Home to the Wild, page 6
Slowly, and as quietly as she possibly could, Little One left the Den, following the paw prints of the since-departed pack to silence her steps.
It had been far too long since she had been outside the inner land of their territory. Her mother used to take her great distances as the pack hunted. Showing her their land, teaching her the history behind it. Now, without her, she had barely made it past the great oak less than half a shadow’s pass from the Den.
As Little One walked, her paws sinking into the fresh snow, her cover wrapped around her shoulders, she became aware of the safety her mother’s presence and knowledge had provided her. The trees looked taller without her – bunched and curled together, creating frightening shadows on the ground, one of which looked like a pair of teeth trying to swallow her whole. Everything melded together making it hard to follow the path she took with Larka. Too many times she took the wrong turn and had to find her way back to where she came from.
The only positive that came from almost getting lost was that, with every wrong path she took, she discovered something new about her home.
Once, when she took a left at the collapsed tree instead of climbing over it as she was meant to, she stumbled across a small stream that was frequented by the smaller animals of the Forest. She took a moment to have a drink and politely greet the birds, bunnies, and hedgehogs before she headed back the correct way.
Even if I do not find my mother, she thought as she bounced down the snowy path, at least I can show that I am capable for the hunt.
Little One would prove herself to the pack no matter the outcome. She knew what she was doing, where she was going. She would be the one to find Mother. She had to be. The only thing she had to do was find the river.
The river marked the end of their territory and bridged the space between their pack and others. Mother had taken her there a few times whenever the pack was travelling far for their hunts. Each time they went, the more the river became somewhere that was just hers and her mother’s place.
One time when they had been there, they had walked the line of the river and seen a rival wolf across the bank. A calm and silent standoff occurred, confusing Little One. Then, the rival turned and left, their tail low to the ground, and it was over.
Mother had sat down after that, a sigh escaping her, as she turned to Little One. Nature is not kind to those who do not stand up to it, my pup. To be in balance with this hostile world, one must find a way to fight with and against it.
Her mother often spouted wisdom like this, and Little One never really understood them. But she knew they were important, so she held onto the words in her mind for when she was older. Mother told her that she would understand it then.
A wolf is always learning, never stopping, and forever building. Even I still have much left to learn, she’d said on their last visit to the river. She had turned to Little One, who had taken to splashing in the shallow of the water to cool down in the warmer time, and nudged her. Maybe even you will teach me something I have not learnt before.
The two had then played together in the water, chasing one another across the banks until it was time to head back. Thinking of these memories pushed Little One to keep going, following the path she remembered to the river. She was sure this was where she must have gone. Her mother had always seemed at peace when they were there. It felt right that she would go there to rest from her injury.
The only fault with this plan was that the journey to the river was a half-sun’s walk there and back. She could only hope that her pack would be out hunting longer than usual for her to make it undetected.
Still, her mother was out there somewhere, and she would bring her home where she belonged, no matter what. So, she continued her walk, her steps high to keep them out of the deep snow, sometimes even jumping when it got too much to stop her from getting stuck. To distract herself from the cold that seeped into her bones, she focused on the Forest around her.
It was abuzz with tentative excitement, and she wondered if maybe she was the reason. A lone pup was a rare sight after all. Small prey wandered near, curious about Little One, though nervous of her connection to the wolves. She snapped her small teeth at any who came too close, a warning at just how well she’d been trained. While she had yet to hunt properly, she had enough experience with her play fighting to feel some confidence in her ability to protect herself.
There was also the underlying fear that with so much prey nearby, any predators that may be on their hunt may find her. Mother had said there was an unspoken law of the Forest among the predators, a “we don’t hurt you, you don’t hurt us” courtesy. But Little One had never been sure if that included her.
She shook her head. Pay attention, Little One, she chastised herself.
Trudging on, she took in her surroundings, stopping every so often at certain trees, checking the markings left behind by her mother. She had used these as a teaching method for Little One when they used to travel to the river.
Mother had told her that, with her lack of scent and memory tracking, plotting a path was important for her to do. It would help her find her way back home to safety and her family. Little One smiled at the memory as she followed the scratched-out path. Some had faded over time, but most were still visible. As she continued, Little One’s memory of the journey grew stronger.
The giant weeping tree that fell across the sky, blocking out the sun’s light, meant she was at the halfway point. With the moss-covered rocky faces and the smaller pine trees that followed, Little One’s confidence grew. She knew what she was doing.
Her only difficulty now was dealing with the cold. Her paws felt numb and uncomfortable, and her attempts at high-stepping out of the snow tired her more than she expected.
Somehow it had been easier with her mother. With her, she had always managed it just fine, even in the height of the cold. A sadness washed over Little One then. It had been too long since she and her mother had adventured together. So much had happened in such a brief space of time, and somehow it also felt as if nothing had changed.
Lost in thought, she tripped over a snow-covered rock. Tumbling down an incline, her small body bounced atop the snow, the cold biting into her skin as she went, making her yelp in pain.
She landed face-first into the ground at the bottom with a thud. Spitting out the snow and brushing her face clean of the flakes, Little One clambered up from the ground. Her skin was soaked, as if she had just been bathed, and she could feel the flakes melting into her fur.
Her body tremored; the intense cold covered her from head to toe. She’d been cold before, but not like this. Her teeth hurt, an incessant chattering hurting her jaw. She pulled her warm covered tighter around herself but it made no difference. It was as if the chill were biting into her very bones. All her toes curled in on themselves, forcing her to stumble awkwardly on her numbing limbs.
Little One could feel panic building in her chest, making her breathe harder and heavier, but she couldn’t afford that right now. Not out in the open.
But her sister’s voice suddenly spoke in her mind. Panic and defeat will do you no favours, she had told her once after one of their siblings had played too roughly. You can never show weakness, or it will be the death of you.
Rae had always been there for her. Even though she was different now, and so far away, she was still protecting her. Then she pictured her mother and her sister together once more, Rae no longer burdened by the stress of leadership, her mother happy and with her once more, and Little One felt herself relax.
Taking a steadying breath, she forced herself to walk on, ignoring the sharp pains she felt shoot up her back legs.
Little One’s throat was tight and sore, and in desperate need of water. Shakily, she scooped snow into her mouth, hoping that would sate the worst of it until she reached the river.
It was when the shadows grew thicker around Little One and the Forest around her that she realised her mistake. From her slow pace, it had taken her longer than usual to travel to the river. At this point, by the time she reached it, it would be dark. Too dark to make it back to the Den safely, or without her being noticed by the pack.
Little One considered turning back. She could always try again tomorrow.
Then she heard it.
Rushing water. As fast as she could in her state, she charged ahead. The sounds grew louder the closer she came. She could hear the crashing of the water against the banks and even splashes of the jumping fish that swam within its waters. She stumbled on her numb limbs through an opening in the trees and fell at the edges of the slowly icing waters. It was just like she remembered.
The river spanned a tree trunk’s distance between the pack’s territory and their rivals. It was colder now, so the colourful plants had withered, but the snow here was thinner, showing the grass beneath her paws. Every so often she would see the fish leap out of the water before they disappeared underneath it once more.
Even as her teeth chattered and her toes numbed, her heart warmed just from being there. As she crawled close to the bankside, she dunked her face into the icy waters and drank. With her thirst finally quenched, she celebrated her victory. She’d made it. And done so all on her own.
Bouncing up and down, she let out a yip of glee. Though she could still feel the cold, her cover around her body doing nothing now to warm her, Little One could hardly care. Until of course her stomach growled and spasmed, causing her pain.
She needed food. Soon.
As she looked around, she saw there was nothing of substance in the area for her. No forgotten carcasses that she could feast on to fill her stomach, and she had never been successful at catching fish, so she took to nibbling on the grass at her feet. It’d help in the meantime at least.
Now to search for Mother, she thought, taking in her surroundings.
Ripping out a chunk of grass to chew on, she began her trek. Her initial plan had been to call out to her mother as she went, but with darkness coming, she didn’t want to alert any nearby predators of her presence. Instead, she stayed low to the ground, using her paws to seek out any signs of her mother while her eyes stayed watching around her, examining every movement of a tree branch or rustle of a bush.
She checked the thicket near the riverbank, under fallen trees, and even at the water’s edge - though Little One made sure to hold onto a nearby rocky patch to keep her balance so as to not fall in.
As she searched the length of the riverbank, her smile faded alongside the dwindling light of the day. There was no sign of her mother, and she still had a lot of river to check.
They will have found out I am gone by now, she thought, her heart racing with anxiety. And I will never be able to get to the Den safely in the dark.
She’d never been away from the safety of the pack for this long before, or alone for so long. Now she was experiencing both at once. She felt just as she had that morning, waking up without her mother again. Her heart felt hollow, as if it was no longer there. Her skin was feverish, though she was still cold. She found herself struggling to catch her breath. Little One tried to ignore it as best she could, continuing with her search, but as the first of the night lights arrived, she began to wonder.
Would she die out here? How would her pack even find her this far away from the Den? Would they even want to look for her?
Tears trickled down her cheeks, blurring her eyes. Brushing her face, she pushed those thoughts away. All Little One knew was that she needed her mother; she’d fix everything. She’d tell her the truth and love and care for her no matter what. Mother would—
Up ahead, hidden beneath fallen snow and shielded with reefs and flowers by the riverbed, was the distinct sight of pure white fur. Little One froze.
Are my eyes playing tricks? she thought.
Well, she didn’t care if they were. Running towards the mound of fur and snow, her cold paws making the action clumsy and awkward, she couldn’t stop herself from calling out to her mother.
Coming around the riverbed, she fell into the soft fur coat of her mother and openly wept in relief, the tightness in her chest finally releasing as she let go of all the pain she had felt in missing her. She nuzzled, cuddled, and cried into her fur, grateful to be back with her. It hadn’t been that long since she had disappeared, but it felt like a lifetime as the joy at seeing her warmed her.
Oh Mother, I missed you! she whined, still nuzzling her side, soaking up the warmth she always provided. Her nose twitched slightly this time as she picked up a potent scent from her mother’s fur - one that made her gag. You smell strange, Mother, what were you doing?
For the first time, she turned to her mother’s face. The cold that had riddled her body even now with tremors suddenly felt like nothing. She could feel nothing.
Larka’s eyes were wide open and shiny, frozen trickles of blood speckled around them as if some animal had tried to feast on her too soon. Her muzzle was wide open. Her tongue was dry and had flopped onto the grass bed beneath her, the edges of it missing, likely having been eaten by a nearby pest. Her once-pure white fur was caked in mud and blood, with her claws broken at the tip. The warmth that she always provided was no longer the same, it was a warming stench of death.
Her mother was dead.
Little One sat in horrified silence. Her eyes never left her mother’s. Around her, the Forest seemed to take a palpable breath, its own heart breaking for the loss of one of its own. What neither Little One, the Forest, nor its inhabitants expected was the wailing howl of a heartbroken cub.
11
RAE
She had never considered killing a fellow wolf before, but for Skai, she was willing to make an exception. Echo and Shadow were the only ones keeping her from pouncing, their muscled and larger bodies blocking her path to the grey wolf.
How could you! Rae snarled, her teeth bared and hackles raised. Even if she had to leap over her elders to get to the beast, she’d do it. She was ready to show Skai exactly what traitors got.
But then she heard the howl.
Every member of the pack fell silent, their heads rearing up, ears standing to a point. Around them, the wail echoed, the sound drifting on the wind and swirling around the territory. The howl swallowed the air with its pain and anguish. Rae turned to her father, who gave her the same look.
Little One.
Without a word, Rae turned and loped into action, knowing her family would follow without question. Her paws pounded against the solid snow, barely leaving a print from how fast she ran. The wail, though now silent, continued to play over and over in her mind.
As she ran, her senses were on high, searching for any scent or sight that could help guide her. It didn’t take long for her to latch onto her sister’s familiar smell, a mix of pine, wolf, and lavender, though it was muted by an intense smell of fresh water.
The river, Rae thought and changed course for that direction, following the path her father had taken her on when they explored the territory during her first hunt.
Echo appeared at her side; his gait as desperate as hers. Even in his old age, he soon surpassed her in speed and spurred ahead.
Pushing herself faster, trying to catch up with Echo, Rae’s mind ran away from her with worry. If Little One was by the river’s side and seen with or without Mother, an all-out fight for dominance could break out with the riverside wolf pack. So Rae ran faster, the trees blurring around her till all she saw was the path she must follow.
The smell of fresh water and the sound of its rushing stream grew louder as wolf after wolf pounded the ground in their race to the river’s edge. Then, the Forest opened up to the boundary line, and the pack stopped in their places.
Ahead of them, Echo stood still and silent beside the banks, his head low, ears flat against his back, tail tucked between his legs. A soft mournful whine reached Rae’s and the pack’s ears, and they all fell quiet. It was then that Rae smelled it.
Death.
Taking a breath to keep herself calm at the intensity of the scent, she slowly, head low, approached Echo. He did not turn to look at her, instead he stepped closer to whatever he was looking at, falling to the ground in grief.
Then the image of a heartbroken Little One came into view. Her skin was covered in mud and blood, her tears tracking lines through the muck. The sight alone was enough to break Rae’s heart, but when she stepped towards her sister, she finally saw her mother.
She stopped. Her instinct to comfort her sister was ripped from her as she fought back the growing sickness in her stomach as she took in the sight of her broken mother. Rae stepped backwards, the need to flee rising within her, but she stumbled, her legs feeling numb beneath her.
This… this can’t be, Rae whispered, barely able to take her eyes off Larka’s empty golden ones.
Little One let out a cry, one she’d clearly been trying to hold back as she slapped a paw against her mouth in anger.
Bowing her head, Rae continued to her sister’s side. She pressed herself against her cold body, noticing that her cover had been placed atop Larka, as if Little One was trying to keep her warm. Rae closed her eyes, her own tears threatening to spill at the sight.
Instead, she leant down to softly nuzzle her mother’s body. This would be the last time she would see her mother, and while she knew this would mar the memory of the unbreakable strength she had, she would honour and respect her as any wolf would.
May Mother Wolf guide you, she said, her tongue brushing Larka’s jaw.
At that, Echo broke, his once mournful whimpers rose to a devastated cry as he pawed at Larka’s side, desperate for her to wake up. Rae had to turn away, as did most of the pack. When a wolf found their mate, their very souls tied together. To lose their other half is to lose themselves. While Rae, and most of the others, had not found their mate, they could understand the pain. He would not manage well without her.
