How did lone wolves survive? As I struggle and pulled, making my paw ache, I felt a desperate sense of impending doom. What if I died out here, frozen beneath the snow, suffocating from the weight of it? Trapped until spring when my body would thaw out and the creatures of spring would find me. I pause in my movements, heavy breathes causing the snow and air around me to billow out. Fear crushes me and I close my eyes for a moment, gasping. Find calm - find it now! The old fear from my childhood resurfaces. Fear of everything, the great knowledge that the world could hurt if I let it. I missed my brother Thor and his calm voice, always helping me get over it. I remember saving him from the raging river and my subsequent abhorrence of all fast moving waters.
"I'm sorry mom, dad," I whisper to the air, imagining them look down on me with sad faces. My sorry was for everything I hadn't done. Taking care of the rest of my family, making sure they stuck together, checking on them. Being the glue that help bind. By this time the snow has buried me up to my nose and I have to twist my head around to make breathing room. It is coming fast and my paw seems numb, the rock that sits atop the hold I am lodged in pressing into the tender bones.
I think I hear a noise and bark sharply, startling myself, but my pale eyes twist wildly as I try to look around. One last fight has me struggling and it is like I can feel him coming towards me. A light in the darkness, a beacon, and I strain towards him. "Help me, please!" I beg, desperation thick in my voice. Next thing I know a jaw is wrapping around my neck. I bark sharply, almost a scream, but catch myself when I realize I am not about to die. That he wasn't here to finish me off.
It hurts. It hurts something fierce, but I jerk my foot along with his dragging, and suddenly after a few moments of useless pulling, I spring free. I come hurtling upward quickly - I was never that big to begin with - and practically tumble into his chest atop the snow. I am panting, ears back as I sprawl out on the snow. My right paw aches and throbs but I feel relief. The snow is blinding but I turn to look up at him, my maw pressing into his by accident before I yank it back in embarrassment and my tail slaps the snow. "Thank you!" My voice is breathless with exertion and relief.
I move to stand, wincing at my bruised paw and holding it up while my gaze scours the area but doesn't find my herbs. Accepting that I would have to start anew in the spring, sadly, I turned my head to face the boy. I am struck by him. Almost a physical blow, and I can't help but to stare.