Jester was sitting by the little brook that ran through the Holt, directly by the strange clay cliff that gave this Holt its name - Halfhill -, puddling his bare feet in the cool water. Usually, he would have been part of the hunting party, but this night the hunters had refused his taking part - like they did in many nights before. And so, the bearded, normally merry elder was alone and mused upon what he might have done wrong this time to be ignored and shunned in such a way. However, he did not have to think too long about it, for he knew all too well why. He even knew that always thinking about it and brooding would rub it in only further, making him feel more and more miserable. "Maybe it'll help, if I just remember the happy days I had many turns of the seasons ago...", he said aloud, hoping that the sound of his voice might chase away his sad and gloomy thoughts, just like a wolf's howl would chase away those superstitious humans. Closing his eyes, Jester saw himself back in the past among the tribe when Freefoot had been chief of the Wolfriders. Jester adored his chief. He adored him so immensely, that he was one of the few who showed their admiration by walking around barefoot just as their chief did. But like those others, Jester lacked the magic gift, which Freefoot had received from his sire, the Dream- singer, and which enabled the Wolfriders' chief to run free in the woods on bare feet even in the times of Death Sleep and White Cold. Consequently, Jester was bound to wear boots in those colder seasons and followed his chief on bare feet only in the times of New Green and Fall and in the often blazing heat of summer. But even as Jester lacked the Dreamsinger's gift, he was quite unique in having the knack of acting and often performing funny scenes from the daily life of the Wolfriders. No other Wolfrider had ever done things like that before; there had been storytellers, of course, but they never had played what they were telling or represented the main character of their stories, and so, Jester was, in this respect, somewhat gifted himself. Whether it was a clumsy human, who tried to stalk an elfin hunting party, or a Wolfrider who tried to catch fish bare-handed and only accomplished to hurl himself into the water, Jester came up with a funny impersonation of them all and performed his scenes regularly at the tribe's howl. He had been doing this since he was a youngster and therefore, the tribe had named him Jester, and he bore his name with pride. He enjoyed hearing their laughter, for he knew that they were not laughing at him, but at the poor tragic figures he decided to depict in one of his scenes. For many turns of the seasons he was adored and loved by almost everyone for his gift - this `almost' referring to poor story- tellers, of course, who were not able to present their stories as picturesque as Jester did.

One night, after having his regular performance at the Howl, Freefoot came up on Jester and asked "Didn't you ever want to do something good for the tribe's sake?" Jester was puzzled, for he had thought in making his tribesmates laugh, he'd do the best possible for their sake. "But how could I do better, my chief?", he asked, "It is the best I can do, if all my friends are laughing instead of quarreling or fussing about any owl-pellet they may see - and even you laughed, when I played at the Howl. So, what is the wrong I did?!" "You didn't do any wrong", Freefoot replied with a smile, "but even some of the cublings are now following some quarry's trail rather than staying in the Holt and making us laugh. I like to laugh, I really like your funny scenes, we all do; but the season of Death Sleep is creeping in closer and closer and soon snow will cover the woods. And if our store-holes would remain empty at that point, we'd surely starve to death. Therefore, anyone who's old and skilled enough must help the hunters to bring home some meat. Your father taught you how to use bow and arrow, didn't he?" Jester thought about it and recalled how delightful it had been to learn aiming true and hitting the target chosen. He sighed, and said "If you need me as a hunter, I'll do my best to bring down whatever you ask me to shoot, my chief." Freefoot nodded and smiled and then he wandered off to his sleeping-den, leaving Jester alone who could not know yet that he just decided to almost cast himself out.

The following night, Jester prepared himself to join the hunting party. He put on his old, dark leathers and grabbed his father's old hunting bow along with a quiver full of arrows. As he stepped out of his sleeping-den to face the hunting party, he first noticed their grins on their faces and heard low chuckling and giggling among them. "So, now you're playing to us the most famous story about Freefoot's first hunt, aren't you?", Fangslayer said with an ear- to-ear grin on his face, and on that, the whole group began to howl with laughter. Jester lowered his eyes and frowned. As usual, he was barefoot, but he was not at all intending to perform a parody of his chief's past. He was ready and willing to help his tribe to survive and this was the only reward? "You better stay here", Fangslayer laughed, "and tell us later, whatever funny things happened back here in the Holt as we were out stalking deer." Fangslayer summoned the hunters and their wolf-friends and, still laughing, they took off for the deep woods. Jester was still standing in front of his sleeping-den, tears in his eyes, after the hunting party had rushed off. Then, he slowly turned and went back to his den. And for the very first time, Jester did not join this night's Howl.

On the next day it was too hot to do anything, even sleeping was impossible. So, Jester put on his lightest tunic made of the thinnest leather and decided to take off for the forest lake, which lay in the very center of the woods, a large clearing being nearby. As he arrived at the lake, Jester noticed almost the whole tribe swimming in the lake or lying on its shores. He was about to turn away and get back to the Holt, as he felt a slender hand touching his shoulder. He froze. If any of his tribesmates would touch him, he or she would normally send to him in the same instant. But this time, it was different, for even the touch itself had something strange and unknown to it. "So, you are the famous storyteller of your tribe.", a soft voice said. Jester turned and beheld a fairly young, naked and - most of all - strange female, who smiled at him. "Uuuuh....", Jester tried to reply, "I... I think, one who doesn't know me might call me a... a storyteller, That's true, but, eeeh..., I don't actually tell stories, you know... I play them. I make up a scene and then I try to tell the story with both my voice and my body, talking and moving and sometimes also sending." In telling this strange elfin girl his major `duty' among the Wolfriders, Jester had straightened himself up, smiling with pride. Suddenly, he remembered what he wanted to say in the first place, and he asked: "Where do you come from, anyway, and who are you, and how do you..." "Sshhh!", the girl interrupted him with a gentle and also strangely sad smile, "one thing at a time, story-player. First of all, your tribe's hunting party found me as I tried to stalk forest deer. However, I wasn't very successful. But since the leading hunter... - Fangslayer was his name, wasn't it? -" Jester shrugged. "Anyway", she went on, "since he saw, that I wasn't unskilled in throwing my spear, he asked me to join his group. I wouldn't have dared to ask him about joining his hunting party or even about becoming a member of your tribe. I... I am not..., you see, I don't think that I'm worthy enough to ask something like being a member of a tribe of any sort." Jester was baffled. He had noticed that she was sad about something, but he did not dare to ask her, what it was that caused her sadness. But, anyway, he did not have to ask. "I have been cast out of my tribe.", she said, lowering her eyes. Jester looked at her, but he could not see anything on her or about her that might have been the reason of such punishment. He then became angry with those who dared to abandon such a being as her. "I do not know how it feels to be cast out of some tribe", Jester replied, trying to console her, "why, I have witnessed it some times within a wolf pack, but I surely never heard about one of our kin who was treated as such." The girl sighed, closing her eyes. Jester felt, that he had to do something about the girl's sadness and, meaning to cheer her up, he said: "Maybe it was for the best that Fangslayer and the others found you so that you can forget all about that dreadful place you lived in and those dreadful ones who didn't want you near to themselves and perhaps..." But Jester could not end his sentence, for the girl broke out in tears and ran away, all naked and still dripping from her swim. Only now, Jester realised, that he had said anything but the right thing. He yelled after her "Wait, I...", but the damage was done and there he stood, on the lake's shore with the whole tribe looking at him. And just like it was in the night before, Jester felt utterly useless.

After the sun had set, the Wolfriders gathered around the clay cliff, as the Howl was about to begin. Jester was attending the Howl again, but he did not at all feel like performing some funny scene to amuse his tribesmates. He felt sad and angry - with himself, that is. The very moment, that strange girl had come to him and touched him, Jester had felt a strange stirring in him, which almost urged him to try soothing her pain by all means. But instead of helping her, he had merely worsened it. He had tried to send to her, after she had run away, but there had not been any answer. Either she was not apt to sending or she simply refused to do so. Jester did not care which, for he felt that he deserved it. He was interrupted in his thoughts as Freefoot's voice demanded his and everyone else's attention. "Last night, our hunting party went out to bring down some game and carry back some meat to Halfhill to nourish us", he exclaimed, "but they did not succeed. Instead they brought something - someone else to the Holt. You - at least some of you - have already met her. I now summon Shaneetah of the tribe called Plainsrunners to our Howl so that she tells you, how she came here." Freefoot stepped aside and, as Jester already had suspected, the girl he had met at the lake stepped into the circle. She was clad in strange, thin leathers and - as especially Jester noticed - she was barefoot. Shaneetah looked around, and her eyes were filled with tears as she began to tell what had happened to her before the Wolfriders found her. "Some moons ago", she began, "I had been happy, living with my kinsfolk out in the seemingly endless plains, which lie far beyond this dark and green place. My clan - you would call it a small tribe - had been hunting together for many, many turns of the seasons. I don't remember if we did anything else but hunting and trying to survive as best as we could. It was a hard life - most of the times. But I knew, who I was and what to do." At her last words, Jester gave a start and began to shuffle his bare feet, for he felt not at all comfortable. No wonder, since he considered himself fairly useless. "But one morning", she went on, her voice low and shaky, "all our hunters, including me, went out to stalk the wild horses that run free in the plains. A whole herd of them - more than two eights and two of those beasts - was grazing peacefully, as we sneaked in to bring them down. I hid in the high grass and waited for the others' scaring the horses so that they'd run past me and I could kill one of them. But at the moment they all started yelling and jumping around and the horses dashed away from them towards me I jumped up and stepped into a long and sharp thorn which lay hidden in the grass. The thorn stabbed my foot and I cried out in pain. I could see the wretched thing sticking through the instep of my right foot. I was not able to move and the wound on my foot was bleeding badly. So, the whole herd ran past me and I couldn't throw my spear at all. On my cry of pain, Reenak, my lovemate, immediately tried to get to me, but at that point the herd turned and was now running right into his direction. He tried to dodge, to get away from the stampeding animals, but they were much faster than him. I yelled at him, I cursed, I sweared, I even tried to implore the dumb beasts to stop or run past, but it was all in vain. He didn't make it. He stumbled, then... then..." She was shaken by violent sobs now, but as Moonblossom and Raindance stepped at her side to help her, she pushed them aside, straightened herself up and went on, her voice still shaky, but with a determined look on her face: "He fell, and the whole stinking herd ran over him. I tried to be the first to get to him, but I couldn't walk, so my clansmates had been faster. They stood around his body and all I managed to see was the look of sorrow and sheer horror on their faces. At last, I had made it, I'd crawled over to him, but all I saw was a battered, bruised and bleeding lump of flesh wearing Reenak's leathers. All life had fled from him and after I had seen this, I just fainted. The others had to carry me back to our lodge. The other night, no one talked to me, no one looked at me, no one wanted to be near me. Even my mother and father shunned me. I felt miserable, desperate and lonely, for not only had I lost the sweetest and most beloved part of myself, that is, Reenak, but I also lost my dignity. Because of me, Reenak had to die. Because I cried and wailed as some double-cursed human brat instead of swallowing my pain and throwing my spear he had to die. And because of me, one of my best friends amongst us had lost his younger brother. The only things I felt around me were sorrow, accusation and hatred. And in that same night, the eldest of our clan sat together and later decided that I'd have to be cast out of the clan and, furthermore, shall no longer be accepted in any other Plainsrunner clan. They took away my decorated hunting spear which had been my badge of belonging to them. Only my leathers and feather decorations were left to me. I was forced to leave Plainsrunner territory and so I turned my steps towards the woods. And here, your hunting party stumbled over me as I was lying near some clearing, weeping over my loss." Tears had been running down her cheeks as she had been telling her story how she had lost not only her lovemate but her complete former life. But now she was standing in the middle of the Howl's circle, erect, her chin high and fists clenched, as if she was anticipating an attack by something - or someone. Jester was stunned. He tried to look at the young Plainsrunner female but he couldn't. She had been sad beyond belief, feeling guilty of her lovemate's death, she was homesick and all Jester had been able to do was trampling over her very heart and soul. Freefoot, Fangslayer, Dreamsnake, Hornbird, Fernhare, Moonblossom and the other Wolfriders had been listening without saying a word or even moving. The only thing they did as Shaneetah told her story was watching a barefooted, normally quite merry tribesmate who tried to swallow away his tears. Jester now felt all their looks upon him and so he broke the circle and ran away.

Jester did not know how long he had been running into which direction. Suddenly he skidded to a halt, for his forward momentum had nearly sent him hurling into the lake, which was quite near to the Holt. As he saw where he was - at the place where he first met and hurt a young Plainsrunner female - he threw himself onto the ground and howled out in pain. "That's all you can do???", he yelled, "Joking around or breaking others' hearts? Better run off into the woods and Recognize a treewee than going back to them!!" He was furious. He was about to hit something or rather himself, for he was now developing a strong hatred towards himself. "Why, take your dagger and cut your gizzard. No one'd ever miss you!" He was trembling and sweating as if he had run through the woods for hours. He was worn out. "Why can't I just die right now...???", he sobbed and then he lay down where he was and wept. Over his weeping he thought that he heard the soft tapping of bare feet on forest ground, as if someone had been nearby, hiding in the thicket or some bushes, overhearing his lament, but Jester did not care. He was tired and fell asleep just where he was.

An amber glow, warmth and a feeling of comfort. Jester felt, as if he was lying beside the biggest fire near the Halfhill he could imagine. In his dreams, this fire was illuminating him, an eerie figure dancing and playing his best scene to his tribesmates. Even Shaneetah was there, watching him and giving him the most loving, caring smile, making him feel even warmer. He was happy beyond belief, but then he felt that he was thirsty, he throat was as dry as the bark of the eldest oak tree in the woods and as he started to open his eyes... Light! Blazing light from overhead stinged Jester's eyes as he woke up and tried to open his eyes. He had been dreaming of fire, but just now he realised, that he was lying out in the open, the hot midday sun burning down on him. Panic-stricken, he quickly crawled over to the bushes to hide from whomever might be in the mood of catching and roasting him over some ritual fire, that is especially the humans who were more than likely to be around during the day. As Jester managed to dash clumsily into the bushes, he suddenly heard a many-throated soft, musical laughter arising from behind him. He turned slowly, blinking, and beheld the Wolfriders who were gathered around the lake shores as they did the day before. Jester tried to spot the familiar sad and gentle face of a Plainsrunner girl, whom he wanted to talk to, but Shaneetah was not among the others. Trying to regain his dignity, Jester climbed out of the bush as skilful as possible and proceeded back to the Holt. He did not know, what to tell his chief or whomever, where he had been the night before and he did not know, especially, if he'd dare to ask about Shaneeta's well-being and whereabouts. As he was thinking about all this, he did not realise that he suddenly stood in front of a sleeping-den. It was not his own den though; he did not know why, but he was standing in front of Dreamsnake's den, as if he'd known that she as an acting healer might be of some help in this matter. Jester was about to turn and go away, but then Dreamsnake's voice could be heard from inside her den. "If he did so on purpose, you would have noticed.", she said, "Especially Jester is one of the gentlest and most honest among us. He did not want to hurt you, he just didn't know about your past." Jester began to tremble. It was most obvious, whom Dreamsnake was talking to. He felt like dashing into her den, throwing himself at Shaneetah's feet and trying to apologize, if possible. But as he thought about this, he chuckled over his own foolishness and secretly sneaked over to his own den. As he began to think about how to set things straight he suddenly got an idea. He started to mold and shape his idea into a plan. Oh, how simple it was. He was smiling at himself for not realising how silly he had been not seeing how simple it all had been...

Shaneetah was sitting with the others in the night Howl's circle. Eventually she had noticed that the story-player, Jester, was missing. She did not know, if this was his usual habit, that is, not attending the Howl every now and then, but she did not dare to ask any of the Wolfriders, for then her plan of talking to Jester might have been too obvious to the others. She did not know, however, that Jester had similar plans. But he was not planning to talk, actually. Shaneetah tried to let herself sink into the concept, the Wolfriders called `the Now of wolf-thought'. Anyway, since she did not inherit Timmain's gift of survival - the mingling of elf and wolf blood - she was not able no accomplish it. But she was able to slumber, and even if this state did not make her forget what Jester had done to her - and if he had done anything wrong - it helped her relaxing.

A whole week had passed before Jester stepped out of his den, facing his tribesmates who had been most curious about his plans and actions. In fact, there were many rumours buzzing through the Holt, since Jester had appeared to have vanished, just like a strong, healthy stag would have fled from Wolfrider territory after encountering some of the tribe's bond beasts. Most of the Wolfriders had missed his funny scenes at the Howl, but no one dared to step into his den to ask him, if he would like to perform anything. Well, actually, Fangslayer had tried once, but as he reached the entrance to Jester's den, Jester had noticed his presence and had sent **Get away!!** with such ferocity, that Fangslayer felt something like a loud ringing in his head. But now, Jester stepped out of his den and as his tribesmates beheld him, there were quite different reactions from them, such as holding their breath, soft giggling or looks of understanding on their faces. "Now that's what he's been up to", Fangslayer muttered under his breath and aloud he said: "If you are looking for a young Plainsrunner female, she went off to the lake." And with a grin he continued: "I suppose you know the spot I'm referring to..." Jester sneered at him and went off for the lake, all of the tribe he had met looking after him.

Shaneetah was sitting on the lake's shore, her feet in the cool water, digging up mud with her toes. After consulting Dreamsnake, she wanted to talk to the story-player of the Wolfriders, but she felt like having consumed stale food, for her stomach had turned to a grumbling, stony and cramped ball, hard as a lump of rock. `I know that he didn't want to hurt me', she thought, `but trying to soothe a pain or treat a bleeding wound is something he wasn't able to do. Anyway, did I have the right to shoe him away and treat him as a fire-stinking human brat?? And... I do like him. Yes, that's what I know now. I do like... I... do... love him. But, then, he ran away. He shunned me. Oh, I wish he were here right now, so that I...' There was a slight rustle and a stirring in the leaves behind her and as she turned, she saw the familiar face of Jester peeping out of the bushes. Though she wanted to smile at first, her face betrayed no trace of joy, sorrow or anything else and she said: "So, you've come to talk after all, haven't you? Or are you up to do something silly ag..." Her voice faltered, as Jester stepped out of the bushes and Shaneetah beheld a fair and elder copy of her lovemate Reenak. Jester had been made genuine Plainsrunner leathers and decorations, with which Dreamsnake and some friends had helped him. Tears welled up in Shaneetah's eyes, tears of homesickness and desire. In a soft voice, Jester said: "I'd like to play a new story, and I'd like to name it `Joining of Kindred Spirits', for now I don't want you to be lonely among us strange, howling and forest-dwelling people. And since even Freefoot and the chief hunter, Fangslayer, don't appreciate my gift of story-playing, I'd rather join you in setting off for the Plains, of which you talked about as if they were like the Vastdeep Water covered with grass. I want to play this story not only to the Wolfriders but to the whole World, as I want the whole world to know, that I cannot stand being a loner amongst my tribe. I want the whole World to know, that..." Words began to fail him and Jester felt as if he had the biggest lump in his throat that could ever have been there. Shaneetah simply stood in front him, her eyes wide with wonder and tears running down her cheeks. Finally, Jester swallowed and managed to end his speech, saying with yet unwept tears burning behind his voice: "I want to know every living thing on this World, that... that...- Oh, Puckernuts, why can't it be easier to tell you that I love you...-!" Jester put his hand to his mouth as if he had burnt his tongue on one of Dreamsnake's herb teas. Then he whispered: "I felt like this from the very first moment I saw you. But I was not truly listening to what you were telling me about you. I didn't mean to..." "I know", Shaneetah said softly, approaching the Wolfrider and gently touching his cheek to wipe away the tears that were now flowing out of Jester's eyes. "You know", she went on, "I fell for you just in that same instant, but I still mourned Reenak. Dreamsnake told me a great deal about the natual turn of this world, as living things have to die at some point. Only the Firstcomers to this world have been immortal and so, Reenak's life would have ended some time, anyway. Well, he died as he tried to save me, but love means that he had to do, right?" Jester simply looked at her and listened to her. And this time he did not only hear the words, but he caught the message behind them as well. And in that instant, he knew that, whatever would happen, he'd rather risk his life than having his new lovemate being harmed by anything whatsoever. Shaneetah said: "Now that I know, that Reenak would have given his life for anyone of the Clan, as he loved each of them, I know that I am not the worthless lump of flesh I thought myself to be. And I know that I can start a new life outside of the Clan that cast me out. And I know with whom I want to spend this new life." Again, Jester comprehended the message behind her words all too well. However, her last words had been hardly subtle, so Jester had no problem understanding their message. Instead of trying to answer he simply stepped up to her and took her in a long and very tender embrace. They stood there for some time, before Jester pulled away and said, grinning: "Now this will be a story to be performed at tonight's Howl. And it will be the last time, the Wolfriders see me play any stories."

Jester and Shaneetah went off to the Plains and they lived everywhere and nowhere around the vast grasslands. Hunting was easy, game was plentiful and, almost as it had to be between them, love as a bonding force was replaced by the strongest urge to bond that ever existed among elves: Recognition. Shaneetah gave birth to an elfin girl who looked exactly like her, except for the eyes, which looked exactly like Jester's, merry and seemingly always smiling. However, Shaneetah's daughter was the first child she'd birthed and so, it was clear that it would take a long time before she'd recovered. But there were wild horses roaming the Plains, very alike those who had killed Reenak during his hunt with Shaneetah and the other members of her former Clan. Shaneetah was eager to bring down at least two of the beasts, as she said "One for the memory of Reenak and the other to get us some meat". Jester had objected, but Shaneetah had already left, and the last thing Jester heard from her was a yell: "Watch the cub!" So, Jester had to watch his infant daughter, as her mother, against all odds tried to stand against the herd all alone and too weak to fling her spear as she once used to. There was dust and so much noise that Jester was not even able to hear the wails of the child, and so he did not hear the scream of his lifemate being hurt. And he did not need to. In that instant, he felt a pain as if he were slashed in two, stinging and burning all at once. And shortly afterwards, he received her thoughts, Shaneetah's thoughts, while he was feeling her bleeding to death, inwardly and outwardly. The only understandable messages in her sending were: **re...- remember...** and **care....** Then he felt, as if he had been pushed into a cave without light. He thought as if he would never be able to smile again. Shaneetah was gone. He tried to find her body, but he stumbled across the Plains like being blind. The message of Shaneetah's final sending was now more than clear to him: oh yes, he would make sure, that Shaneetah was remembered and he would take care of their daughter. Without really knowing what to do, he turned southward. As far as he remembered, Shaneetah had said something about her former Clan living mostly in the Southern part of the plains. And now, he knew what he had to do. That was the real message behind her final sending.

Jester found the Clan's settlement, a circular group of crude leathery tents, after two days' walking. As he approached the tents, he saw large feather and fur decorations hanging above the entranceways, which exactly looked like the decorations Shaneetah used to wear. Jester realized, that this must be her Clan's lair. As he stepped closer, a fairly young male stepped out of the biggest of the tents and, seeing Jester, froze. At first, Jester was bewildered, but then he understood: he still wore the leathers made for him and so he looked very much like Reenak. `This one must've known him', Jester thought. `Maybe he's the one I'm looking for.' But before Jester could say anything or even greet him, the young Plainsrunner yelled something, Jester did not understand. Soon, the place in the centre of the circle of tents was filled with elves, all wearing leathers very alike Jester's. Jester felt a bit uncomfortable as he was surrounded by strangers and, certainly, outnumbered by them. But he did not come to fight them, and that was the first thing he told them. Then, the eldest in the group stepped closer to look at the infant, Jester carried. Suddenly, tears ran down his cheeks, and with a croaking voice he said: "So, her life begins anew." Jester was puzzled at first, but then he understood. He nodded slowly, and said: "Shaneetah is dead. She died the same way as her lovemate Reenak did. But she has told me that her daughter shall live with you so that she shall be remembered among her kinsfolk. I will make sure that my tribe remembers her just as much." And almost to himself he whispered: "I will remember you, soulmate". The Clan gathered around the eldest of them to see the child and so they did not notice Jester turning away, bidding a silent farewell and turning northward again. It was very hot and on the way, he shed his Plainsrunner-style leathers and strode through the high grass all naked. He did not care, if anyone saw him or not. And at the end of his trek, he was sure to arrive at a place, where someone would make new leathers for him. The only thing that mattered to him was a feeling rising in him, that felt almost like one of those warm and tender thoughts Shaneetah used to send out to him. The message underlying this feeling was: `You listened to your heart and you did right!'. Jester felt strangely comforted and anyone who might have seen him on his trek would have wondered, why in the High Ones' name there was a naked and smiling elf walking through the plains, carrying no food, water or weapons.

Oh yes, they had made new leathers for him, but he never again performed any scene at the Howl. He wanted to remember happier times, but remembering happy things can lead to remembering the saddest things encountered very easily. But one thing is certain: He had been able to soothe somebody's pain without being a healer. And he had been able to listen to somebody in the proper way. His heart told him to do the right thing, as he needed a to decide and the only truth he will never deny is that listening is a matter of the heart.