Aurora Borealis (pt.8)

Aurora Borealis (pt.8)

It was one week later that the three of us left the city. I started to lead us to the hole I had found in the fence, but Iga knew another way out. She seemed anxious to be away from the place, though I couldn’t say I blamed her. Shadow and I had barely made it through the fence when Iga took off. In an instant the blonde woman before me was gone and a beautiful, silver wolf took her place. Huge, grey-blue, reptilian wings spread from her back. Shadow and I stood, transfixed by the sight before us. Iga wasn’t quite flying, but her paws were hardly touching the snow as she ran. With a bound she took to the air, howling at the waxing moon. There was so much joy in the sound and she turned sharply to fly back over us before touching down and heading off in the direction we had decided to travel.
Shadow and I raced after. One look at the wolf cub next to me told me he was enjoying the frost and the wind on his face. With a howl he picked up speed and took off toward Iga. I struggled to keep up with them, but I didn’t mind. It felt good to run full out with no real reason besides simply wanting to.
We ran for hours. We watched the stars set and the sun rise through the snow. Still we ran. I was mid afternoon before we stopped. The stop was sudden, I nearly slid into Shadow as I tried to find my footing on the ice. But then I saw Iga’s huge wings spread out before him. She had stopped him.
“There’re plains up ahead,” she said excitedly.
“What do you think we’ve been running across?” I quipped. I was getting hungry. It had been the better part of four days since our last meal.
Iga just rolled her eyes at me. “No snow. These are the Painted Fields. There’s a pack of wolf Canthines that live there.”
“You sure?” Shadow asked.
Iga nodded. “I grew up just north of here. I know this place like the back of my paw.”
“Lead the way,” I shrugged. Anything was better than more snow.

Nevertheless we ended up waiting out a snow storm that night. Iga had assured us the plains were no more than two day’s run ahead, but it didn’t feel like we were getting anywhere. Shadow had caught a couple more rabbits. It seemed that they were the only creatures who lived in this god forsaken place. After he had come back with them we all sat around eating and talking. We had formed a pack, but we still didn’t know much about each other.
“Isolf,” Shadow said, turning to look at me. “Why do you travel?”
“I have no home,” I said with a sigh.
Iga hummed softly. “I don’t think that’s true.”
“How so?” I asked.
She just smiled. “Look around. You think you have no home? What about Shadow?”
Shadow and I looked at each other and then at Iga, but she was still smiling that all knowing smile.
“You don’t travel because you have no home,” she said. “You travel in order to find a home.”
I resisted the urge to point out the redundancy of her statement because I wanted to hear her logic.
“You think that home is the pack you were born into and the place you grew up,” she smiled. “But that’s not true at all. Home is whoever you feel safe with. Wherever the people you care about are, that’s home. Surely you know that, Shadow.” She took a moment to take in Shadow’s bewildered expression before continuing. “Your eyes tell me that much. You’re still so young, but your eyes seem old. What’s happened to you?”
But Shadow turned away. “It’s nothing. Just an old story.”
Iga shrugged and tore another chunk out of the meat she had been allotted. Somehow the blood splattered across her muzzle did nothing to make her look fiercer. Maybe it was her bright violet eyes that just seemed so peaceful. Even the reptilian wings didn’t make her frightening.
“What about you?” I asked. “What happened to your pack?”
Iga frowned. “There was a fire.”
“But your kind can fly,” Shadow pointed out.
“There were hunters,” she said, staring off into the distance. “Humans from a city nearby. They set the fire that killed my pack. They set fire to our woods and shot anyone who tried to get out.”
I winced at that. “My pack was killed by humans, too.”
Iga gave me a sympathetic look.
“There was a woman who lived with my pack when I was a cub. She died of old age, but a group of humans found the place we had buried her. They claimed we had killed her,” I said.
“I’m sorry,” the silver wolf said. “But what about you, Shadow? I know the Storm Sky pack is still alive and flourishing.”
“Drop it,” Shadow growled, tearing of another chunk of meat. Unlike Iga, the blood on his teeth and muzzle made him look like a hell-hound. Again, I think it was the eyes. His were wild.
“I heard a story from there a few years back,” Iga said cautiously. “Of twin cubs. One of them was killed by the pack leader and the other was driven out onto the plains. You’re the surviving brother aren’t you?”
In an instant Shadow was on his paws, growling and snapping at Iga. But when I intervined he took off across the plains. I froze, watching the wolf cub’s retreating back. When at last he was nothing more than a black speck against the snow, I turned back to Iga.
“Go,” she said urgently.
“But what about you?” I asked. I had no doubts that Shadow would be alright on his own for a while, being a wolf Canthine, but I wasn’t as sure about Iga.
Iga replied with one word. “Home.”
She nodded and spread her wings. She could find us from the air if need be. She’d be alright. Without another moment of hesitation I took off after the younger Canthine.
I ran on even after I had lost sight of him. I could still track him by scent, so I refused to give up. The only thing I could see was the snow, all I could hear was the wind, all I could taste was the cold, all I could feel was the ice beneath my paws, and I could just barely smell Shadow’s scent mixed with the smell of frost. It brought back memories of hunting with my pack. Memories of the sound of howls and the taste of deer blood. Memories of the comradery of those times. I could feel myself picking up speed. I put my head down and ran on through the snow.
Finally I came to a stop when I spotted a dark shape on the horizon. It was Shadow. He was curled up in the snow with the tip of his tail over his face. At first glance he seemed to be asleep, but as I approached him I noticed the irregularity of his breathing. He was sobbing. Or, at least, that’s what it looked like. That was, until I got closer and noticed the red tint of the snow beneath him.