyteller of a brother, human or bear.
“Why do you have that wolf necklace, anyway? Why not a bear one, Denahi? … is what Koda is saying.” Kenai chuckles as Koda is running around wildly, now as tall as Denahi.
Nowadays, Koda isn’t always there when Denahi visits, as he’s too concerned about wooing a certain bear who couldn’t care less whether he breathes or not. ‘Young love’, as Kenai puts it eloquently and laughs happily. Denahi himself had some crushes and interests in his life, men and women alike, but he hadn’t quite been in love yet. He isn’t sure if he’d ever be. Falling in love and never getting up seems more like Kenai’s kind of deal. Denahi is actually surprised Kenai doesn’t have a mate by now — though he never feels comfortable enough in asking, just like his little brother doesn’t quite seem to know how to broach the topic concerning if he’ll ever get little human nephews.
Denahi feels like Kenai should be the one with the big, loving family, surrounded by cubs out of the three of them. He wonders when that will happen for his little brother. Sitka taught him to be patient and he tries to follow in his footsteps.
“Didn’t you teach him already about totems?” Denahi asks as he attempts to file his brother bear’s fingernails, to absolutely no success.
Kenai sighs in a way that always feels too human, too nostalgic. “I did. But he doesn’t get why everyone just doesn’t have a bear one.”
Denahi understands for once Koda’s words, a fast “The best animals!” coming across from all directions.
He tries to speak to Koda, but the bear is always too hyperactive to stand around and listen, especially as he doesn’t understand human words. So Denahi decides to just tell Kenai instead, his ever reliable translator.
“It’s not like we pick the animals, Koda. The spirits do that for us. Kenai is actually quite rare, you know. It’s been decades since someone got the bear totem.” He isn’t embellishing at all; he knows by now all the current totems and the ones of the past two generations, courtesy of Tanana’s teachings.
“Hah, obviously! Kenai is special.” Koda says it so naturally, like it’s one of the truths of this world, that even Denahi is touched.
It’s a good thing Denahi understood it, because Kenai was too moved to even attempt to translate that.
Denahi decides to be nice and move on from it instead of teasing his little brother — though the instinct is always there.
“I don’t know why it’s a wolf, really. I tried to get along with them but it didn’t work out.” He laughs at the two bears’ ‘obviously’ expression. “But it is supposed to be the wolf of wisdom. Kind of ridiculous, right?” He can’t help being a bit self-deprecating there.
“Why?” Both brother bears ask.
Denahi isn’t really sure how to explain. There are so, so many reasons why wisdom doesn’t fit a guy like him at all. He is the farthest thing away from being wise or even decently smart. He’s no genius and he messed up so much in life.
“My mom says that being wise is knowing you’re really dumb!” Koda says proudly, as every one of his mother’s words is the truest gospel there is.
Both human (and ex-human) brothers laugh loudly at that. Koda gets a bit miffed but takes it well; he knows how much Kenai respects his mother — as she visits both of them every now and then to check in when they journey to the mountains.
“Your mother is pretty smart, Koda.” Denahi says it from the heart.
“Obviously. And you are too, Denahi.” Kenai translates Koda’s words.
At Denahi’s very obviously confused expression, Koda actually stands still for all of twenty seconds and guffaws something in bear noises. He then sees something far in the distance and rushes without saying goodbye. Denahi doesn’t even need to turn around to see it’s the famous bear that stole the little brother bear’s heart.
Kenai supplies a translation for Koda’s words. “He said only a smart animal knows when they mess up and does everything to make it right.” Kenai breathes in and takes the nail file Denahi made in his big bear paw. “I agree. You’re wise, Denahi. Don’t sell yourself short.”
Denahi scoffs but doesn’t attempt to argue. He never wants to waste time arguing with his brother again. He only wants to spend time happily with Kenai now.
“Maybe you can’t see it yet, but I know you will one day. I’m proud of you, big brother.” Kenai smiles in a way only a human turned into a bear could.
And Denahi really can’t seem to hold back tears when his brothers are so kind, patient, and noble with him.
Koda never learned to understand Denahi; at least, not in words. But he knew and observed his actions well and was always sure never to fear him. He was the one who convinced the other bears to let Denahi always stay with them, safe and sound. While none of the other bears let cubs approach the ‘invading’ human, Koda made sure his cubs would always spend time with him — while also making sure they knew Denahi was the only human they could trust.
That was something Denahi was never able to change. While his stories brought humans closer to bears (and some other animals that didn’t seem like threats, such as mammoths), he and Kenai never managed to make the animals feel closer to humans. They would always be the killers. The word ‘hunter’ would always be ‘murderer’ for them. Denahi felt privileged just being able to be close to them.
And once he had his own children, he understood Koda much better. As much as he loved the big ol’ bears, he made sure to teach them to never get close to any bears that weren’t their uncles. Thankfully, his wife had both the humor and sanity to somehow understand Denahi and his very strange bear family situation.
He once asked Kenai — and then never again, “Don’t you want your own family?”
It seemed so strange to him. His little brother, who loved so deeply and dearly, had been the one Denahi always expected to be surrounded by children and a big, loving family. In a way, he was. But it wasn’t his own children, but Koda and Denahi’s children who adored him and wanted to play with him always.
“I already have my own family.” Kenai replied, so full of warmth and happiness.
Denahi understood. Love was different for all. One didn’t need to find a wife and sire children (or cubs) to experience love or family. It was different for each person — and each animal.
Kenai had shown him that important piece of wisdom. If not for his little brother, Denahi would surely never have understood.
It opened his mind to other types of possibilities: different kinds of love, varied types of family, and so many types of bonds that existed in the world. Each person and animal is free to move along their own path.
And only then, Denahi stopped living as if he’d lost everything. Not at all. Rather than having lost a brother, he had gained access to yet another world. His brothers were always by his side, only in different shapes. Death would never truly separate one from the other, not when love existed.
That was when Denahi fulfilled his totem of wisdom — not fully, of course. For one can never consider oneself truly wise, as that is the exact moment they turn into a fool.