Her ears perked at the sound of the wolves howl in the distance, “Ah fuck,” was all she could think as her head shot up, eyes scanning the surrounding area, as if her vision could penetrate the darkness beyond the small fire before her.

“As long as I keep this fire alive, I should be good,” she told herself.

The young flame she had been tending to barely spat with life as it flickered, the blazing coals pulling her attention away from the dark woods that lay beyond the embankment where she’d set camp. The sound of rushing waves, slapping the sandy beach of the cove she’d used to come ashore, assured her the call to pull to land had been the right one. Further in, trees and brush grew wildly in scattered patches. It was amongst these she had stowed her flipped kayak within.

Years ago, during one of her first expeditions to the mountains, a fellow kayaker had not brought their kayak far enough in land, and overnight the water levels had risen, and the tide had taken the vessel out along with it. Luckily enough they eventually found it, but the situation all together as a whole, had taken their journey a day and a half off course. Leaving this section of the journey unviewed. Able to make the trek again years later, Atilda found herself out on the expedition once again. Knowing the majority of the rivers course already, it was only the last day and a half of travel she’d yet to encounter, when she’d made the decision to take the chance, and journey it alone. And so with no one but herself to rely on, out amongst the flowing waters, she had to take extra precautions with her water craft at all times.

The day itself had started off rightly fine, the sun shined high amongst a few scattered clouds, but somewhere around evening, a cold strong wind picked up without warning, and in a matter of minutes, dark heavy clouds swallowed the autumn sky. Even though she was an hour away from sunset, she did not wish to be caught in a possible, thunderous, down pour. Seeing no other option but to pull-in, Atilda began to survey the land to her left and right for any possible openings, the width of the river being equal to a six lane expressway. When one was spotted on her left, she quickly paddled her way ashore, set up her one person tent as quickly as she could, and immediately began searching for branches, twigs and pinecones.

After a few minutes of striking her tinder box against the growing winds, and huffing into slow burning leaves, a proper fire took to life; it’s spark fueled by the sap that seeped out from the dried out pinecones, the likes of which burst to flames the moment the flint caught.

Unfortunately, after only a few minutes with the small source of warmth, Atilda felt the first raindrops hit her head. Reaching out to gauge the heft of the down pour, she quickly realized it was pointless. The fire she’d been working so hard on for the past fifteen minutes was quickly being smothered; burning branches and twigs hissed while strips of white smoke arose, molded and converged into streams. Sighing heavily to herself, Atilda did not waste time sulking, but rather swiftly found refuge in her small, single person tent. It was a snug fit. She knew laying for a bit of time would become uncomfortable, but for the moment to stay dry, and out of the rain, it was a blessing.

Each minute that passed only seemed to add credence to the roaring storms might as the remaining natural light grew dimmer. The weight from the gathered rains downpour was now threatening to tear down the small, plastic, metal tipped, collapsible rods that stood as the only safe guard between safe and dry, or wet and exposed to the elements. The polyester sides of her tent flapped violently from the howling wind…was that just the wind?

Feeling helpless as ever, a ragdoll for natures ferocity to twist, pivot and throw in any way it wished….

Atilda could do nothing but lay on her back, staring at the top of the tiny arched roof, and wait out this sudden, horrid storm. Alongside her she carried a single pocket sized flashlight, whose light shined down her side, casting a shadow amongst the rippling walls. Having retreated to her tent in such haste, she cussed at herself for leaving her lantern beside the campfire. So great was its light, her friends had called it ‘The Sun’, for they swore they could see up to a quarter of a mile at night when it was at its max power.

Thinking of her friends, and their last excursion into the depths of the mountain, Atilda never felt the lengthy, multi-legged insect crawl upon her arm, and then to her back. Only when it had journey from her long, pulled back auburn hair, to the side of her cheek, did she become aware. Suppressing a scream, she quickly grabbed at the bug and threw it away, scrambling up into a seated position in the process. Catching her breath, and letting it out with an inward chuckle, she felt all the tension leave her body as she finally saw what it was. Scattering away frantically, despite one of its legs being crunched, a daddy long leg skittered alongside the tent, desperately seeking an escape from the massive giant that had just thrown it.

Allowing the laugh to escape her throat, Atilda quickly covered her own mouth as she realized too late, that making any sounds was a mistake. While caught in the angst of dealing with the daddy long leg, she’d failed to hear the approach of someone, or something, not very far. Only now, after she’d laughed aloud, did she hear a thud upon the ground. Whatever it was, it had halted its movement.

Attempting to muffle the volume of her own breathing as much as she could, with strained ears Atilda listened for any other sounds other than rainfall, beyond the reaches of her tent. Listening past the heavy pattering of rain striking the water nearby, and the puddles that had formed in the past few minutes, she found herself able to hear only the slightest of shifting noises, as if whatever had been moving was at it again, just much slower now.

Trying to picture in her mind the best she could on where the soft footsteps were falling, Atilda felt her pulse quicken, her muscles seize, and her breath caught at the sound metal banging and the shattering of glass. Her thoughts turned to her lantern.

They were only a few feet away….

Wishing to take control of the situation, Atilda forced herself to breathe slowly, so to not be gripped with fear, and be able to take stock of every passing moment. In her right hand, she slowly slid free the hunting dagger she always kept strap to her side; rather in the woods or amongst civilization, beasts were always around. She could only move slowly in a very methodically manor however, for the placement of her flashlight, silhouetted her presence upon the polyester walls. Any quick movement might cause whatever it was on the other side to act before she could. Straining her ears, she listened further for any changes in rain patterns, steps, anything at all. The sides of her tent had slowed its wild flapping, though the rain prolonged in its heavy downpour.

With her left hand free, she reached for the light that continued to cast her shadow, the thought of shutting it of passing through her mind. It would make things harder for her, she thought, but it would also give her the edge on sight. If she could shut it off and dash out of the tent, she’d be on even grounds. Grabbing a hold of the device, her thumb shifted to click the button off when a most peculiar sound came from her left side. Barely a foot away from her face, the sound of an animal covered in fur, shaking water from its coat that pelted the tent with more rain, sent running a cold, breathe stealing shiver down Atilda’s backside.

Her mind instantly jumped to the wolves she’d heard howling just before the rain began….

Having unknowingly caught her breath, only when she felt her hands begin to tremble did she become aware, and with control, let out a slow breath, that allowed her to push away the horrible thoughts that began to dance on display before her inner eye.

So focused on listening beyond the storm, Atilda failed to catch on to the fact the rain pulled back from its previous down pour, leading into a more puttering ambiance. All her ears could perceive, was that of soft steps, which so happen to belong to the four legged creature strolling beside her tent. Numbers flooded her mind as she began to wonder how many had stepped into her camp when the wall to her right, caved in just the slightest. Its form taking the likes of a large wolf’s shoulder; front and back legs came to life as the wild hound pushed itself against her flimsy tents. There was a sudden splashing of water on the other side, from the puddle that had formed atop of the tent, causing the animal to investigate.

Fear gripped her mind so fiercely, she felt plastered to the very spot she sat. Her heart simply refused to slow down no matter how slowly she forced her breath, and though she wiped them several times, her sweaty palms were making it even more difficult for her to keep a good grip on both, flashlight and dagger hilt.

Eyes ever watching her left, Atilda barely avoided another passing beast as it pushed itself against the right side; the metal tipped plastic rods having taken so much weight already from the passing storm, creaked now with a warning that they were to give way if any more pressure was applied.

In her ears a long ringing pitch deafened Atilda’s hearing, for fear had begun to override her senses, pushing her into a dull sense of presence, where there were no deaths imagined or even escaping, but rather a higher place of acknowledgement. A place, one can only ever enter when balancing on the edge of life. Where one step left is death, and one step right is life, and vice versa. To know it, is to have fully lived, but to truly experience it, one must venture where most never wish to be. Yet, to even understand a fraction of it, one must be willing to meet it half-way…

A deep growl, from the depths of the wolf’s belly, barely a few feet away, pulled her from the depths of her mind. A shuddering breath passed her lips while listening for any responses. Silent tears streaked down her face…why hadn’t she thought of brining a rifle? It was too late now. All she had was her blade, and they, far much more. When the replying grow responded, some distance behind where she sat, all Atilda could do to keep from bursting into uncontrollable tears, was a deep inner hope that all would be okay.  Not knowing how many surrounded her, made this exhaustingly, horrible situation, far-far worse, for it pulled at her imagination. Teasing it, pushing it, to create endless packs surrounding her small, one person tent, or perhaps it was only just the two, biding their time until she moved first. Her ears racked at the different array of noises, while her mind tried desperately to decipher which belonged to what.

Turning her head this way and that, it all seemed to be cascading down upon her. The weight from her fear, the tension, the images that ran wild in her mind, ceasing to be anything other than a brutal end; it was all becoming too much. Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, and welcomed death with open arms, a vision passed in her mind. She saw herself unzipping the front flap that acted as her door, and dashing into the rivers waters only a short distance away. If she could remember it properly, the little beach on the edge of the cove she pulled into was only fifty feet away.

This was it!

This vision had been all that she was waiting for.

Prepping herself mentally, Atilda took a breath and…

Arrrroooooo!

There was no chance to escape; there was no last breath to take. A second later the metal rods snapped, and the tents polyester sides were torn through by long, sharp nails, protruding from two sets of massive paws, the likes of which pinned Atilda to the ground, cracking her ribs in the process. The flashlight she’d been holding went soaring somewhere behind, its light emitting a patch of trees. The knife she’d been desperately holding with such a death grip, that even sweaty palms couldn’t slip, was plunged into the ground a foot from where she went down.

The last Atilda ever saw, for a fleeting moment, was the razor sharp, jagged teeth of the trees silhouette, laid upon a mountainous canvas, its ambiance alit in the full moons essence.

Never once did she see the grey and brown eyes that had watched her tent with interest, afraid of what kind of beast dwell within, all while she battled with her mind, trapped within the confines of plastic, metal and rope. Deaf was she, to the other three, who stood off to the side, waiting for their chance to feast; never on her end was there a chance to react. For the moment she’d been shoved back, her head snapped against the ground, all sight and sound was no longer to be found. And the very first bite taken, had torn free a large portion of her jugular.

Not a soul to be found, other than the chirping crickets and buzzing critters, ever heard the sound of the midnight howl, marking the end of a long drought in hunt.

-----

Freezing cold, were the winds that forced her from her dark, embracing, heated home, one she’d only ever known. Awakening her from the darkness that had served her for all she knew, board her, loved her, mothered her, and now ripped from it. Why? What had she done? She was so cold. She could feel herself shivering. She tried to open her eyes but the light hurt, so blind she remained. There were other cries, she felt movement all around. They felt familiar, as though she already knew them. Overwhelmed by feelings she couldn’t understand, she tried to let out a cry, but her vocal cords had never vibrated before. It was lost amongst the others who cried alongside her.

-----

                The hunt had extended far longer, and further than her kin could have expected. The great heat above was slowly fading into the light speckled, dark sky of stories, which ran and danced until the world brightened once more, as it did every day. She’d been following her brother so closely, that when she raised her head and looked around, her familiarity ran dry; sights never seen consumed her vision. Grunting to her brother, he acknowledged with a grunt of his own, but never looked back, continuing on, determined to catch the plant eater that had evaded their clutches.

The lands she’d known since she could first remember, had shifted quickly in only a few cycles of the great circle of light in the sky. Some nights it shone so bright, she could see as though it were day, while on other nights, it never appeared at all; Swallowed by the eternal darkness, she and all others of her tribe had fallen from, to witness this existence. The great cold white that had swept the lands she and her brothers had run, rolled and played in, slowly dissipated into swaths, where browns and greens began to sprout. Splashing and playing in the puddles that formed, running around tree’s talking one another, never far from where mama said they could go, the two grew in length and in strength, until one day mama never returned from a hunt. From that day on, only a few since, she’d been following her brother.

They were mighty hungry.

With the shifting landscapes, it was quick for them to become easily lost, especially amongst lands untraveled. The large roots that protruded out of the ground had grown fur of their own. It was both beautiful and annoying, for she enjoyed looking at them far more than she enjoyed their taste, but they also blocked much of the view she and her kin had been so accumulated to. And because of that, she’d lost track of her brother. So focused on all the unfamiliarity that surrounded her, she missed his shifting in track. This struck a chord of fear within. Where was he? Why did he leave her alone? Was he in danger?

Before she could cry out, however, she heard his calling signal, letting her know he had caught their prey. Satisfied with knowing he was only a quick run away, she let out a pout of relief, shook her mane, and rushed forward. A quick trudge through a set of small, sharp, thorny, fury roots found her standing beside her brother, who was already muzzle deep into the beast he’d caught. It had small little knobs at the top of its head and was known to eat the fur off the roots. She knew for she had seen. They had watched it for some time, before her brother attacked. Sending them on the wild chase they had been at for most of the great lights time above.

Nuzzling the other half of their feast to her, she happily dug in.

Steam steadily rose in large wafts from the fresh kill. Blood gushed into her mouth with every bite, quenching the thirst she’d acquired from chasing the creature down for so many miles. The great heat above had only just returned when they’d set out on the hunt, now it laid to rest beyond the lands they could see, and in its nightly course the great circle of light arose. Its irradiance pulling her vision away from the quickly cooling meat before her, and towards the razor sharp, jagged fangs of their elders, canvased by mountains alit in the full circles essence.

Taking a deep breath, an optimal feeling consumed her senses. It was strange to try and explain for she’d never felt anything like it before. She thought of mentioning it to her brother but when she looked in his direction, he was so enthralled with his meal; she felt it was better left unsaid.

A bit of time passed before he finally raised his head, sniffed the air, and stepped off to the side, content with his fill. Taking a bit longer to enjoy the remnants of what had been left, the great circle of light reached its top most point in the sky, when she finally felt full enough to walk away. Taking their time strolling in the direction they believed they’d come from, it was a bit of time later when they noticed the landscape never shifted into familiar territory, but rather picked up a new sound amongst the chirping bugs; rushing water. It had steadily risen in pitch while they clambered their way through the root littered, forest floor. Coming to a clearing in the trees alongside the river, its waters moving swiftly downstream, the two couldn’t help but spot and stare at the mountain tops beyond.

Taking a step forward for a better viewing, her paw touched something hard and cold. Looking downwards she spotted what looked to be a hard shiny rock, but it was shaped strangely and had bits of clear sharp rock around it. Wanting to make space between her and this strange rock, she felt suddenly entranced by the decision that a closer look at the sky beyond the rushing waters, was very much needed. And as she trudged down the slopped angle, she spotted another strange anomaly. Tucked within small twigs and leg thick roots, it looked to her as though a strange tree had fallen over. Yet when she placed a paw on the strange object, she discovered it wasn’t even wood, nor even stone, but something beyond what she knew. Fear instantly replacing curiosity, she thought perhaps it’d be better to keep a good distance from these strange objects, so turning towards her brother who stood just slightly behind, his grey eyes catching her green, they silently agreed it was time to leave.

But when they walked away from this clearing, the wolf pup couldn’t help but feel a pull to look back at the space one last time. It felt so familiar. As though she’d been there before, perhaps in time she’d been another fallen light.

THE END