Cursed Howl

Snow dangled from the branches. Some would fall, drifting onto my back. I shook it from my coat as I ran. And as I ran, I reveled. Through the long shadows given shape by pillars of pine. Over frozen creeks and jutting stones. My pants became a synchronous chant rising to a crescendo as my adrenaline peaked. A surreal song which electrified my body in my dance with the wilds. Pain would set in. An ache in the joints, an invisible needle in my side. I jerked my head at its coming. Breaking through a gate of branches and brush I emerged from the claustrophobic womb that had nurtured my rebirth. What awaited me beyond was nothing short of paradise.

Shimmering crystals left behind by the frozen tears of the sky. It shimmered under pale glow. Softly, fell the trickling of the faintest particles of gentle frost. The last remnants of a migrating system. Stars beamed brightly through the thinning clouds. Lamplights dotting the cosmos which served as beacons for my trek. Yet, dwarfing them all in majesty was the luminous center of it all. It pulled me with invisible cords by the sockets of my eyes. Clasping around the pumping valves of my heart. The face of euphoric nights. It beams fixed upon me and fulfilled me in its majesty. Only now, just setting from its apex, do I feel its mesmeric spell begin to fade. I tilted back my head and closed my eyes. My lungs filled with dire heat. I let loose the air of my soul and rent the quiet night with a wild howl.

I continued this way, singing to my nature within the sight of my love. My longing word was met in kind. Returned to me were the calls of my kin. To hear them was mercy. I feared they had left. That they had ranged beyond the peaks which I had not the time or means to pass, either around or over. That they had made new grounds for their hunts, their mating, and their pack play. I let out one more bellowing howl. Deep and commanding, it would beckon them to me.

Awaiting my friends I indulged in simple pleasures. I dug holes in the snow. Burrowing deep into the soil in a spattering of random spots. I found broken branches that I could snatch with my maw and toss about into the air. Watching them fall, I chased the twigs and tested them against my bite. Breaking them into little pieces, I made within the snow a portrait of my freedom. My paw prints wound about in paths like half-moons as I chased my feral fancies. The broken limbs of trees, further broken by my merriment, became long disjointed serpents over a white ocean. I spied a small creature fly from its hiding place. It emerged near a hole I dug. Sensing the coming of the pack must have startled it. A white hare, it bounded over the thick pillow of snow without a moment’s hesitation. I sprung up on my hind legs, feigning interest to chase. I bound towards it and let out a ragged whine. The hare moved with haste at my urging. Its long and springy feet left only the faintest imprint. I dug around the hole it sprang from. My nose in the dirt, registering the scents. The canine call enraptured me. Suddenly my ears perked up.

Emerging from the trees behind me were my true family. They encircled me and sniffed at me. Some jumped about curiously. Some whined with excitement while others barked eagerly. I sunk my front legs into the ground and my tail was wagging without a thought. Then I sprung up at a grey snout which had laid itself in front of me. The nosy one leapt back in surprise at first. Then with an exuberant turn of tail, we began to play. The rest joined in, and we spent the high night running about our wood gated playpen. Nipping and shoving. Rolling and frolicking. My body was awash with joy like I had not known since those long-lost days of innocence. A memory of the soul that one only knows from feeling. It was purity. A kind of peace claimed by and through the gateway of instinct. And between us there was nothing but knowing and trust. For even within my shadow, which eclipsed the rest in the pack, none feared me. I played rough and made fun of rolling around in the fluff. I let my belly be seen.

We embraced in frivolity until we tired. We laid for a while in the snow, and I noticed that my friend’s exhaustion went beyond the mere exertion of our play. They had sunk deeply into the snow as we formed into a huddled ring. I felt their panting. It was soft. It was restless. Some had become thinner since we last met. And it was just now that I noticed the pack numbered six. Before, there were nine.

While there is time I must act. I closed my eyes and sought to feel the earth beneath me. I dug out a dry spot in the snow to my friends’ confusion then curled myself into the clearing. I stilled my heart and opened all my senses. My ears heard through the channels in my body, connecting to the earth. My nostrils flared wide and inhaled all the air that began to spin around us. I needed a gift to come my way. My trance deepened and I pleaded in silence to this cold world. A great gust rose from a near and deep valley, cresting over the rise of a saddle which lay a short distance ahead of us. The gale brought a scent, faint, but telling. It told a story of musk and moisture. I focused on the earth beneath me and attuned my ear.. I pointed my focus in the direction of the breeze’s origin. Again, faint, a vibration that rang as a distant whisper. It was enough.

I stood and my hungry pack-fellows looked upon me quizzically. My legs moved of their own accord into a purposed stride. My allies soon followed. I climbed up the shallow rise of the saddle and looked down at its steep descent. It was lined with pines and firs, disparate from one another. It was a long way down. Yet, the land flattened at numerous points showing a quick, if precipitous, path. It was the path; there was no room for trepidation lest the signs be lost. I ran with as much ease and alacrity as my limbs allowed. To receive each step in this brisk descent. To touch the earth and stone that made themselves known. I dug my paws in at places. Propelling onward against narrow, sidelong footings. One small berm to the next, and the way down became narrower than I imagined.

I trusted my pack to follow in tow. I trusted in their nature and their serene place within these lands. They are worthy. Their bonds are the bending tops of mighty trees. They may waver and suffer but they will not fall to these elements. At least, not this day. I refused to look back, our only hope was in looking ahead. I used my weight as best I could to dig in the ground and leave flat spots where my friends could follow in my wake. A small fear in me; that I would hear the whelping scream of a comrade whose strength had wavered. Falling into a doom that lay in the unmoving resistance of an insensitive cradle of jagged and icy stones, or the wall of trees that shaped themselves along the floor. A distraction of the mind.

Halfway to the valley floor and my focus slipped. I nearly lost my footing. My mind became clear again as I recovered myself and resolved in my heart to conquer this descent. I dug even deeper into ground which began to soften as we came closer to the low ground. I felt myself sinking. The ground yielded me no purchase. The snow loosened under me and gave way. My packmates had caught me only to exacerbate the slide. I fought to keep upright. My legs shot out in opposite directions. My body yielded and I tumbled. We fell together. I let go, accepting the angry tide that sought to sweep us unto death. There was no more fighting. I closed my eyes.

Alive, I lay side long. Packed beneath the snow. I wiggled around to see if there was any chance for freedom. At first the act seemed futile. I became forlorn beneath the heavy hand of winter. And then, I felt the struggle of the pack around me, they were close. I could feel their heat between the liminal layers. In desperation we struggled as one. Against the thick blanket that tried to lay us to our endless slumber we turned and twisted. Gaps started to form between my limbs and there was solid ground beneath! I hit it with my snout, a rise. Feral force fueled the fire of my will. I rolled angrily and with every sinuous fiber aching in my muscles to regain balance in this crucible, I rose. My head peered from underneath this near shallow grave. I stood tall and still I found myself surrounded. The snow was up to the middle of my body. For my friends, they struggled to keep their necks above the white. Ahead of us, the savior which braced our fall. A hill that gently rose above the packed mound. It was wide and grooved like the knuckles of a fist. Four small humps jutted upward, its little peaks. A step upward, then another, and I was light, free.

We stood, every one of us. None had perished and I thanked our fool’s luck. We strode over the crest of the fist for a moment shaking ourselves clean. I sensed to see if it was still there. The whisper. It had blossomed into a true scent and sound. My siblings could sense it too. It was moving away from us, certainly startled by the chaos of our slippery descent. The pack became quiet but started to salivate. I caught myself forming the waters in my mouth as well. The bubbling virility that stirred within, a thrill. We tread into the denseness of untrekked forest. Slinking our heads low, we fanned out as we scouted in the search for satiation.

I had taken the direct route towards the signs. Three broke from my left, eastward. Another group of two made for an on off angle splitting south and slightly west. One came with me. She was the hardiest of the females and the quickest. We hunted together before, what felt like an age ago. It was succor to my heart to stride alongside her again. She was lightning. I would be the thunder that followed her speed. The excitement of my simmering blood moved me forward. She took the lead, being smaller and stealthier, she sniffed around the ground here and there as we moved. My motions became precise, meticulous. I would not upset her as she stalked. The forest opened its doors to us as we approached a babbling brook. The creek ran wide. It undulated as it flowed, eastward and down.

Stalking, smelling, seeing; any little disturbance we could find to keep our trail moving. Tossed stones at the edge of the creek guided us along its shores. We did not come too close to the edge for fear of kicking anything into the water. The thin sheet of snow here masked our sounds over rough ground so long as we remained careful in our steps. Crossing the river before we spotted our quarry, risked ending our hunt prematurely. But, we were lucky. We spotted the prize. Across the river and hugging a gapped palisade of trees beyond the flows was a large Bull. Tall, thickly coated, with great wide antlers resting atop his sloping brow. He grunted with relief as he dug his back into bark. Scratching his itch had cost him dearly. He snapped his gaze at us and that was it. A split second of unwanted revelation. And then, realization.

My partner leapt into action, and the chase began. She moved quickly over the river; the water did little to slow her charge. The horned giant took a straight path through the clearing, following the river as best and close he could. A wise move. For to his right our companions flanked him. They had managed to gain the advantage of cover among the trees. The duo had finding a way around the waters brought their pincer into play. I stayed on the other side of the stream, while my partner ran directly behind the great game. Her legs moved with the lightness of air. She was nearly close enough to strike, but alone it would have been impossible. The right flank began to converge inward from a break in the forest. The reach of their cover ended. They emerged; their movements forced the Bull a little closer to the edge of the waters. To the point where he was tossing up a flurry with his hooves. Until, finally, the creek narrowed enough that he could cut across it in one stride.

I was on his path now. The darting huntress retained her sharp pace, ensuring the prey would not cross again. And whilst I had struggled for easy paths amidst the trees and shifting stones in the woodland behind us, there was nothing ahead which could hinder me. I took advantage of my weight, and my size became my ally in the straight chase. I let the momentum of the coming slope carry me on. The duo joined with my hunting companion, and they measured their pace to mirror that of the Bull’s. The waters sped with our gradual descent into a vast open bowl. It was deep clearing flanked by a miles-long wall of white-capped pines running north and surrounded by the shadow of a serpentine mountain range. The mountains slithered from behind the truncated southern woods reaching around the land like a sickle. A portent of bounty.

The jaws would soon shut. I labored for all my worth, reckless and quick. I bore down on the beast, and he quickened his pace before trying in desperation to turn towards the expanse of northern foliage and fir. He halted and bucked. His eyes wide with the terror he found in his race to safety. The left flank had emerged to his dreadful surprise. They wasted no time as they bared their fangs at him. They barked and they cried the hymns of savage battle as their enemy attempted to throw his body at them, bucking, and kicking at them with his hind legs. The right flank soon encircled him. I strode forward closing the door at last. Such a rare moment and I would not let my glory be stolen by my kin. I lunged as my packmate’s were climbing on his rear, biting at his heels. Our deathly dance. Consecrated in the spiraling cadence of our fight and his fall, crimson stained the purity of this now sacred clearing. Our choreography had brought honor to our lives and to the night sky. The moon our illumined witness. The sickle became the backdrop for a hard-earned harvest. In this act we were immortalized.

My brothers and sisters had painted their faces with the markings of warriors. It was my gift to them and one that came none too soon. On the horizon I could feel it, the loathing stone in my breast which brought my spirits low. The night showed its darkest visage during our attack. The first phase of twilight. My time was running short. I took a piece of the kill, a trophy. The heart was what I craved. The strength of this Bull, a memento of its majesty, to live forever mingled with the blood in my veins. The rest, I left for my family. Sorrow grew in me. Its prickling thorns stung at my fading feral form. I was lucky to meet them again. I wondered if the pack will be even thinner come the next cycle. Will I even see them again? Yet, looking at them now, they exuded a strength in their electrified forms. Their hairs stood high and their eyes spoke of fire within. It warmed me. A flash of pride and of knowing. When that left me, and I left them, it made the hurt even greater.

I ran through the woods once again. The pain was biting at me, furious with my negligence. My bones were becoming brittle and angry under my weight. My stride waned as night bled into dawn. My insides were boiling. My mind struggled to retain the feral bliss which had set me free of my weakness. My legs came closer and felt clumsier. I began to lumber. With what little remained left in me, I stumbled along. I scented the ashes of a fire. It was near. The spherical hut, drowned logs, and ash.

The strain of my desperate flight had numbed me. My head swirled as colors started to pop back into my retina. I collapsed; my bones began to crack and reshape themselves. My warm coat shed, I lay in naked disgrace on the frigid forest floor. I howled in pain, but my kin would not answer me now. They were the howls of a lesser thing, a cursed thing. Followed by the groans of a man returned to perdition. The grinding and shifting and burning of all that was within me became more than I could bear. My tears were rampant as the levy of my spirit broke once again. It was too much then. It is too much now. Another cycle. Another dream lost to the drowning rays of the sun.