II

Adera squinted to see farther into the blizzard, but an impenetrable wall of white obscured everything not within a few yards. Any trail that she or her father might have left had been long since blown away by the wind, so scent was useless to her.

She thought she heard someone calling her name as she ventured into the storm, but the voice sounded unfamiliar. I must be hearing things, she thought with a sigh. Lowering her head, however, she decided to press on. As she had determined before, they would both make it out alive.

It was only a few seconds before she noticed the faint outline of something lying on the ground. As she stepped closer, she detected a familiar scent: it was her father. "Dad!" she called. "Dad!"

There was no response. Adera stepped closer once again, placing her nose to her father's form as if to be absolutely sure that it was him. This is him, she thought, but why isn't he answering?

A possibility came to her then, but she brushed it off as impossible. How could he—her father—be...? She nuzzled into his shoulder, trying to shake him awake, but he did not stir. The idea she had had became ever more possible in her mind, and she could feel tears welling up in her eyes as a result. "Dad…no… Please be alive. Please…?"

She rested her chin on his shoulder, closing her eyes and letting the tears flow. "Please," she whispered. "Please be okay."

She opened her eyes then and gazed into those of her father. But instead of the spark that had always filled them, his eyes were empty—only pale, lifeless disks. She knew then that there was no reviving him. She knew then that she was alone in the world.

At that moment, any desire she had had to keep going drained from her body in an instant. She had no purpose now, no reason to keep going. Her father was all that mattered to her, and now he was gone.

Tears streaming from her eyes, Adera stood and lifted her head to the sky, letting her emotions out in one long, sorrowful howl.

Only then did she become aware again of the blizzard around her. The cold suddenly chilled her to the bone, and she stumbled backward as the wind buffeted against her. It changed direction then, and Adera collapsed to the frozen ground. At first, she struggled to stand again, but then she remembered that her father was dead. Why even worry about it? I don't have a reason to keep going.

She began to feel a burning sensation inside her chest. She coughed, and a few drops of blood spattered out into the snow, only to be blown away almost immediately. She knew that she would pass out any second, and that surely spelled her death.

Not that it matters, she thought with a sigh. She laid her head on the icy ground and closed her eyes for what would be the final time.

"Adera."

The young wolf jumped, startled by the sudden unfamiliar voice. "D-Dad?" she asked, panting.

"No," the voice said. "Turn and face me."

Adera felt a sudden compulsion to obey whomever the voice belonged to. She opened her eyes and turned her neck as far as it would comfortably go and was astonished to see the figure of a white wolf standing a few feet away. "Who—who are you?" she asked.

"I am the Wolf Spirit," the wolf said. "Come, join me."

Adera began to feel lightheaded as her mind clouded within a fraction of a second. Her vision failed for a moment, and when it returned, she saw her own body lying on the ground. She became aware that the blizzard had stopped and that she, too, was now a spirit—some kind of ghost. What's happening? she thought, beginning to panic.

Then Adera realized that she was no longer breathing though she still seemed to be fully conscious. "What's happening?" she repeated, this time aloud.

The wolf was slow to respond. "My time as a spirit is nearly over," it began. "I have chosen you to replace me."

"But—" the she-wolf began. "I don't know how to do anything. I can barely fend for myself."

"You will learn. It is your destiny." Its voice had gradually become fainter and fainter, and now it was little more than a whisper. "You are Aniu now, no longer Adera," it continued, now barely audible.

Without warning, a shadow came out of nowhere and latched itself onto the spirit. The wolf screamed in agony, collapsing and writhing in the snow as it tried to free itself from the shadow's grasp. After several seconds, the shadow formed the vague impression of a dark-furred wolf, and a pair of glowing red eyes became visible somewhere inside.

The newly-renamed Aniu watched in horror as the dark wolf bit and clawed at the spirit's face and body, leaving bloody gashes in the wake of its teeth and claws.

"A—Aniu…." the spirit whispered, a pained tone in its voice. "Help—help me…."

The she-wolf strained to move toward the spirit, but her state of suspended animation restrained her from any motion. She was forced to watch in growing horror as the shadow completely engulfed the spirit and then dissipated completely, leaving behind only a bloody circle of snow.

No…she thought. I have to do something. She glanced over her shoulder to look for help, but none was there. She discovered, however, that her fur had changed from gray to a pure white color.

Gravity suddenly took over once more, and Aniu stumbled to the snowy ground. "That spirit really meant it," she whispered to herself in awe.

But something about the transformation unnerved her. She felt now as if something in the distance was watching—no, stalking her. Pricking her ears forward, she glanced over her shoulder, but nothing was there.

She was startled by a snarl behind her, and she turned just in time to see the shadowy figure reappear and throw itself toward her.

Her bracing for the impact did nothing to lessen the brutal attack. At once, the figure latched itself onto Aniu's head, pressing its razor-sharp teeth into her skull. She felt the blood trickle down her forehead and jerked sharply to the side in a futile effort to shake off the figure.

The beast suddenly released Aniu's head, but her relief was short-lived. It immediately tackled her to the snow, tearing into her chest and shoulders.

Aniu struggled to breathe under the surprisingly heavy weight of the form on her chest. It was almost as if she could feel it rapidly sucking the life from her body. Even so, in her panicked state, she began to hyperventilate, and her mind and vision clouded. Everything was black or white; it was impossible to tell up from down in that blurred world. Aniu writhed on the ground, trying to think of a way out of her predicament.

She gathered the courage to tuck her head inward and snap at what she thought to be a throat, but her efforts were only rewarded with a large wound under her eye. Furious, she pulled away from the form and stood defiantly a few feet away. As the figure began to move toward her once more, she narrowed her eyes, pinning her ears back and throwing herself at the shadow. Maybe this is my purpose in life, she thought, to defeat this thing.

The wolf bit and clawed at any substance she could find within the darkness without regard to life or pain or protection. She was numb with rage—numb to pain, emotion, surroundings.

And yet the attack continued. Aniu finally ran out of stamina and collapsed to the snow. The shadow, she knew, was invincible—there was no way to defeat it. She laid her head in the wet snow, becoming aware for the first time of the blood that seeped from her body.

Suddenly one last revelation came to her. Using her last reserves of energy, she simply willed the shadow to leave. To her astonishment, it shriveled up into a tiny ball of mist that then floated away in the breeze.

With the disappearance of the shadow came a kind of relieving wave of energy. While the wounds on her face and body filled her with unbridled agony, at least she could take a moment to think and reflect on the last few minutes of her life. Now that the creature was gone, she had served her purpose. It was time for her to die.

A single tear leaked from the eye of the shredded lupine that lay in the snow. Her fur, white only minutes before, was now stained a dark red. At first, she had found her purpose, but that purpose had been fulfilled. Her failing vision deteriorated further, to the point where everything was a gray blur. But soon it all faded to a dark, pressing, impenetrable blackness. And she lay there, unmoving, her blood staining the snow a deep crimson. But her chest still slowly rose and fell with the breath of life.

Unbeknownst to Aniu, the wind began to pick up again. Snow began to fall once more, soon covering the wolf's body in a blanket of white.