Clan of the Wolf

by Avery Kloss

  Ara and Kia exchanged a look. If I had glanced over my shoulder, I would have seen the silent despair in their expressions—emotions they tried to hide.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I ventured ahead, the going difficult at first, the mud deep, but, as we continued, it became easier, although the entire basin had flooded. The mud reached my ankle with each step. I did not wish to think about tiredness or thirst, knowing mamma and Ara suffered the same. No one said a thing, the only sound being the wind whistling through the tall blades of grass.

  We came upon dead animals every so often, mostly stags having drowned, a few wolves as well. Mercifully, we did not see any dead bodies, which relieved me. The mud began to harden later in the day, the sun high towards the west and threatening to fall. We had to find shelter, the ground having slowly risen, while a promising-looking hill filled my vision. We might find it dry, thereby being able to make a fire.

  Ara saw it too. “We can camp there.” She squinted in the sunlight, her lips dry and cracked. “I … don’t think I can go on. I need to rest.”

  “It’s better than anything else.” I hurried towards it, climbing, finding the earth beneath me without a layer of annoying mud. “We can sleep here.”

  Kia climbed, standing beside me, gazing at the boggy plain, her expression bland. “It’ll do for the night.” She sat heavily, groaning with the effort.

  Wrapping my arms around her neck, she smelled musky, her skin slick with perspiration from having walked so far. I saw the forest in the distance, the trees appearing tiny. “We’re going to be fine, Mamma. Don’t worry.”

  She sobbed then, her body trembling. “I’m trying to be strong.”

  “You are strong.”

  “You girls have … ” she sniffed, “you’ve been wonderful. Better than I deserve.”

  “Oh, stop that,” I admonished, squeezing her. “We’re doing our best to survive. Everyone else already got out. I’m sure they’re waiting for us.” I smiled at the thought. “They probably think we’re ridiculous for taking this long.”

  Kia shook her head. “No, child. That’s not it at all.” She grasped my hand, where I got to my knees to sit beside her. “Listen to me, Peta.” She sniffed. “We may be the only ones who survived. Do you understand that? The reason we haven’t seen anyone is because … it’s because they’re … dead. All those bodies … ” tears filled her eyes, “they were our clan, Peta. They were our people.”

  “No.” I had seen another camp far in the distance many moons ago. The people that floated in the river came from that direction. I would never believe our entire clan had perished. “You’re not thinking clearly, Mamma. You need water.” I would not let her words affect me. Enwan and Ronan waited for us—I know they did. They had sought safety away from the river, while the others had done the same. Our clan had not died in the flood. “We’re all scattered about. Everyone went in a different direction. We shall come together again soon enough.”

  She smiled sadly, sympathy glimmering in her eyes. “I doubt that. If you need to think that to feel better, then I won’t say another word. Time will reveal all. It always does.”

  Ara left the basket, wandering around at the base of the hill with a stick. She did not want to be a part of the discussion, venturing here and there to look at the ground. “Look!” she shouted. “Look!”

  I jumped to my feet. “What?”

  “There’s an animal. It’s still alive!”

  “You wait here, Mamma. You need to rest. Let Ara and I take care of everything.”

  “You’re both good girls. You’re so very good,” she murmured.

  “I’m coming!” I dashed down the hill, not having the time to ponder Kia’s odd mood, although I suspected it had everything to do with the struggle of the last few days. How could she not be affected by the disaster? I did not believe for one moment that all the bodies we had seen belonged to our clan. Only one had been recognizable.

  The wounded animal near the hill became supper, the stag having broken two of its legs, rendering it immobile. Ara drove her stake through its heart, killing it. We drank the blood, the fluid offering hydration, although I wasn’t fond of the taste. Before carving out chunks of meat, Ara and I scoured the ground for firewood, not finding anything dry. We did drag a few large pieces of wood to camp, although they were damp.

  “We can use a basket to start the fire,” I said. “The grass here is dry. It can be kindling.”

  “I’ll see if Kia wants to rub sticks together. I know she’s tired.”

  My shoulders slumped, exhaustion settling upon me. “I’ll look for more wood.”

  Moments before the sun disappeared behind the mountain, we lit the fire, smoke rising from our little hill, the aroma of grilling meat making my mouth water. I longed to eat, praying we had enough wood to cook the meal. Most of the animal would go to waste, unfortunately, but we would prepare the hide tomorrow and use it for bedding. Sitting around the fire, we ate in silence, the crackling and the hissing of damp wood producing a fair amount of smoke.

  “It won’t stay lit long,” murmured Kia. She chewed her portion of meat, the center bright red.

  Finding several hollow pieces of wood, we filled them with cloudy, dirty water. Using two branches, I lifted a rock from the fire, dropping it in, where it bubbled on contact. We did this repeatedly, and once it cooled, we had clean water to drink, although the taste wasn’t to my liking.

  Not having enough wood, the flames soon died, but they had served their purpose, allowing us to cook the meat and boil water. I sat next to Kia, who lay on the grass, staring at the black night sky, a mass of sparkling stars overhead.

  “Thank you for supper,” she murmured. “The gods smiled upon us today.”

  Ara chewed on a piece of meat, nodding. “I agree. We’ve been very lucky.”

  Our emotions ran from despair to gratitude, often in the space of a few hours. I took a sip of water, the fluid tasting awful, but it quenched my thirst. “Where will we go?”

  Kia sighed. “Wherever the wind takes us.”

  I had hoped to see members of the clan, wondering where they could be. “I wish we had more wood.” Chilled from the night air, I folded my arms over my legs. “The pelt’s not ready for use yet.” We had to scrape and dry it, a task reserved for the morning.

  “It’s a shame to waste all that meat,” murmured Ara. “It was good.”

  “There’s no more wood, and we’ve one less basket.”

  “Tomorrow will bring new challenges,” said Kia. “We’ll find dryer ground soon enough.”

  “And our clan.” I felt certain this would happen, staring into the darkness above and yearning for Ronan. Sitting by the fire reminded me of him, how comforting and safe it had been in his presence. “Where do you think they are?”

  “Perhaps they’re looking at the same sky right now,” said Ara. “They might be.”

  I hoped to see a cooking fire, but we seemed to be the only ones in the valley. The cry of an animal shattered the quiet. We listened to it for a while, the sound drifting.

  “Sleep, girls,” entreated Kia. “You need your rest. The earth feels good against my back. It’s far better than wood. I might sleep very well tonight. I suggest you do the same. Save your strength. You’ve done more than enough today. I’m proud of you both.”

  Although in shadow, I smiled at Ara. “My belly is finally satisfied.”

  “Mine too. I could go three days now without food.”

  “I prefer not.”

  “I hope we find dry ground tomorrow.”

  “But then the water will disappear. If it’s too dry, what will we drink?” Exposed to the elements in the middle of a vast prairie, we did not have access to a river.

  “You think too much,” murmured Kia. “We’ll manage somehow.”

  I settled in next to her, with Ara on the other side, wishing we had another pelt. Things tickled and bit me in the night, the buzzing of an insect by my ear annoying. I sat up, gazing at
the blackness, although the giant orb in the sky illuminated the valley just beneath it, leaving the rest in darkness.

  The howl of an animal drifted into the distance … sending a shiver down my spine. That wasn’t a wolf or one of those other dog-like creatures that yapped when they made a kill. That cry belonged to a predator. We were now vulnerable—out in the open—in the middle of their hunting ground.

  Chapter Twenty

  The search for water proved harder than anticipated, although it often surrounded us, but we could not drink it. Parched and exhausted, we wandered for many days, finding a turtle one morning, which we cooked over a spitting fire, the wood still damp. Filthy from the mud, my body looked nearly as browned as my mother and sister. Often I felt either too hot in the sun or too cold at night, and never truly comfortable.

  Our lives consisted of foraging as we went, often eating something raw when we found it and sleeping at a new camp every night, the firewood never lasting very long. The flood brought out all manner of insects. Enormous black bugs crawled around, and the tiny, buzzing ones left welts all over my skin come morning. Being coated in a layer of mud helped to ward them off, but a few still managed to bite me.

  The grassland, having soaked up all the water, now grew in abundance, edible roots and mushrooms everywhere, although a few species could not be eaten. We came upon a sparkling, rushing stream on one of our walks, Ara kneeling to have a drink.

  “It’s clean,” she said, smiling.

  I bent to taste it, admiring its perfection, small pebbles plainly visible on the bottom. “What good fortune.” I needed to bathe, not being fond of icy water, but I had to remove the layers of dried mud from my body. “I want to wash, but I don’t want to ruin the water.”

  “Find a spot further down. I’ll do the same.”

  Kia approached, a spear firmly in her grip. “We could stay here for the day.”

  “I like it.” Getting to my feet, I trudged along the edges of the brook. “I'm going to bathe.”

  “You hate that,” murmured Kia.

  “I’m itchy everywhere. It feels like my skin’s crawling.”

  “Mine too.” Ara followed behind me. “Wait!”

  We sat by the edge of the water and scrubbed our feet, removing encrusted dirt. A gust of wind blew through the tall stalks of prairie grass, bringing a chill. Shivering, I gritted my teeth and got in fully, sitting in the cold water as the mud began to loosen from my skin and float away.

  “It’s so cold.”

  “I’ll never complain about water ever again.” Ara scrubbed her face. “It’s wonderful, even cold.”

  “True.”

  The gentle current took away the mud, leaving my body glowing, although I sported various insect bites here and there, some itching me. Throwing my head forward, I scrubbed my hair, which released all manner of floating particles, things drifting downstream. When I could tolerate the cold no longer, I stepped from the water, wringing out my hair, while glancing at Kia. She stood with her back to me, her hands on her hips.

  “Will you not bathe?”

  “In a moment,” she said absently. “Come here, child. Your eyesight’s better than mine. Tell me what you see over there.” She pointed to the lush grassland and the hills beyond.

  Squinting in the sun, I held a hand above my eyes. I thought I saw movement, something dark—the figure of what might be a man. Kia and Ara could not see great distances, their eyesight poor. It had always been like this. “I … is that a man?”

  “What does it look like?”

  “I need to be closer.”

  Her hand clamped around my shoulder. “No. It’s too dangerous. I’m going to wash now.”

  As she walked away, I continued to stare, fascinated by what this might mean. Finding a small hill, I sat in the center of it, holding my hands above my eyes, focusing intently on the place where I thought I saw someone. A moment later, another man appeared. Squinting, I noted they seemed to come from some sort of hole or opening in a rocky place, the land barren there, yet lush beneath.

  “Mamma says you see something.” Ara sat next to me, a blade of grass in her mouth. “What is it?”

  “I don’t know. Men, I suppose.”

  “What do they look like?”

  I had to think about that, realizing they weren’t like the men of our clan. I eyed her. “They’re dark like you.”

  “Oh.” She did not seem overly concerned. “I’ll speak to mamma about it. She knows her people well. She speaks their language.”

  “If we make a fire, they’ll see it.”

  “Yes. We’d best be careful about that.” She chewed on a blade of grass. “They’re my people too, you know.”

  “Do you speak the language?”

  “No, perhaps a little.”

  Our clan did not mix with these people, finding them too primitive. From what I gathered, they killed them when they could. I wasn’t certain gaining their notice would benefit us in the least, the prospect even dangerous.

  Settling in to sleep after sunset, I yearned for a fire, mamma agreeing not to light one. We sat on a little hill, preferring to be higher to see for greater distances, watching for danger. As the last vestiges of daylight disappeared behind the mountain, a light flickered in the distance, but not where the men camped.

  “Do you see that?” I asked, pointing. “What’s that?”

  Kia’s mouth fell open. “Someone’s fire.”

  “They don’t know about the men on the hill, do they?” said Ara. “They don’t know.”

  “We should see who they are.” Could they be from our clan?

  “No.” Kia grasped my arm. “No.”

  “But, they could be Ronan and Enwan. They could be people we know.”

  “Or a hostile group. It’s best to keep to ourselves.”

  The fire wasn’t far off, the light glowing in the darkness. “I want to have a look.”

  “Me too,” said Ara, surprising me. “We can get closer and watch them. If they’re dangerous, we’ll leave.”

  Grabbing a spear, I got to my feet. “Let’s go.”

  “You both seek to defy me.”

  “They could be members of our clan, Mamma,” said Ara. “We have to look. They’re unaware of the clan in the rocks. We should warn them to put the fire out before they’re detected.”

  “It’s already too late,” murmured Kia. “They would’ve been seen. If you go there now, you’ll put yourself in harm’s way.”

  “Or both groups of people are friendly,” I said. “We could all come together and help one another.”

  “You’ve an optimistic nature, child. I … don’t want to be the one to tell you otherwise, but different people often do not get along. You saw how the clan treated Ara and me. They barely tolerated us. They only took us in because you’re like them. That was why we were allowed to live with them.”

  “But Ronan and Enwan were kind. They treated you like they treat everyone.”

  “Because of you. Ronan adores you.”

  “It’s not only because of me.”

  “There was something open about Ronan and Enwan, wasn’t there?” murmured Ara. “They were … kinder than most.”

  “Yet it doesn’t change how people are. If you approach that fire, you might regret it. We’ve only just begun to recover from the ordeal. I’d hate for something new to go wrong.”

  “We can’t wander around on our own like this forever.” I hated it. I yearned for Ronan and a warm fire. I desired the life he promised, of the land beyond the mountain where we could live together in peace. I thought about it every day, praying to the gods to find him again.

  “Let’s go, if we’re going to do it.” Ara held a spear. “We’ll be very quiet. We won’t make a sound.”

  Kia got to her feet. “Then I’m going with you. I don’t like it, but we mustn’t separate.” She held a spear, taking the basket and the pelt. “Don’t make a sound.”

  Excited at the prospect of finding others of our kind,
I fell into step behind Kia, with Ara to my side. We did not have to venture far before the fire came into view, several women sitting around it. Sucking in a stunned breath, I thought I recognized them, a child there too. They seemed to sense our presence, the women jumping to their feet, with wild, fearful eyes. One held a rock, while the other brandished a sturdy branch, which made our weapons look far superior.

  “Who goes there?” shouted a woman.

  I recognized her as Lascox’s wife. She looked tired, with hair tangled about her shoulders. “Ola. It’s Peta.” I stepped into her line of sight. “Hello.” I smiled, elated to see someone from our clan. “We found you.”

  The women gaped at us, the child wide-eyed. I worried they would not treat Kia and Ara kindly, having shunned them in camp, but Ola approached, her expression a mixture of relief and astonishment.

  “Peta?”

  “Yes.” I nodded. “We’ve been looking for our clan. Where is everyone?” The other women neared, and I recognized Ena. She had been cavorting secretly with Enwan. “Ena.” I did not know the other woman or child, but I had seen them often enough in camp.

  Silence filled the air, shattered by the sound of crackling wood from the fire. Ola glanced at each of us, her eyes resting upon me. “I never thought to see anyone again.”

  “Yet, here we are.”

  She eyed our makeshift weapons, her mouth working, but no sound came out. A flood of tears appeared in her eyes.

  Ena stepped forward. “It’s good to see you all. I thought everyone had perished. Most of the women and children with us died.”

  That news stunned me. “What?”

  “The water. It came in so suddenly. We clung to trees, but some chose to swim away. They thought they could find their men, but we haven’t seen them since.”

  “We stayed in the trees for many days,” said the woman, whose name I did not know. “Some drank the filthy water. They sickened. They all died. The children … too.” Tears filled her eyes. “I’ve lost my family.”