Ch1
Here is a happy family. An arctic fox family. At least for a while. Here is a family with a short and tragic history. Here is a family living in a den with a fierce history. The den has the history of being a home for the White Tiger. And a horrible beast he was. Killing and eating what he can. The White Tiger.
The White Tiger was only away for a while. The father in the family was so proud of his newborn pups. So proud. He teaches his pups courage. All but one. Silverwind. That pup was a coward. He had tried and tried, and tried some more. But no luck. That pup was a coward.
One fateful day, the White Tiger came back. The arctic fox father tried to protect his pups. The pups he loved. Those pups. The pups tried to help him. The courage he had taught them stood out. The family stood up to the White Tiger. All but one. Silverwind ran as fast as his tiny legs could carry him. The father watched him go. He fought the White Tiger with gaining power as he saw, out of the corners of his eyes, the White Tiger, that evil tiger, eat his brave sons and daughters whole. Then, when all of his precious pups were gone, the White Tiger turned to him. He delivered a final blow to The White Tiger's eye that scarred it forever. And the last thing he saw, or felt, was the jaws of the White Tiger close around his neck.
His body dropped to the ice. The cold, preserving ice. This ice.
Ch2
The ice felt that fall. Felt that body fall onto it. The ice saw everything, sees everything. The ice. The cold and unforgiving ice. If the ice had its own language, it would talk about all the adventures and deaths, the families and fear. The ice.
It remembers. It remembers the seal and raven, their friendship and loyalty to each other so long ago. How the raven tried to migrate, but went too far. How the seal got lost and wandered to Antarctica. How they met and pledged devotion to each other. The ice. It remembers.
You might wonder how arctic foxes got to Antarctica. The ice remembers that too. The humans. The humans brought a bunch of arctic foxes to see how they would cope in a similar, yet different habitat. Then they left. The arctic foxes scattered and made families. The ice remembers.
If you could understand the whispering voices of the ice, the cold antarctic ice, it would tell you of the raven and the seal, and the humans and the White Tiger. But most of all, it would tell you about the wonderful transformation of a certain arctic fox pup. A fox that was a coward, separated from his family forever, but became a brave hero. The very fox treading on the Antarctic ice during a blizzard. The ice always remembers. Always.
Ch3
In the cold arctic, a lone figure treks through a fierce blizzard. It is a young arctic fox. One that does not know courage. He was born a coward. He is scared and misses his parents. His dead parents. The ones he loved. The parents that tried to give him courage. His father, his family. This arctic fox did not have the bravery to run away from the beast that had killed his family. This arctic fox is a coward.
The arctic fox collapses in a snow drift from exhaustion. His mind is spinning. How can he know where he is? He passed out from fear and cold. The sleep is very deep, deep enough that he will not wake until morning.
When he wakes he remembers something. His name. Silverwind. His name is Silverwind. He was lying in a warm den, like the one he used to sleep in with his parents. This was not where he fell asleep. Where was he? As he was looking around, an arctic fox he had never seen before came to him with a dead mouse and dropped it near his head. Silverwind decided it was safe. He was hungry, very hungry. He gulped it down. And who was that? He was scared, a coward. Where was he? The question repeated itself in his mind over and over. He tried to get up. He felt weak. Where was he? Silverwind fell back and collapsed into sleep again from exhaustion.
When Silverwind woke up, he felt better. He got up and walked slowly out of the den. He saw a dozen other dens clustered together. Two dozen arctic foxes were entering and leaving the different dens. One big den was in the middle of the cluster. Silverwind knew it was important somehow. An arctic fox came over and gave him a sorry look, then she walked to the center den. And he followed her for he recognized her as the one who gave him the mouse.
Ch4
As Silverwind approached the center den he heard a young arctic fox singing. He had never heard such singing. He fell into a trance and could not hear anything but the singing, the beautiful, flowing song. The song that reached out to him and called him near. This song.
TheArcticisacoldplace,
Withnomercyandnolove.
Buttosurviveisnotarace,
Asthewindtakesyourbreath.
Sokeepyourheartatawarmpace,
Thatwillkeepyoualive.
Nowdogooddeedswithgrace,
Anddon'tforgettheArctic.
A mile or two away, the White Tiger stirred in his sleep. He had been asleep for days after his recent meal. He dreamed of the song, that beautiful, flowing song. The song that would soon wake him and have him on the prowl. The prowl for the song. That song.
Ch5
As the song ended, Silverwind realized that he might be in trouble. Just the thought of it made him dizzy. He thought about the horrible creature that killed his family, how he had run away and not looked back. Silverwind had no courage. He could not fight. Not anyone. Never.
He was not sure about anything. Where was he? How did he get here? What will the other arctic foxes do to him? Silverwind hesitated. Maybe the singing arctic fox was as nice as her song. What will he do?
There were so many dens close together that Silverwind was not sure if he was going the right way. Where was he? But then he heard it again.
Buttosurviveisnotarace,
Justtryyourbestinthecold.
Andkeepyourheartatawarmpace,
Thatwillkeepyoualive.
The song lured him to a large den, and he was sure nothing bad was in there. Silverwind entered the den and saw a female arctic fox who was as white as a dove's wing. He knew her name just by looking at her. Here. Right here. Whitewing.
Ch6
All of time is connected. And time has never broken. The time for a new beginning is, at last, here. The dawn of the White Tiger has ended. His reign forever gone. And with dawn, comes dusk. And with dusk, comes dawn. The dusk of the White Tiger's empire. The dawn of a free life. A new beginning.
As most dreams come crashing down with sadness, a family long ago, frightened by the machines and people, was broken apart the same way. The White Tiger's family. That, simmering and boiling over, was what turned him away. Turned him evil. Dreams.
Now, he roams the Antarctic, searching for food. And he had, just a few days ago, a nice meal. A meal that put him to sleep for days. An arctic fox family. His dinner. Same thing.
A song. The one thing that could wake him early was a song. A song like the song that was just sung. He is waking. The song, that beautiful song. The White Tiger must find that song, that flowing, giving and reliving song. A prowl. A long awaited prowl for that song. A prowl. A song. Different things.
Ch7
The arctic fox named Whitewing was surprised. An arctic fox besides her understood her song! She could tell by the longing look in his eyes. She didn't think her song was any good. But here. Right here. Was someone who liked her song. Her unborn kits wiggled. She knew this fox was good. She knew it.
Here was an arctic fox who was not grouchy like most others, but gentle and shy. He walked right up to her and touched her nose as a greeting. Here was a good fox, a gentle fox. Whitewing liked him. And he liked her. In the cold, unforgiving antarctic, an arctic fox fell in love. In love with that gentle fox. That shy fox.
Whitewing was in love. In love with the one called Silverwind. Such a nice name, such a nice arctic fox. Here. Right here. Silverwind.
Ch8
The frozen Antarctic desert is cold and windy. Take a step and your footprint will be covered in snow. Look up and you can barely see the sky, only puzzle pieces, blocked by storm clouds filled with snow. It is hidden, this place, and so are its inhabitants.
Watch out for the seals and walruses, hidden under the ice. There are mountains of snow and ice, hidden in blizzards. Beware the cold, the arctic foxes fierce in their training, the abandoned animals like the White Tiger. Beware.
Nothing scares the White Tiger. Nothing. Not even death. He waits in large snow drifts for something, anything, to come by. Nothing scares the White Tiger. Nothing.
The antarctic is dangerous. Do not step into that horrid place. Do not let it gobble you up. Do not. Stay away from the antarctic. Beware.
Ch9
The White Tiger is merciless. He cares nothing for the penguins and the foxes and arctic rabbits he kills. He wants the walruses. The walrus is tasty with all that blubber and fat. Delicious. He wanted a walrus. He needed a walrus.
He looked at the ice. The cold, unforgiving ice. Did he see what he thought he saw? A walrus! And the biggest one in the world. He had to have that walrus. Had to.
But do not go under the ice. Do not go into the walrus's realm. You will die if you do. Do not go where there is no air. You will die if you do. Do not go under the ice. You will freeze if you do. Do not.
Ch10
A long time ago, the walrus that the White Tiger wanted was alive. Young and wise, was he. He has lived a thousand years. Lived beneath the ice. Lived with the ice. The walrus can watch through the ice. Watch with the ice. See the arctic foxes surviving through generations. They were not there long. Humans performing an experiment left them here. Those humans. The White Tiger's biggest meal. Same thing. The walrus remembers. He remembers the raven and the seal and their never ending friendship. They are still friends today. Even in death. The walrus remembers.
Ch11
It takes a long time for a walrus to age. He scarcely grows old. But he is always growing, century by century, foot by foot. No one keeps track. No one knows. But the penguins knew to beware the walrus. The walrus is said to be possibly vegetarian. But for this walrus, there is never enough. He devours prey in a flash of snow. Beware the walrus. But for this walrus, he tells those who ask what they asked for. Not many ask. Not many can ask. Any who do not ask get eaten. If the ice can stay here for a million years, why can't a walrus? Only the ice knew all the walrus' secrets. But the ice can only see and remember. It cannot warn others, or do really anything. But it can listen. Listen, see, and remember. Everything ice needs. Everything ice can need. It watches and remembers the arctic fox, Silverwind, as he begins a journey that will give him courage when he had none. The ice remembers Silverwind. It remembers.
Ch12
Give us an arctic fox, a fox bred for survival. For the cold. For courage. That's what Silverwind was. Although he had no courage, he was a good listener and gentle. Whitewing knew that these were good traits for a father. Someone to watch her pups when they were born. To take care of them in place of their real father who disappeared. Here was a good arctic fox. Silverwind. A father.
Silverwind became good friends with Whitewing, and before they realized how much time had passed, Whitewing's pups arrived in the world. One was normal white, but would not budge, even when his brother slammed into him after tripping. His brother was an unusual chocolaty brown and very energetic. Two pups, two parents. Perfect. A perfect family. Silverwind. Whitewing. Pups. Here. Right here.
Ch13
In another part of the antarctic, the ice is giving way. Part of the ice, that great ice, is getting gradually thinner. So thin it could give way at any moment. All the penguins and ancient animals shiver knowing that the walrus could break through the ice and wreak havoc once again.
"The walrus," they say, "The walrus is coming!"
And the walrus also knows the ice is giving way, but it is not thin enough to emerge. He waits patiently. Waits for the feast that is soon to come.
Soonmytimewillcome, the walrus whispers. Soon!
Ch14
The walrus has been trapped for two thousand years. But he is much older than that. Much. Lamorsa. That is what some humans would call him. Spanish. He is older than that. French. He is older than that, too. He is much older than the barren ice. Much older than anything in the antarctic. As old as Pangaea, when all the continents were united. Old. The walrus, la morsa, is old.
As the walrus waits for the ice to break, another terror is prowling. The White Tiger. The White Tiger prowls the antarctic eating whatever may come across his path. A tyrant. That is what he is. One of the worst tyrants on the face of the earth. The White Tiger.
The ice is giving. The ice knows it is weakening, and knows about the White Tiger. Knows his horrible deeds. The ice will break. But it will be for a good cause.
Ch15
In the cold, deep, dark cave that was and is his lair, the White Tiger remembers what he did that day. Ate twenty-one penguins, one arctic fox, and fifty fish. He likes the silvery fish and golden fish, not so much the minnows and parrot fish. Arctic foxes are the best food in the arctic, but are hard to get. Penguins are sort of in between, although a little salty. Arctic foxes are one of the few animals in the antarctic that are not so salty.
Beware.
Ch16
The pups. Whitewing needed to name them. They should be good names, not just any random name, and they should fit their character. The pups need names.
The first pup would not budge. Silverwind thought about a name to suit him. Budge, that was what his name should be. His brother was always saying that. Budge, the name hung in his mouth for a moment. A pup named budge.
The other pup was chocolate colored. Fudge colored. Fudge energizes you, and that's exactly what he was. Energized.
Fudge rolled around in the snow, trying on his new name. Budge would not budge, but smiled instead. Budge and Fudge. Silverwind and Whitewing. A family.
Ch17
There are messages. Most messages would be sent in an envelope, others on the internet. But the best kind of messages are said. Ice can only say messages to the snow and water. And if you could hear at least one of the messages the ice said, it would be about the seal, the raven, and the walrus. How the seal was a relative of the walrus and lived with him, but left and broke the walrus's heart to help his friend the raven. Those sad days. They turned into raged days as the walrus got enraged about how his relative had betrayed him. And to the walrus, the raven was a thief. He stole his only company, his only friend.
The walrus remembers those days, those tragic days. The days that ruined his life. But he knows that there is a price. There was, is, and will be a price. A price.
Ch18
To Budge and Fudge, the den had always been their world, their nation. They ofter wondered what was outside the den, but a rule their parents had put down kept them in the den. That wonderful nation where Silverwind and Whitewing always gave them water and food. They were never hungry or thirsty, and they played until they were so tired they collapsed in a heap. When they awoke, they would eat, drink, play, and sleep again. That was the cycle of their lives.
Budge liked the way life was for them, but Fudge wanted to see what was outside. Why they were not allowed to leave. Silverwind was usually gone, getting food and water. Whitewing stayed with them. Both pups wondered where their father went, and Fudge sometimes tried to follow him, but Whitewing would always catch him and keep him inside.
Silverwind was thinking about letting the pups out to play in the snow, but Whitewing always said, "Not yet" and would go back to watching Budge and Fudge. A family. What a family: an orphan father, a pure white mother, and two pups.
Ch19
Ice gives cold. And cold brings preserving. The ice in the antarctic brings the most ancient cold, the cold that can preserve forever. The antarctic ice has preserved the walrus. The ice has preserved the evil and revenge in the walrus. Preserved his cold heart. But ice brings cold, and as the walrus waited to emerge to the surface once again, his heart grew colder. Ice preserving, plots forming, he waits and remembers, remembers the seal, his relative whom he loved and cared for, and the raven that took him away to find their true home.
Theirhomewashere, he thought, whydidn'ttheystay?
And that made him more angry and evil. The walrus was sad, an emotion he had never felt since the seal left with the raven. Being sad brings revenge, and revenge brings evil. The walrus, revenge coming, death waiting, remembers. Remembers what he did so long ago. And deep in his cold, solid prison, the walrus waits. Waits for revenge. Waits and remembers.
Ch20
The ice remembers the White Tiger. Remembers his bravery. It is very hard to remember because he had nearly none. The White Tiger only has enough courage to kill his prey. Scared and confused, he is all alone in the world. He does not know what to do. He is a coward filled with revenge. Revenge at the humans who had taken his parents and left him here. Here in the arctic, cold and unforgiving, all alone.
All the White Tiger can do is wait. Wait for the time he can take out his anger on those humans, the humans, expressionless and powerful, who left him alone in this world. He is waiting. Waiting to strike.
Thereisaprice, the walrus says in a voice that is almost a breath, Thereisalwaysaprice.
And the ice seems to reply back, Yes, thereisalwaysaprice. And the price is sometimes too high to pay. Too high to know. The price.
Ch21
Before a tiger becomes a tiger, he has to be a cub. The White Tiger was a cub when the humans took his parents and left him in the antarctic. All the cub could do was shiver and wait. Wait for his parents to return, but they never did. He got so hungry he ate a whole penguin. His thoughts turned dark, turned evil. His thoughts brought revenge, and revenge brought more dark thoughts. His mind had broken, broken into a hundred twisted pieces.
The White Tiger was young, as all other animals and creatures were at some time in their lives. The White Tiger had to catch that penguin. Catch it or die. The penguin slid to the edge of an icy cliff and almost jumped off. The White Tiger caught it before it could jump. He caught it before he, a mere cub, died. He ate the penguin, ate the warm meat.
In the cold of the antarctic, a cub's thoughts spawned revenge. That cub was the White Tiger, the evil, cold-hearted White Tiger.
Revenge, that cub thought, Revenge.
And under the ice, another broken mind thinks, Thereisalwaysaprice.
Ch22
There is nothing in the arctic that grows faster than pups. They have already grown out of their mother's milk. Silverwind must hunt for Budge and Fudge, hunt for arctic rabbits and hares on top of snowy mountains. An occasional treat of a small penguin might come across his path. But the pups are almost always hungry. A simple rabbit each does not satisfy their growing bellies.
SoonIwillhavetoteachthemtohunt. But Silverwind had no courage to do so. ButImustifwearetosurvive!
Silverwind and Whitewing both dreaded the day that Budge and Fudge will leave the safety of their den. Their den deep in the winding tunnels in a low mountain. The pups would be vulnerable to seals and walruses. But the White Tiger most of all. The pups could die the same way that Silverwind's father died, with their bodies thrown deep into the cold sea. Whitewing did not want that, and neither did Silverwind. They liked their home. Their home buried deep in the ice and snow. They wanted to keep a family together. Their family.
Ch23
Before arctic foxes are strong and fast, they have to be pups! For Budge to get scared, he has to be frightened, to be frightened he has to be attacked. To attack Budge, Fudge hid in the darkest corner of the darkest part of the dark den. To scare Budge, he hid and waited.
Quiet, so quiet. The excitement was almost too much to bear. Fudge waited for Budge to come by looking to play. He smelled Budge. He crouched low, to jump high, and pounced! Budge's hair sprang up. Then Budge sprang up. He came down and they wound up in a pile with Budge on top. Fudge tried to get up, to strike back, but couldn't for Budge wound not budge. Whitewing pulled them apart and Silverwind came back with food. Fudge sprang up, to get more food and to be first, and Budge beat him to the food.
Budge can be fast if he wants to. Fudge can't wait like Budge. For pups, life is perfect in the dark den, but that will soon change forever.
Ch24
The walrus hates humans. He hates the humans who tried to capture him like a common animal. He is not a common animal, he is too old and knowing. The walrus hates the humans who almost took his life to make candles and purses. He does not want to be separated from the place he had lived in his entire life. He does not.
The walrus remembers the day that the seal met him, remembers the day that seal said, "Father" and he looked down, surprised to see a seal with skin so white it looked silver. Son, he thought. And the seal and the walrus became close friends, so close it would hurt more than anything if they separated. But that was exactly what happened, and the walrus is still feeling that unbearable pain. His soul was still dying. With his soul, he too will die. Die of the terrible pain that infests him.
The ice knows. Knows that the walrus is dying. Soonwewillbefreeagain. It whispers in the wind. Soon!
Ch25
Panting, hopping and barking, the seal swam to the walrus. And the walrus swam to the seal, sighing, smiling and remembering. The walrus remembers when he met the seal, to freshen his thoughts. The walrus also remembered the raven who took his friend, to find a good home. Under the ice, the walrus sought revenge. And the ice, above the water, remembered the day the seal met the walrus and the walrus met the seal. The walrus, revenge growing, wanted the seal. Tears trembling, the walrus hated the raven. The black raven, young and knowing, had taken the son he loved as his only friend. The white seal, shining and playful, was taken away from him. The walrus, with a short temper, grew mad and tried to take back the seal. The raven, who knew what was right, took the seal away into warm waters.
Ch26
There are no maps of the hidden passages in the antarctic. But skilled hunters like the White Tiger know all the hidden places and caves. He knows the secret cave that leads to thin ice where a walrus waits for the ice to break. Only the White Tiger knows of this secret cave, the cave where the biggest walrus sits in hiding. The White Tiger wants that walrus, wants the ton of meat. In the day, the cave is blocked by snow. In the night, the cave is hidden in the shadows. The White Tiger found this cave years ago, while he was a small cub. He had collapsed in the snow that was blocking the entrance and tumbled into the cave and rested there for a while.
The walrus knows of the tiger that comes to look at him with a hungry glare. The walrus knows he wants him, wants his meat. But that tiger will not get him, the walrus will get that tiger first. The White Tiger will be the walrus' first meal after being freed. The White Tiger is food.
Ch27
Whitewing always watches the pups, always keeps them safe. Whitewing plays with them and keeps them in the cave. The cave that is dark and cold, and safe. She sings to them every night. Every night she sings a beautiful lullaby.
Hearmesing,
Hearmehere.
Iwillalwayssing,
Sonothing'stofear.
Nowlaydownandsleep,
ForIwillalwaysbe,
Alwaysrighthere.
And the pups would fall asleep. Just like that. Then Silverwind would come home and the two would feast over the penguin Silverwind brought. The pups had everything they needed: A father to hunt for them, a home, and a mother who watched and cared for them.
Ch28
Pups need to learn how to hunt. Silverwind and Whitewing realized this. Silverwind found an arctic rabbit and trapped it in their cave. Budge knew what to do, chase the rabbit. Budge the panther, Budge the tiger, Budge the predator. And Fudge knew what to do, chase Budge. The rabbit saw them and sprang out of the way. Fudge came crashing into Budge. The pups were hopeless. Hopeless for hunting. Silverwind caught the rabbit quickly and they shared a small meal together.
Ch29
There are tigers. The bright orange Bengal tigers, the ancient Caspian tigers and Javan tigers. There are Malayan tigers and Sumatran tigers, the yellow Indochinese tigers and the broad Amoy tigers, but the most fierce tigers are the white tigers. They are rare but very powerful. The white tigers have steel jaws. Trap jaws. Beware the powerful jaws of the white tiger. Beware.
The White Tiger knows all the kinds of tigers, for he has met them. He has seen many trapped tigers. But he is alone here in the antarctic. Alone. And it is all the humans fault. He will get revenge, for revenge has overpowered him. Alone in the antarctic and wrapped in revenge.
Ch30
Do not mess with the big animals that wander into the cave. That was a rule. The pups had seen how the big animals are dangerous. The animal had ripped into Silverwind, giving him a scar. But Silverwind had killed that animal and thrown it out into the snow. That is a good rule.
Another rule is not to leave the cave. The pups were told that they were only safe inside the cave. Rules bear enchantment, and must be repeated. The pups knew this rule.
The walrus knew this as well.
The seal did not.
Ch31
It's a fact that pups are hard to raise. Budge and Fudge are no different. Do not go out of the cave, you will be safe in the cave. That was a rule. But it was a rule that sometimes got forgotten. While Budge and Whitewing was resting, Fudge crept into the open. The wonderfully white open. Outside the cave, that was where he was. Fudge liked the open, the soft snowy open, and wondered why he wasn't allowed to be out here.
Pups are made of these things: fur, bones, and curiosity. And what shone most at the moment was curiosity. And curiosity took over and dulled his senses. He did not realize the dangerous animal sitting by the cave, did not take notice.
Fudge had to tell Budge, tell him how wonderful the open snow was. Wouldn't his brother come with him? Wouldn't he like the outside too? Fudge ran, ran, ran... Straight into the waiting jaws of the White Tiger!
Ch32
Whitewing felt a shock rip through her. She woke and looked around, Silverwind stirred, Budge twitched in his sleep, and Fudge was gone. Wrong was everywhere. She saw her pup get snatched by a white tiger, the White Tiger. No, no, no! She did what any mother would do, raced out of the cave and chased the tiger. The White Tiger grabbed her, too, and raced away. No, no, no! Whitewing could see nothing but snow. Fudge cried and she licked him on the head.
A new sound, different from the crying of Fudge and the paws of the White Tiger, which were slowing down. A sound distantly familiar. Water! They were at the edge of the ice, and most possibly, their lives.
Ch33
Whitewing knew that the White Tiger would eat them. He set them down and guarded them. Whitewing looked long and hard at her son's face. Looked at the face she loved. She said to him, "I should have known better than to keep such a low guard." And the White Tiger got ready to pounce.
It is said that sometimes someone who is going to die can see into the near future, and Whitewing did just that. She gasped. "Whatever you may do, go back and tell Silverwind. Tell him to protect you. And let him know that I love him. Tell him that..." But she could not finish. The White Tiger had struck.
Ch34
Fudge had promised, promised to return, promised to stay safe. And as soon as he did, his mother disappeared with a final choked word, "Escape." And he did. He ran and ran and ran, his paws pumping harder than ever before. His mother's last word rang in his head, "Escape." It went over and over, repeating itself in his head. His running had apparently surprised the White Tiger and he did not follow. Fudge could not keep back the tears, for his mother was dead. Eaten by an evil beast, the beast that he had promised to stay safe from. Sadness hung in the air, almost stopping time itself. Sadness. The dreaded and terrible sadness.
Ch35
As the White Tiger's jaws closed around her, Whitewing caught a glimpse of her pup, Fudge, running away for his life. Time seemed to freeze. She knew she should not have put such big responsibility on such a small pup. Although he is an arctic fox, he might die of cold. A silver bird hovered above her. A silver hummingbird was bringing her away. Taking her from the world she once knew. Whitewing felt a pang of regret as she saw the whole world around her, Fudge running in the wrong direction, Silverwind and Budge waiting for her and Fudge, and herself in the jaws of the White Tiger.
She could not bear to look at her own dead body. Nor the trouble she had cast her family into. She wished she could warn them about that trouble, the trouble that could be fatal. But she knew she could not go back, and the silver hummingbird said, "Come, it is time."
As she flew farther and farther from the world she once knew, she did not hear the crying of Fudge, or the White Tiger crunching her bones. Just the whispery wings of the silver hummingbird.
Ch36
The ice keeps the legends. The legends of faraway lands, of actual warmth. But the ice knows the one about the silver hummingbird. Some say the hummingbird can travel between the world of the dead and the world of the living. Such feats require great speeds beyond our seeing. Aren't hummingbirds fast and hard to see? Some call her an "intermediary" and that is a good term. Others call her a messenger, and that is the right term, too. Some call her Silver Bird, but that has nothing to do with her purpose but the way her wings glow and sparkle. But most don't even know of the hummingbird, and therefore don't need her.
The hummingbird has been looking for someone for a long time. Looking for someone to give the message to. The message of peace.
Ch37
The White Tiger was not the first tiger to live in the antarctic, nor will he be the last. In this barren wasteland of ice and snow, the Tribe had once lived. A tribe of tigers, white and orange and red, had lived peacefully. Helping each other and sharing caves and food, but there was hunting. The dark act of hunting and killing. The Tribe had to kill and eat to survive, but they were resourceful. They always left just enough to reproduce and keep alive. But, all in all, the Tribe was friendly, and the White Tiger is not.
What could a tired arctic fox pup see in a cold, harsh blizzard? All Fudge could see was a silver hummingbird, nothing else. Nothing more. And only a few feet under the ice, the walrus stirred.
"There is a price. There always must be a price." It whispered, "Always."
Ch38
Legs weak and raw from waiting, Silverwind collapsed. He was waiting for Fudge and Whitewing to come back, but they never did. He had waited there for what seemed like an eternity. Budge rushed to his side, whining and whimpering, and helped him try to stand. But Silverwind was too weak. He remained there, lying in the snow, mourning for his loss.
The ice has a word, evil. That word describes what a creature that kills for sport and just to wreak havoc is. Evil. That word hung on the wind, flowing in and out of the animals of the antarctic. All but the White Tiger, for his mind was blocked, sealed by a cold heart, his heart. When he ate the small female arctic fox, he had no mercy, he even thought it was fun! His cold heart had taken over, controlling him without a mind.
As Silverwind fell asleep on the snow outside the cave, he could not cry, but tears flowed steadily down his face. Budge licked the salty tears and lay by his side. Silverwind fell asleep quickly and the tears stopped falling. Budge would not budge from his fathers side. Never.
Ch39
As Silverwind slept, Budge wished that his mother and brother would come home, wished that once again he would have a family. As he watched his father's chest rise and fall painfully, he knew that he needed help. Why doesn't Whitewing come back? Why did she leave them alone? As the questions were repeated in his mind over and over, the answer became clear. Something must have happened. Where was his little brother? He needed to find out. Budge became more and more hungry as the night passed. He needed food. His father would be hungry as well. He would have to hunt for him and his father.
But not yet. But not until morning.
Ch40
Water is not the only element that offers up the biggest beasts that could live. There are also the great beasts of the air. They are not so large, but powerful and majestic. The walrus, who swam the ancient seas, should have known this. If he had understood the whispery language of the ice, the cold and knowing ice, they would have shared the story.
Here, it would say, in the long ago land, was a young raven, his feathers the darkest of any bird under the moon, his eyes blue with spots of red. See him catch the morning air, the cold, whispery currents that could carry him away, see him rest in the tall pines and chestnuts in the forest where he was. This great expanse of ice was knew to him, for he had traveled far, far away from his forest home. Here he was, here to make a home in the antarctic.
Almost every night the raven listened to the songs of the Tribe, listened to the rhythmic howls. He stretches out his wings and cries "Screee!" But one night is altered, changed, and he doesn't hear the wild Tribe that night, instead he hears something else, a strange barking. Like the barking of dogs he once knew, but different. He listened. There it was again. He knew at once that the barks had the ringing of not belonging. Whatever was making the barking did not belong here and needed help, and the raven decided to help it. Night after night he listened to the song, trying to find the source of the barking.
The walrus should have known about the raven. Should have known about him.
Ch41
While Fudge rested in a small cave, he listened. Listened for his mom. Listened for Silverwind. What he heard was: a trickle of icy water in the back of the cave, the wind of the blizzard outside, and nothing more. No mother, no father. Just water and wind. All there was left to do was sleep. And sleep was what Fudge did.
While in sleep, time can change. It either goes faster or slower. Fudge slept with time so slow it was almost frozen. His whole life flew by in his mind, the good and the bad, the boring and the exciting. He went through a rapid change, knowing more about what he has done, knowing that it was him who had caused the death of his mother, him who has done this. He would not forget what he had done. Never.
Ch42
The raven, wrapping its wings to keep warm, finally became drawn to the sound, pulled by the strangeness and longing. Many might have heard wind or water, but the raven knew what he heard. He flew off over the ice and water. He flew down onto the top of the walrus' cave and waited. Waited and listened. On and off, on and off went the barking.
The wind seemed to whisper, Flyaway, flyawayandbewarethedanger! But the raven did not listen. Wings fluttering, wind whipping, he flew down into the cave to find the creature that was making that interesting noise. The raven, a scavenger, knew how to get through the narrow cave. He relaxed at the entrance to the main cavern and waited once more. Waiting.
Ch43
With his ancient father, the seal learned the mysteries of the antarctic. The walrus taught him where to catch the best fish and the juiciest penguins. He taught him the secret caves covered in snow and the deep hiding holes underwater. No one knew the antarctic better than the walrus, no one. And no one told stories like the walrus, either. He told the seal stories of the green forests with the warm rivers and streams, of the hot deserts with scarce streams, and of the icy mountains with cold lakes.
No son was more beloved to the walrus, they were inseparable. Where the seal went, the walrus was sure to follow. And where the walrus went, the seal was always near. But as the seal grew older, he realized that he did not belong there in the cold antarctic. He belonged in warm waters. Something just told him to leave, but he did not know how.
Ch44
We are all connected deep inside. Connected with a strong, unbreakable string. The string of life. The seal, while he felt the blood of his powerful father who he loved mightily, when he looked up at the raven, that black and blue-eyed raven, he felt the blood of parrots and finches and crows and ravens. He felt the sensation of flying in warm currents and soaking in warm seas. It was this sensation that made him slip out of the cave where the walrus slept and onto the ledge where the raven waited.
The moment their eyes met, a great understanding passed between them. They knew they needed to travel to a warmer climate together. They knew this was their destiny. They understood what to do. This knowing overcame the seal's old love for the walrus. The raven understood what was right, and that understanding coursed through their veins.
The ice recognized the feeling, the feeling of knowing. And the ice did what it could to keep the feeling close. The ice lulled the walrus into a deeper sleep with their whispery magic. The feeling was preserved.
Ch45
For a pup who has lost his mother, he needs to recover. Fudge remembered the White Tiger with his snapping jaws and huge body. Here, by the edge of the tear-filled sea, a pup rested and grieved for his lost mother.
"Where is my mother?" he cried to no one with his last conscious breath as he slipped into a deep sleep, the sleep of sorrow, the deeper sleep of loss. Missing. Missing can happen to all of us, and missing can take us away. Fudge's mother was missing, and the walrus's son was missing. In his dreams his mother came back to him for a mere moment.
"Why did you leave me" she seemed to ask. "Where are you?"
"I didn't leave you, you left me!" Fudge said with both sorrow and anger.
"You must go back, go back to your family and tell them what happened. Go, and protect your family," And with that she faded away, leaving the feeling of sadness behind.
Missing is everywhere, and even as he slept, Fudge's mind was clouded with missing. Missing was sucking him away, taking him to where his mother now lay in another world. Fudge was almost gone, almost dead with his mother.
But he came back. He resisted, and came back. "Mother!" he cried. Missing was still there.
Ch46
The ice, dry and cold, knows about sorrow. Sorrow is something that sifts in the mind, something that bubbles and grows, something that can eat away at you like missing. The ice had sorrow for the poor, gentle animals that died out, never to be seen again. The mammoth was the gentlest of all, and sorrow filled the antarctic as those mammoths died away. Sorrow was in the mind of the walrus as he found that the seal was gone. Sorrow and anger replaced all that the walrus was. This sorrow drove all the happiness and love out of him and anger kept the only the evil thoughts like revenge. All the walrus was, all the walrus is, is sorrow. Sorrow brought anger, and anger brought revenge. And as the sorrow grew, the anger did too. This anger drove him to evil, drove him to destruction. He destroyed the ice and ate all the arctic hares. He thrashed about in his sorrow and anger. Thoughts turned real, feelings turned dark. Dark with evil and revenge and hopelessness. So dark it twisted him, twisted his thoughts and his actions. He only did evil, and he could not stay still. All that darkness ensured that there was no hope for the walrus's love, no hope for the goodness was.
Like the White Tiger, so fierce and strong, revenge overpowered the walrus right to wrong. The walrus was no longer gentle and careful, and he began to plot how to get his son the seal back in his grasp. Anger replaced the happiness, and sorrow replaced everything else. There was no hope for the walrus now. None. There was only sorrow and anger and revenge and destruction.
Ch47
Fudge knew. He knew that he should have protected his mother. "Why didn't I save her?" he thought in despair, "It should have been me in those jaws of death!" He could not sleep for fear that the White Tiger would come back to find him, and both him and his mother would be lost. Fudge wished he could be back home in his cosy den sleeping, this whole event never existing. "It was my fault! My curiosity caused this!" he thought with great pain. His stomach turned icy cold as he thought, "I let this happen. I killed my own mother." Sorrow overcame him and he whimpered and wept. His crying eventually lulled him to sleep.
Meanwhile, the walrus brews in his cold cave, frozen in ice. "A price. There is always a price!" he thought with great remorse, "Always!"
Ch48
Budge was the witness. He saw his brother creep into the light and out if the cave. He saw how his brother loved it out there. He almost went out with him, but as he got up, he saw his mother running up and trying to drag him away. The White Tiger snatched them both up, and legend repeated itself. Legends of fierce, scary beasts stealing away the poor animals of the antarctic.
He was there to witness his father howling and crying for his mother. He saw how desperate his father was, and he saw how horrible the situation was. He lived to his name and did not budge from his father's side until he wearily walked into the cave. His mother and brother were gone, and that was a fact. He had to face it. There was no other way to survive.
Ch49
Memory is a troublesome thing. It stays with you forever, but you remember the bad things over the good things. Fudge was dealing with memory at that moment. He was far from home and he only remembered the things that had happened recently, and all were bad. His belly rumbled like a tremor breaking the earth. He had not eaten for days. This was too much for him, he would have to find something to eat. But he did not know how to hunt. The rabbits and animals that his father had brought were for prey, weren't they? Budge had known they were for hunting. Budge knew how to hunt, he did not. How would he survive here? He turned over, trying to block out the hunger with sleep. He would think about it in the morning.
Ch50
In the memory of the ice, will you find the meeting of the seal and the raven a thousand years ago? Yes. You will find how the two traveled away for so long, traveling to the north. They knew by instinct the way to go. They flew and swam for days on end. They traveled 'till they were too weak to carry on. They rested. They found a nice island and thought they might stay. They knew they should keep moving, but they stayed to rest for a while.
Ask the ice and it will tell you about homes. Ask the small glacier how it offered up a small cave for a starving pup. It will tell you how it broke away, a few feet from the water, and how it offered up a floating home for an unfortunate pup.