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The sound of new shoppers at the door convinced me to withdraw my forepaws, but not too swiftly. I tried telling myself that it was in order to let Darkstar move to greet them, welcome them, ask if he could help them find anything, rather than that I was embarrassed to be found by strangers, holding forepaws with two other fursons who were (for all the strangers knew) just standing there, with no other purpose than to be a tableau of some kind. I was able to split the difference a bit, and my slightly splayed ears and gently drooping tail signaled to Lightwing that my pretense was entirely in my head and not the least necessary. I managed to smile at her as she drew a little closer to me, putting her arm around my waist.

"How about we blow this pop stand?" She did a pretty good imitation of Humphrey Bogart, and it surprised me as much as the line itself.

"What movie is that from?"

"I have no idea, or even if it really is from a movie." She grinned at me. "Darkstar informs me that later generations turned it into 'popsicle stand' because they didn't know what 'soda pop' was. Supposedly, the original is from a Bogart movie."

"You do Humphry credit," I told her, returning the grin. "What next?"

"Come with me."

Taking my forepaw firmly into her own, she led me to the front door as Darkstar escorted the new visitors further into the shop. He cast me a glance as we passed him, and again I had that feeling of benevolence in his presumably enigmatic smile. I still felt the warmth of his hug as I returned the smile to him. Somewhere over my shoulder, I had the sense of a black tiger-like shade hissing at the lynx like an angry housecat. The image made me want to chuckle, and the shadowy spirt cowered from me.

Back outside, the fresh air felt bracing, and I took in a particularly large quantity of it. Lightwing looked at me in gentle amusement.

"You look as if you're starved for oxygen."

"I don't get this much quality of air in the city." I released her forepaw and made a show of patting my chest in a wonderful reenactment of the old cliché. I stopped short of actual chest-beating like a feral mountain gorilla, if only because I saw a car approaching slowly, looking for space to park near the other cars, and I didn't want just anyone to see me being so exuberant. Still some restraints, I thought, but better.

The Husky looked me over and seemed to like what she saw. It should have been no surprise to me that I enjoyed having her look at me that way. That cop, the one I was trying to set aside for a little while, really did feel like a weight on me, and I felt free here. More Kool-Aid, maybe? With another chest-full of crisp, clean air, I pushed aside the thought, envisioning it as a load of bricks toppling on that dark Idea that was still trying to crowd me. It was a very pleasant image, and it let me regain my smile.

"Where to?" I asked.

"Back toward the garage," she informed me, waving an arm expansively back up the road.

"Excuse me."

We turned toward the voice to see a casually-dressed young cheetah smiling at us, his wolf companion looking on. "Hi," Lightwing offered lightly, "welcome to Starhold. How can we help?"

Coming astride the cheetah, the wolf blinked at us. "This isn't Timewind?"

"It is," the Husky chuckled softly. "Starhold refers to the land and holdings; Timewind is our tribe. The sign at the road describes us more than the land, so..."

A soft, nervous chuckle from the wolf. "I guess I can see that," he said.

The cheetah appeared embarrassed as he said, "I read about this place on line, and it's only a short detour on our trip, so I wanted to see it for myself. I'm an artist."

"Welcome to The Artisanry," Lightwing gestured to the building, still smiling. "I think you'll find it worth the side quest."

"I don't understand what is meant by 'tribe'," the wolf continued. "It sounds sort of weird to me."

The cheetah nudged him with an elbow. "Galen, don't be rude."

"It's not rude at all," the Husky assured them. "The concept is new to many. It's also a lot to explain, and we have some business elsewhere. You're very welcome to ask some of the tribal members in the shop. Darkstar is just inside, Starshine in our greenhouse section, and Moonsong is in the back. She'd be glad to make a beverage for you while she talks about the tribe. She's one of the founding members, in fact."

"I've read a little of your Tribal Manifesto online," the cheetah continued. "It was really interesting. I've thought about it a lot, and I..." The fur on his cheeks colored a little. "I'm sorry. We're keeping you from your business. We'll talk to the others."

"It's quite all right. Thank you for your kindness," Lightwing acknowledged with a smile and a nod of her head. She then took up my arm again and led me back toward the garage.

We kept quiet for a little while, partly to make sure that the young males were out of earshot. I thought about the exchange and wondered why I thought it awkward. Everyone was reasonable, soft-spoken, yet something bothered me. It took very little time for the Husky to catch the whiff of confusion about me.

"Something bothering you, Max?"

I breathed sweet air softly, getting rid of glib answers. "Yes, although I don't know what. Or maybe..." She gave me several seconds to work it out. "I keep coming back to the use of the word 'rude'."

"The wolf was calling it as he saw it, and I eased it back a notch. Is that what's bothering you, Max?" When I didn't answer after several seconds, she asked, "Did you think I was rude?"

Frankly, it felt like biting the paw that was feeding me; I also knew that she was going to get the truth out of me. "I've always felt that it was rude not to give others what they ask of you. The boss asks, so you do it; the wife asks, so you do it; if you don't, in either situation, there's likely to be consequences." I could sense the heat of an embarrassed blush on my cheeks. "I feel like, if I hadn't been there, you'd have given all the time they needed to answer their questions."

She bumped up against me in comradely fashion. "That's two things, Max, but they're linked. The first is that it's not rude to tell someone that, in this instance, I have something else to do, but that there are others here who can help them. I get to go on my way, and they get the help they're looking for. That's a win-win.

"The other point is that you _were_there, and my first duty was to you. To us, if you want to make it out that way. If it had been just me, perhaps I'd have given them a tour myself. It would be a pleasure to provide it, because I'm sort of wired that way. In this case, I am giving you the more personal tour of Starhold, telling you of Timewind, and that means I think of you first today. So I found another way to help them and, as I said, it's a win-win."

The argument was simple, sound, absolutely sensible. A thought occurred to me, and I smiled as I found myself taking a page from The Tribal Manifesto. "I'm going to ask for help. Can you help me understand why I think it's rude?"

Lightwing smiled one of those smiles that I'd grown so quickly to love from her. "Taking a clue from what you said a moment ago, I'd say that you'd been told that it's 'rude' to put your own needs above someone else's. You can always choose to put someone else's needs first, if you think it is beneficial to both of you, or even if you simply want to. If you never put your own needs first, you're making yourself a slave, without recourse, without getting your own needs met."

She stopped us, turned me toward her, placing a forepaw to my shoulder. "I'm gonna take a chance here, Max. In my experience, when I gave away all of my own power, my own needs, in favor of always putting others first, I was furious at my own life, angry at myself for letting others control me. I could never get anything done, never feel like I had my own life. It was all about whatever I could do for others. It was all that made me feel valuable, because I didn't have a Me to value."

My eyes looked into hers, and that shade at my shoulder tried to make me turn away. It was no match for the connection I was feeling in that moment. "Bert. The would-be Medicine Worker."

"He was the worst of the batch, yes." She nodded. "Others can be more insidious -- family, spouses, bosses, friends, neighbors, just about anyone." The Husky gave my shoulder a quick squeeze. "Remember that the opposite tack -- thinking only of yourself -- can cause even more grief and pain to the world and, ultimately, to yourself."

It was all too easy to think of examples of narcissists in history and in recent headlines; that point needed no hammering. "Finding a balance is, I take it, what you're suggesting."

"You learn quickly, Grasshopper." Her smile became a grin. "Not that I suggest you take that as your tribal name, if you want one."

"It would be a tough act to follow." I breathed more of the sweet air. "Any tips on how to figure out the balance point?"

She released my shoulder in favor of taking up my arm and continuing our walk toward the garage. "Calling it 'gut feelings' sounds too vague, but it's an indicator. How do you feel when someone asks you to do something? When you say, 'I don't mind,' do you feel that is true? If you feel taken advantage of, that's a good indicator that something's wrong. There are those people who seem to assume that you never have anything better to do than to cart them around, or listen to them complain, or just plain take up your time. Drawing your boundaries, finding the place where you get 'you time' instead of giving it all up to others... all are lessons from that non-existent Adulting 101 manual that none of us ever got a copy of."

"Is that what The Tribal Manifesto is? Adulting 101?"

Lightwing laughed loudly at that one, her ears up, her tail wagging with mirth. "Dreaming 101, maybe! Oh, we do toss in our bits of how we hope to treat one another. You may end up having to read it for yourself. The new edition is quite good, if we do say so ourselves. We took the focus back to the Three Steps to Becoming, with some of our personal stories about how we took our own first steps on that long, never-ending road."

"You forgot 'winding'," I smiled at her.

"I think McCartney and Lennon will forgive me." She shook her head gently. "No, there's no way to define 'adulting' accurately, like steps in a process. I think Starshine's idea might be the best of all: Let's Pretend. We can do it in both directions -- imagine a perfect world, figure out how it got there, and take an action toward that goal; or look at the action you are considering taking now, and imagine the consequences down the line, for your own future and for world that it might build."

"Every choice making a different world, that sort of thing?"

"You've read your science fiction."

"Sliding Doors."

"Great movie. I love a good rom-com." The lovely Husky graced me with another smile. "A circumstance -- whether or not you catch a particular train -- might be called 'passive,' while making a choice is 'active.' We don't always get much time to make a choice, like a few minutes ago. My choice was to follow the guides and ideas that I've already set for myself. I chose to help those two visitors, as best I could; I chose to be my best self by caring for myself and for you. I found that answer that made the win-win." She bumped me gently once again. "Shall I quit yammering and give you no more than fifteen seconds to reflect on all those choices that have made you feel bad over the years?"

I made a short, sharp bark of surprise over that one. "You'd make a great therapist."

"No. It's just that that's what I would probably do, and I have a feeling we're a lot alike."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Even though I wasn't looking directly at her, the way that she lowered her head a little made me imagine that she was blushing. It was when I started to turn my thoughts back to those things she had suggested I'd probably think about that I became aware of a certain lightness around me. The sun was warm, the air crisp, the trees providing shade and that sense of sweet strength that forested areas seemed to exude... and no trace of that blackness that had been haunting me so persistently. The realization was as good as calling for a loyal non-sapient dog to come running up to meet me. With a genuinely benevolent dog, I would welcome him with open arms and joyful petting. With this black "dog," I made it sit a short distance from me and told it to stay there. I had no idea if it would work, but it was worth a try.

The deadline had narrowed to less than ten seconds by that time. I didn't even need that long to find a good number of examples. I had long since been taught that growing older meant having more things to regret. The list of poor decisions seemed endless, and their sheer weight only added to the weight of that thing that had followed me here. With less than five seconds left, a few pawsful of incidents had risen to the surface of my mind, each fighting for the right to be called "worst" or "most dangerous," as if being singled out that way made them the Alpha of this pack of rabid creatures.

"Time's up," I heard her say, her grin taking any sting from it.

"Oh, poo; it was just getting into the big fight scene at the end."

"Too late; we're almost there."

I had thought we were already there. I heard movement in the garage, first seeing that all the windows of my car had been opened, then catching sight of Frank at the rear of the car. The tall mountain lion stood up at our approach and, after seeing who it was, seemed to steel himself to pad forward to meet us.

Doing my best to appear un-cop-like, I said, "Thanks again for the vacuuming out. I hope it wasn't too big a mess."

"Some wrappers and stuff went into the trash, but the seats and carpet seemed to shampoo fine. I can check the trunk, too, if that's okay."

"Only if you don't make fun of me for leaving the spare just laying there instead of being bolted down."

"I might even bolt it down for you." The big cat managed a smile. "Do I need a warrant to open it up?"

It felt good to smile back. "I consented. You're good." Extending a forepaw to him felt like a risk; I was glad to feel him shake it warmly. "Thank you, Frank."

"You're welcome, Max."

Lightwing took me gently by the shoulders and made to excuse us. "I thought I'd show him the Bunkhouse."

"Going back in time?" the mountain lion chided gently.

"It's good to know your roots, even though I wasn't there for the origins."

"I think it's good for Max to have the full tour." Frank's smile faltered for just a moment, and he looked away again for a moment before returning his eyes to mine. "Sorry about that," he said softly.

Equally softly, I asked, "Were you about to have a different opinion about Detective Luton?" Raising a forepaw gently toward him, I cut off his response by saying, "Truth told, Frank, maybe I'd have the same opinion about him. I hope I'm learning how to be Max again, and... well, thank you for giving me the chance."

His smile returned, more warmly, as he said, "Back atcha. Enjoy the tour."

"Thank you."

Lightwing nodded. "I'm going to take a moment to be proud of both of you." When the feline and I both turned blank expressions toward the Husky, her smile widened. "Give help, accept help? You two are becoming your best selves right before my eyes. As a Yorkshireman I knew once put it, 'Good on ye'."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

My guide led me past the garage and further down a graveled track into a small clearing. The "Bunkhouse," as she had called it, wasn't a rustic structure that might have fit in some film of the Old West. A Quonset hut can rarely be called "beautiful," but it can be immensely practical. The most familiar shape is half a tube cut longways and set on the ground; to prevent the edge areas from being nearly useless, this half-tube was set on walls not quite as high as my shoulders. It gave the rounded shape the feeling of a vaulted roof, and the double doors facing us seemed friendly, even more than merely practical.

Saving me from having to calculate distances, Lightwing provided details. "This is the structure that Rainmist was talking about last night. The building is 12x18 meters, and the kit for the exterior cost $12,000, at the time. To hear Oaknail tell it, he put in all the sweat equity by himself!"

"Does he really?"

"Only until Unicorn throws a pillow at him and talks about being the strong young stallion who was all but enslaved to do the heavy lifting. About that time, Moonsong and Rainmist start threatening head slaps all around, and everyone breaks down laughing."

I laughed as well, if only because I could envision it so easily. The entire scene was familial in the very best sense. I had to admit to feelings of envy and, breathing evenly for a moment, I put a gentle forepaw to Lightwing's arm. She turned her beautiful blue orbs to me and let them ask the question for her.

"Would you think it foolish of me to wish that I could have been there, to be part of an undertaking that created such a... well, family?"

"Oh, hells no!" she barked a laugh. "If I could have been there, at that age, with those amazing dreamers, to find out what it would be like to have built these first incredible pieces of the dream itself? Sign me up!" Her laughter mellowed a bit, and she held my gaze benevolently. "Instead, I found the tribe about ten years ago, then joined them properly about eight years ago, and I've been helping the dream grow in every way that I can ever since."

"You became part of the family."

"I did. They welcomed me, and I welcomed them, and there are plenty of stories that we've created together, and plenty more that they've told me about." She considered me again. "There's a quote I heard somewhere, and I'll mess it up... Something like, 'If you keep trying to face down the past, the future will sneak up behind you.' I think of it more on the lines of a really good book: There are chapters you'll want to reread, even share with others, but new chapters are always being created, so be sure to give them proper attention, too."

A smile crept onto my muzzle. "Darkstar would probably agree."

She nodded and turned toward the door, entering a code into the touchpad near it. A few beeps sounded, and she swung the door gently inward.

"Did the security system come with the kit?"

"Hardly!" Lightwing chuckled softly. "In those first days, I'm told, it was enough to have keys and a simple deadbolt, if necessary. It would have taken a pretty dedicated crook to track the tribe members down and penetrate this far into the woods. As the tribe grew larger, and tech grew cheaper and easier to put together, Firecat figured out how to wire it up so that we didn't have to carry sets of keys all over Starhold."

"Firecat?"

"Our electronics wizard. He joined us about the time that Darkstar did. The shared joke with those two is that they dragged the founders, kicking and screaming, the rest of the way into the 21st century."

"No 'Founders Pride' to fight back against that one?"

"Rainmist boasts that she joined when she was still finishing her high school classes, and that she was programming in C, whatever that means." The Husky smiled, shaking her head. "That's one area that I seem to have little head for. I'm fine using a program or an app; as for understanding how it works or how to crate something from scratch, I'm completely lost."

I looked at her blankly. "What's an 'app'?"

She blinked, until I let the smile start to grow. I was treated to a fine raspberry before she escorted me inside.

The space was hardly palatial, but it was big enough to make a good-sized dormitory for the newborn tribe. Things had to be different now than they were then; if nothing else, I had the feeling that some of the fixtures and furnishings I saw were too modern to have been part of the original configuration. The structure itself, however, was impressive enough. Horizontal casement windows were spaced along the length of the curved roof structure, just above the concrete wall; other windows were set into the ceiling to provide light from above. Between those, some built-in shelving made for storage of less-used items. The overall effect was something that felt spacious rather than cramped. I made a bet with myself that you could fit maybe five of Darkstar's room into this place; it would easily hold nine founding members, if they were the least bit friendly. With all that I'd seen, I took that as a given.

"I love visiting out here," Lightwing told me. "Almost the first thing that they installed was the indoor plumbing."

"No one would blame them. Actual showers, sinks, and toilets make any living situation more livable. Not to mention less stinky."

"A vital point."

"Was this here before as well?" I patted the door to a small, fully-enclosed space that had its own keypad, a small red light blinking periodically.

"Trust me; it wasn't."

Lightwing and I both turned toward the new voice. I recognized it from this morning, on the teleconference call that we all shared. The phone speaker robbed the hide-and-bone speaker of certain subtleties in timbre that filled in the cultured, even precise, speech. The stallion who stood before me needed no formal introduction, and my Husky guide did not provide one. I put forth a forepaw in greeting. "You are Unicorn, I presume."

"If you can see the horn already, perhaps you're more tribal than you think, Max." He took my paw in his own and held it rather than shook it. The smile on his muzzle was worthy of a benevolent mythical creature, and he had greeted me as Max, not as That Other Guy. I looked up into his eyes (he stood as close to 2m as made no odds), and they were a soft, reassuring amber that would set any client at ease. I'm not as good at identifying genetics of equines as I am of canines (Heartsinger notwithstanding), but I'd have bet on palomino, given the cream of his coat and his amazing white-gold mane. His clothing was casual, and it was clear that he'd just arrived back home. I imagine that he had his own tribal garb that he would likely feel more comfortable in.

"Lightwing was showing me what she called the Bunkhouse."

"And so it is. Has she told you the tall tales of our beginnings with this building?"

"We'd only just arrived."

His smile grew larger. "Then allow me the privilege of escorting you back in time." He leaned forward, conspiratorially. "It's my favorite magical power."