Despite the innate coldness that permeated Elsa's existence, her insides burned. She forced her face to remain neutral. Chances were though, that Mother noticed.
"You are displeased," Mother noted, her rumbling voice gravel no matter what her tone was. Still, it soothed Elsa's nerves that Mother cared.
Elsa knew this was a gift, a sign of Mother's trust. A sign that she wasn't going to be a pup forever. But the past held her tight in its talons. "I am honored, really, I am." Mother's gray fur brushed against her cheek. Elsa reached over and wrapped an arm around her snout, drawing her in. She knew the issue. Mother and Marrow and Runvir all knew it.
"All you need to do is call my name, my spritling, and I will be there."
Thoughts of kings and queens and sisters teased her. Mother would be there. Her brothers would stand by her side if she needed them.
This was an honor. Mother trusted her control, trusted her to find the wayward spirit and help. All she had to do was avoid the human settlement there.
A howl pierced the air. Marrow. He and Runvir would return with their meal soon.
"Of course I'll go," Elsa said. It would be fine. She'd be fine. She would avoid the humans, complete her task, and then return to their mountain.
One of Mother's ears twitched. "If you don't feel ready, you do not need to go."
Elsa knew the truth behind this quest. Either of her brothers or a lesser spirit could have gone. No, as much as Elsa was a wolf, Mother reminded her not to forget she was human.
Elsa's free hand burrowed into her own pelt, a gift made of Mother's own fur not long after she'd declared Elsa her pup.
She may not have been worthy of being a human, but she'd prove herself worthy of the Fenrir.
Her brothers bounded toward them. Marrow and Runvir each held an elk between their massive jaws. Marrow's fur was a dusty gray, a little lighter than Mother's. Runvir was white with a gray ear.
Elsa was so small and frail in comparison. But while she had no claws, she loved using her ice to make her own. Even with that, she was a terrible hunter, relying on them to provide food. Relying on them to chew the raw meat for her. Because of course the Gods had, along with giving her ice magic, denied her the skill to make fire the natural way. And no fire spirits lived on their mountain.
Marrow's kill dropped into the snow. "Good day, sister?" he asked with a yip.
Smiling, Elsa skated over the snow and placed a kiss on his cold nose. "It was." She took a breath. "I will be journeying come sunrise." She hoped her words weren't thick with the dread she felt.
Runvir licked her cheek. "Congrats to you."
"Will one of you travel with your sister. It will be a long trek for her," Mother said.
Her brothers barked and nipped at each other, each declaring themself the one she'd ride.
Watching them made that lovely little warmth inside her grow. They did not hide their eagerness or joy.
Sometimes, they reminded Elsa of Anna. Far too often.
She'd quash those feelings down into the coldest pits of her heart. Elsa had happier things to focus on.
That night, she claimed her spot between her brothers and let their breathing lull her to sleep.
The wind screeched in her ears. She had to keep moving. Somewhere, there would be food to fill at least a little of her belly. She'd long since run out of liquid tears. Whether from the storm or the fact that she'd chilled so much her skin had blued, they froze instantly.
Time held no meaning. Elsa didn't couldn't pinpoint when that had happened. Days? Weeks? There had been Arendelle, Anna, The Accident, and then the knife and the woods.
Her fingers traced the scar over her heart. It hadn't been the last wound gifted to her by humans. Her eyes burned but she wouldn't cry. What she needed was to get as far from people and their crossbows as possible.
The cold may not have bothered Elsa, but she craved warmth. Only she didn't deserve it. She only had to think of Anna, lying still on the floor as the ice ate away at her body.
"What have you done?" her father's voice hissed.
She'd killed her sister. Why else would father have locked her up for hours, only to return with an empty face and to drag her into the woods?
Then came the hunger and the villages with people who looked at her-who must have known what she'd done-and came after her with brooms, pitchforks, and crossbows. There would be no food-even from the garbage-to be found from them.
Elsa had seen her reflection. Her humanness had blurred, revealing the monster to all.
But she lived. And when the wolves found her, she lived.
And then came Mother, so large and magnificent that she fully expected death from those teeth.
"Hello, little spritling," her inhuman voice said, almost gentle but not quite.
And with that, Elsa's human life ended. She belonged with the Fenrir now.
Elsa woke with the sun. She secured her pelt, climbed onto Marrow's back, and descended the mountain toward the Northuldra.