Stavr

Stavr of the Wall clan is a spiral-horned goat, the eldest of those who still remember rifles. The clan lived on the cliffs above the reservoir of the Great Dam, and people went up there for horns: twisted horns of three turns were hung over the fireplace of the hunting club on the shore. His father's horns hung there too

After the Fading, bright salt settled everywhere, and on the Dam it also seeps out of the concrete: water oozes through the wall, dries, and leaves white streaks on the sheer face. The goats climbed after it up the wall as if it were a cliff, and the higher they went, the saltier it was. The young ones fell. Stavr found a path along the seams and the iron rungs and every spring led the clan along it, and where his own could not see each other, he led them by voice. That is how he became the leader. He wears the human word “salt-licker” like a medal: “We licked. And licked our way to words”

When his old left horn slipped off its core like a sheath, Stavr gave it to no one. He drilled it out, fitted a brass mouthpiece and made a trumpet, so that his horn would never hang over anybody's fireplace. The banner he took down in that very club once the people had left it: it is embroidered with rifles and the head of a spiral-horned goat, and Stavr tells everyone it is his portrait

When Stavr had gone completely grey, his grandson challenged him, as goats do: lock horns, and whoever stands his ground leads. Stavr would not butt heads with his grandson and said instead that whoever climbed the wall first would lead the clan. The grandson took a new short path, Stavr his own old one at the western edge, right under the Lull. He was the first on the crest. He blew his horn from there so loudly that everyone on the platform of the Lull turned around, sat down on the parapet to catch his breath and never got up again. Selma came out at the sound with the Lantern, and the old goat's light went into the glass. The grandson became the leader, and the clan still goes for salt along Stavr's path

He is pompous and loud and speaks in commands, as if blowing his horn. He is prouder of his beard than of his horns and chews whatever comes his way, even the corner of his own banner. With the young he is patient: “On the wall, whoever hurries flies.” His trumpet makes the fur stand up on Varga's neck, because that is how people blew on their hunts, and Stavr blows it behind her back on purpose. Seyvar calls him Goatsbeard, and Stavr still cannot decide whether to take offense: it is a flower, after all