by Forest Wells
At least the view was better than it had been. Despite winter usually having another moon to go, the trees had sprung to life, though still far from full foliage. Not that one could tell by listening to the birds. Many had arrived with the early spring and were announcing their arrival just as loudly as if the trees were in full bloom. Crisp beams of light filtered through what leaves were there, as if Wolfor was trying hard to melt the pockets of snow that refused to go away. Or maybe he just wanted to brighten the mood.
He didn’t need to, at least not for me. Estrella lay beside me outside the den, still fast asleep. With the return of good hunting, her fur, much like mine, was full and smooth, without a rib to be found. I couldn’t remember when she became enough to keep me going, nor did I care to find out. I only know that, because of her, I was still here.
Losing the pack had hit me hard, and continued to do so for some time after. But Estrella, my other half, had refused to let me stay in that state of sorrow. She kept me going when I was certain that demon doe would be our last meal. She let me cry when I needed to, yet never let me sulk alone, or for too long. As the hunting improved, she wouldn’t let me see anything but the positive, and somewhere along the way, I learned how to do it without her help.
“Sunshine, all behind, prey, prey, it’s time to find.”
Now if we could just do something about that bird, life would be perfect.
And yet, I found myself laughing at him as Estrella awoke and stretched. I couldn’t seem to get rid of that darn mockingbird. All the times I’d snapped at him, after everything that had happened so far, that one little bird was still there, perched atop the rock pile, singing at me. Must have taken stubbornness lessons from Carlin.
Estrella yawned, then nuzzled me with a soft whine of affection. “Good morning, thorn. Care to share the joke?”
“Luna, Luna, got himself a mate,” the bird sang. “Luna, Luna, Rajor must really hate.”
Estrella stared at him, looking almost disgusted. “Did you freeze your brain during the winter?”
“He’s always been like that,” I said.
“Frozen brain! Frozen brain! Frozen brain, I am!”
He glided over us, though never low enough to have a chance of catching him. Estrella tried anyway. She snapped at the air just under him, but the bird didn’t even fly higher. He chirped at us as he vanished into the trees, joined by a female mockingbird that was rasping at him.
“Looks like you’re not the only one that found a mate,” Estrella said, fighting a laugh.
“Let’s hope that’s not her,” I said. “Seems she doesn’t care for his antics.”
“Didn’t stop you. Why would it stop him?”
I nipped at her, and she nipped back. Back and forth we went until we were laughing too much to close our mouths. I stood and intentionally bumped into her before walking toward the river for a drink. She, of course, countered with a gentle nip on my tail before following.
The once gentle flow, fed by the heavy snows of winter, had become twice as wide, and more powerful. The quiet rumble of moving water was like a gentle thunder now, at one point carrying an entire branch downstream. Luckily, that same strength had caused a flood at some point. It had created a small, calm lagoon, perhaps as big as our den, but only as deep as the hock on my leg. I waded in to see what fish I could catch, then settled for the drink I’d originally come for when I found nothing.
Then it hit again. A stray thought turned into a memory. Today it was Toltan giving swimming lessons. “Keep your paws moving as if you’re walking up a hill that keeps running away from you.” His voice echoed in my mind, and my ears fell. I stared at myself in the water, picking apart the wolf that stared back. Someone once said I had Toltan’s ears and tail, though I could never see it. The silver sheen in my hackles, yes, especially when the sun or moon caught as it did now, but Toltan? He was never there. Not that it stopped me from looking.
“Luna?” Estrella said. Gentle as ever, yet worried too. “Are you here?”
My ears flicked up, then I snorted into the water, rippling my reflection away. “I’m here. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t. Don’t apologize for feeling. I miss them too.”
I cringed again, but only for a moment. “I can still feel him. His nose touching mine before I could see. Then I remember the last time I touched his, and I...”
Estrella thumped her head into mine. While the force made me adjust my balance, the rub warmed the rest of me, pushing the pain into the back of my mind. I returned the rub with equal warmth and affection as thanks.
“He’ll always be there,” she said. “Like he said, his blood is yours. The blood of an alpha. He lives in you and those that will follow. As does Martol.”
“What about Carlin?”
I cursed myself the moment I said it. It was an uncalled for, snide comment neither she nor Carlin deserved. I thought I left those behind.
Estrella didn’t seem to notice. “He left his mark too. That moment of pup play we just had would have made him proud, or knocked him on his side in laughter.”
I panted a laugh myself. Knowing him, he’d manage both. “It’s nice to know it’s still there. The pup side, I mean. I thought I’d lost it when... well, you know.”
“I know. Losing them wasn’t easy for me either. But I was more worried about you.”
“Afraid I’d become a permanent thorn-in-the-paw?”
Estrella’s ears ticked forward with an amused ruff of her own. “Something like that.”
In the moment, I hatched a plan. I had to work hard not to go down on my front paws. If I did, it would spoil the fun for both of us.
Though I would get to have fun first. “Well, I could always go back there, you know. Seemed like a nice place to be.”
She fell for it.
“I won’t allow it! You’re my mate now. I can’t have you getting all stuffy just because you liked it.”
I held my act to the point of showing a fringe of challenge in my ears. “I see. So you control me, do you?”
Estrella matched my stance exactly. “In that regard, yes.”
I ticked my ears forward, walked calmly behind her, waiting until I was a few steps away.
“Well, tough luck. You want to prevent it...” Only then did I drop on my front paws with a joyful pant. “You’ll have to catch me first.”
I tore into the forest as if sprinting after a kill, my tongue flapping with my stride while Estrella yelled after me. She sounded angry, but she couldn’t hide the play in her voice.
“Get back here, you! I’m not finished!”
Perfection!
I wasn’t done yet either. I leapt over fallen logs, broke through bushes, and sent a family of rabbits scattering like roaches. I’d have been laughing if I wasn’t panting so hard. I made a wide angle turn back the other way, with Estrella still chasing after me. I wasn’t sure how yet, but I had to get Estrella on her side in that lagoon. She’d probably light the water on fire, but I knew she’d be laughing about it as much as I would.
Except I never got there. A glint of light, too strong for snow, drew my attention. I stopped and looked at an odd rock that appeared smooth, much like the human’s monster, yet this one wasn’t much bigger than I was. It was a rectangular boulder just sitting there, with each side being flat like a slab of stone the river had worn down, and it seemed to have holes in almost every side.
I had forgotten Estrella until I yipped surprise when she tackled me. She bit at the back of my neck and shoulders, though her growl was purely playful.
“Tell me you won’t go back,” she said. “Tell me you’ll never become a thorn.”
I hated to do it, but I had to give her a real growl to make her understand I wasn’t playing anymore. Her ears ticked back in apology, though her eyes searched for a reason.
“What did I do?” she said.
“Nothing,” I said. “It’s this.”
I tossed my head at the rock, still looking it over. The holes i
n the sides were oddly clean, crisp, and uniform. It was definitely the same stone the humans used, though why they’d left it there was the more pressing question. They had a tendency to leave things behind, but not like this.
Estrella walked up to it, nose hard at work. I followed close behind doing the same, finding only what I expected: sweet, tang, musk, and that sharp, crispy smell their stone things seemed to have. Normal human scents, if there is such a thing.
“They were here, all right,” I said. “Not that long ago by the smell of it. But I’ve never seen anything like this before.”
“Could it be one of their dens?” Estrella said.
“Too small. Barely enough room inside for one, and they never sleep in stone like this. It’s always that thin fur stuff.”
“So what is... well, hello.”
She was standing by the only open side to the rock. When I joined her, I found the inside was hollow, as I’d expected. What I didn’t expect was the freshly killed rabbit stashed inside at the back.
“Now they’re bringing their own caching places?” I said. “Can’t these humans find anything themselves?”
“Apparently not,” Estrella said. “Still, nice opportunity for us. After chasing you, I could do with a snack.”
I sniffed at the rock again, then tapped it with a paw. It seemed solid enough, with little to no risk of collapsing on her. Not that it would be a problem if it did, being as thin as it was. Still, something about it didn’t feel right. Humans didn’t leave perfectly intact kills just laying around. Something else was at work here.
“Let’s find our own,” I said. “I don’t trust anything human.”
Estrella ruffed with a roll of her eyes. “Oh, don’t be such a pessimist. It’s not a thunder stick, and there aren’t any humans around. I see no reason we can’t take what’s there.”
“Nothing human is ever good for us. Leave it. We’ll find our own.” I turned to leave, and Estrella followed, though hesitantly. I grew worried when she stopped after only a few steps. Panic followed when she turned and headed inside for the rabbit.
“Estrella! Don’t! You don’t know—”
A snap and a clank followed as the open side suddenly closed behind her. She tried to break through, but the rock just clanged with each attempt. She tried each side, finding no give in any of the walls.
“You were saying?” I said.
Estrella growled from within. “Save the lecture for later. Try to push from the outside.”
I pushed hard on all sides, including the one that had closed, but nothing moved. I tried my fangs, but the rock never even chipped, much less broke. Panic set in again as I banged myself against the sides, hoping I could do what she couldn’t. I could feel the bruises already forming as I pounded into the sides of the large rock, but all that did was cause loud clangs to echo off the trees.
“It’s no use,” I said. “We can’t get through, but there’s got to be a way. We can’t... I can’t...”
“Luna!” Estrella barked. “Take a deep breath. Calm yourself. I’m not hurt, so I believe we’re okay for the moment.”
Barks sounded from the distance. Human barks. On top of their usual crashing, they were making a lot of noise as they approached from what sounded like a great distance. I thought they were terrible hunters before.
“Any other statements you’d like to be wrong about?” I said.
Estrella growled again, but I could see through the holes. She was breathing as hard as I was.
We both tried again, and again, to no avail. We pulled, pushed, bit, clawed, even tried to kick like that doe had. All we did was make the rock make a lot of noise. As the humans got closer, I found it harder and harder to breathe. I knew they’d be here soon, rounding a tree any moment now. I had to get Estrella out of there. There had to be a way. There had to!
“Luna. Look at me,” Estrella said.
Her voice was so calm, so pleading, she was like Martol trying to calm me when I was scared, except there was a darkness to it. One that froze my body cold in fear. I found holes through which I could see her face, finding her staring straight at me, ears shifting. Please, Wolfor, no.
“You have to go,” Estrella said. “Get out of here before they find you.”
She’d barely finished her sentence before I snapped at her. “Not a chance! I lost my pack in the winter. I won’t lose you too.”
“There’s nothing you can do for me. This is my time.”
Breathing became harder by the second as my chest filled with pinecones. It didn’t help that I could see tears welling in her eyes.
“I won’t leave you,” I said. “You’re my mate. I can’t live without you.”
“Yes, you can!” she growled. “You have to. Dead or alive, I have to know you’re out here living.”
“I won’t be alive. I won’t have any reason to fight.”
“You will because I say you will. Promise me, Luna. Promise me you won’t die. That you will continue to hunt in this forest until you no longer can. Say the words. Swear it. In Wolfor’s name, swear it!”
Hard to do when I can’t catch a full breath. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe at all. Tears fell like rain from both of us. The holes were so small, I couldn’t touch her, but her eyes. They found me. They were pleading, asking, demanding one last act of love.
I heard the humans again. Very soon now. I found what I could of Estrella through the holes. Pain or not, I knew if I stayed, I’d die. If I left, I’d die within, but maybe then Estrella would face her end in peace. I couldn’t deny her that. Not after everything she’d done for me.
I fought through the sobs, scrounging enough breath to speak.
“I promise. In... in Wolfor’s name I... I swear... I will survive. I will live.”
Estrella pushed her muzzle against the rock. Her nose squeezed through a hole, and I managed to touch my nose to hers. I stayed there, absorbing every drop of scent, every ounce of her soul, until she pulled away. It felt like a lifetime suddenly stolen.
“Now,” she said, “get out of here. Don’t make me watch you get killed. Don’t you dare let Rajor beat you either. Not ever.”
I could only turn my ears forward.
Rustling from nearby announced the human’s arrival. Out of time... forever out of time. I allowed one last look inside at my mate before running off. I ran back to my rock pile, now so much emptier than before.
All of it, everything I’d gained, I had lost it all. My parents, Carlin, and now Estrella. I had nothing left, not even my rage. Just when it seemed I’d escape my fate, the humans took what little I had left, and I could do nothing about it. Nothing except one last gift for Estrella.
I lifted my head and howled, deep, long, and mourning. I was mourning a death not yet come, while saying goodbye to the last of my heart.
Chapter 10
THE DEN FELT LIKE A mountain now. Moons ago, it was home to a pack, even if we couldn’t all fit. Then it held only two, with the love of hundreds between us. Now it was an empty cavern that still wasn’t big enough for me to lose myself in.
Her scent was still there. Some of Estrella’s fur clung to cracks in the wall. I’d even found a bit of a claw in the corner. So that’s where it went. Estrella had bitten at her paw so long and hard, I worried she’d bite it raw. Then all at once, her head had snapped up, almost hitting the wall. She had ruffed victory, then gone searching for whatever had gone flying. With the pack’s deaths still fresh at the time, I hadn’t had the heart to ask what had been wrong. I now wished I had. At least then I’d know, and knowing might help me hold onto her a little longer.
A pained sigh escaped as it hit. I’d never know now. I’d never know a lot of things. How she’d be as a mother, how we’d fair throughout the years, how many times she and I would have to remind Rajor who was the better wolf.
How many years we’d have with each other.
My pain chased me out of the den. I had to get out of her scent, to get away from all the reminders wai
ting for me with each breath. Except she was outside too. Estrella had marked our territory just as I had. Her scent was everywhere, still pricking at my heart. I tried to escape her by the river, but there I found the memory of our first hunt together. Somehow, Estrella had known that moose would swim across. Luck? Skill? I never cared to ask. Now I would never know that either.
“Calm day of warm air, calm day free of care.”
Only a bird would think of such things.
I didn’t bother yelling at him. I didn’t even turn an ear. I just flopped my head onto my paws and stared at the river. It still raged hard enough that I didn’t think it wise to risk swimming. Bet Rajor would. I could just imagine him, jumping in with all his pride, declaring he had the strength. Then he’d slip below the surface, too fast for Lonate to catch this time, never to be seen again. It was the only thought I had that didn’t hurt.
“Luna wolf is strong and proud, needs to eat or mate be loud.”
“I doubt that very much.”
The bird fluttered to a low branch, too high to catch as usual, but still in plain view. “Have heard her, have heard her, she has—”
“She has nothing now!”
I turned and glared at the bird. Were it easier to breathe, I would have put Toltan’s death stance to shame. I wanted to be alone. I wanted to grieve, to be anywhere but here, where she still remained. I wanted... I wanted it to stop hurting.
At least it had a use. As the pain built, much of it turned to anger, which shook me clear to my claws. It would turn back to pain soon enough, but in the moment, it gave me the breath to try and acquire some peace.
“She’s gone,” I said. “Even you have to understand what that means. She’s not here. She never will be again.”
The bird did not stay silent, but his song was so somber, it was oddly soothing. “Luna mate also strong, Luna mate won’t stay gone.”
Just as fast as it had come, the anger left, leaving a hole the pain filled three times over. It filled my every hair, as if I were being eaten from the inside out. My ears fell as I cringed so tight, my head went numb. With the last of my will, I fought past it, hoping, begging, praying I could find a way to end the moment.