Sub-Zero
Cold.
Bitter, stinging, cold. I lay in the snow, the storm lashes at my exposed face like a whip, drawing blood to the surface, tanning my skin deep red. There's a sharp pain in my leg. Feels broken. Staggering up, I fall hopelessly back. How long have I lain here? Minutes? Hours? It feels as if my blood itself is freezing. My breath catches in my throat. Am I... going to die here? They said I was too young. I should never have... It's so cold. Cold. Cold. Sub-Zero. Burning into me. I've never been so... ha, maybe I have. Just once before. Back then.
I remember the cold. Like this, it was so, so cold.
So, so cold.
I leant against the wall for comfort only to be rewarded with icy brick, pulling my thin blanket around me tighter. It must have been sub-zero: coldest winter ever. Homeless. I reached out a dirty hand to see how much money is in my little wooden bowl.
None.
With the little energy I had remaining, I slapped my hands together, getting the blood flowing properly. Pins and needles. The next thing I remembered was the footsteps, as my head lolled sleepily on my shoulder. I knew falling asleep meant certain death. Not like anyone would've missed me. The footsteps stopped. I didn't look up. No energy. My eyes closed. I felt something big and furry brush against me. A hand on my shoulder. Voices. Then... nothing.
When I came to I was warm. Coughing, I looked around me; I was in a small room, with very little furnishing and I lay in one of the three hammocks. Sitting up, every muscle in my body screamed out in pain and protest. It was a while before I managed to stand and stagger to the door. Passing a mirror; I noted how thin and pale I was, my blond hair tangled, dark rings had blossomed under my startling blue eyes. I rubbed tiredly at them, opened the door and stepped into the snow.
A distant snarl. I look up. Dogs? Five of them. Big, hairy dogs. No, not dogs. They looked more like...
Wolves?
Wolves!
Five, big, hungry-looking wolves, their heads swung towards me, sniffing the air. The biggest, a jet black creature with terrifyingly-sharp fangs, growled and padded forward. I recall my whole body screaming at me to run, but I was paralysed with fear. It was getting closer. Can wolves smell fear? I could see the steamy puff of its breath and smell the pungent, damp odour of its last fleshy meal, its growl echoing in my ears like the rumbling of thunder.
Then, from the back, a large white wolf leapt forward. I squeezed my eyes tightly closed. This is it, I remember thinking I'm going to die. A minute passed... maybe two... three. I chanced a peek from one eye; quite sure I was supposed to be dead by now. The white wolf was stood in front of me, facing the others, growling.
"Whoa! Whoa there! Hoi! Blackburn! Better listen to Ayesha on this one! The lad's not a danger. He's just the kid I picked up. Down!"
A sallow-faced man, with cropped greying hair stood before me. He had a striking scar that extended from brow to chin, and dark piercing eyes. I tried a wobbly smile on him, he glared back at me. The wolves backed down.
"Are these your... wolves?" the voice I found was cracked and dry. Before he could answer, two more men arrived, their boots crunching the snow beneath them. The first was round faced and merry-looking, with gingery hair, a wide smile and an even wider girth. The second was tall and lanky; a battered ranger's hat perched on his head. All three were in thermal clothing.
"This's Ayesha," the tubby man told me, introducing the wolves; starting with the white female by my side. "Then, Blackburn," he pointed to the big, black, alpha-male, "Teresa, Colon and Asphodel. I'm Tim" he shook my hand "this 'ere is Sam" the man in the hat tipped it towards me in acknowledgement. "And this... is Larsen; he's the one who picked you up in the market." He proceeded to inform me that they were the Mountain Snow Patrol. I'd been "out of it" for weeks. "What's your name then?" Tim asked. I stared at him.
"Me? I... Naruto. Uzumaki Naruto"
"Naruto? Welcome to High-Lodge then Naruto m' boy!" boomed Tim, slapping my back with a hand like a dinner plate.
And that's how I came to live at High-Lodge, with the Snow Patrol - a three man unit, who drive sleds with the wolves. I was to ride with them, going out on patrol many times; I learnt how to ride my own sled with Ayesha pulling.
We were out on reconnaissance, just Ayesha and me. They said I was too young to go out alone at first, but Larsen decided I was to be relied upon. It was a great responsibly. I was happy skidding through the snow until...
CRASH.
The next thing I knew was the cold.
Bitter, stinging, cold. I lay in the snow, the storm lashes at my exposed face like a whip, drawing blood to the surface, tanning my skin deep red. There's a sharp pain in my leg. Feels broken. Staggering to up, I fall hopelessly back. How long have I lain here? Minutes? Hours? It feels as if my blood itself is freezing. My breath catches in my throat. Am I... going to die here? They said I was too young. I should never have... It's so cold. Cold. Cold. Sub-Zero. Burning into me. I've never been so... ha, maybe I have. Just once before. Back then.
"Naruto?"
A voice. I'm sure there's a voice. Someone's shaking my shoulder. It hurts. It hurts so much. Just make it stop. Make it stop.
"Naruto!"
Strong warm arms carrying me. Then blackness.
Nothing but blackness.
When I woke I was warm. Safe. Inside the lodge.
Larsen had fallen asleep in the chair by my side, and the smell of bacon cooking wafted through the door into the kitchen. I was in a hammock, my leg in a plaster cast and bandages on my torso and round my head. I touched the cast warily, feeling the skin itching underneath. Tim stumbled in, a grin on his face, pointed to Larsen and winked. I smiled. Time handed me a BLT and wandered out again.
And suddenly, for the first time in my life.
I felt loved.
