Chapter 13

I am so sorry for not updating. This time of year is so stressful for me and a lot of teenagers my age and above. But, now that it is half term, I'll be able to relax just for a little while. By relaxing, I mean that I'll be posting fanfics!

I was feeling bad about the whole lack of updating, but I couldn't do anything about it. It's that time of year where I'm starting to take my education seriously. Not that I didn't in the first place, I mean I'm trying to up my grades further than they are now. And, if you think this year/time of year was bad, in a few years' time it will be even worse. Oh, and just a little warning about the Summer Holidays too (still 2 months or something I know). I won't be posting for the first few weeks as I will be on Holiday, but I doubt you will be keeping an eye on any progress anyway, since I hope you'll be too busy with your own holiday yourself.

Set 1 day after previous chapter…

Brigitta's POV

The heat from the fire seemed to be sucked into the bitter air before ever reaching our dirty and frozen fingers. The villagers around us added more wood and cautiously poked it with long pieces of blackened metal. Unsure about the new offering, the fire blinked a few times, belching out dozens of curious little sparks, before allowing its orange tails to brush and devour the wood like a hungry puppy.

All the villagers, including the Gedney's, were dressed in milk white clothes, although so thick that you would've thought it was a towel. They were even kind enough to gift us with our own, which was nice, as a change of clothes was in desperate need. I sat between Artur and Friedrich, who had his arm placed firmly around me, like a protective brother would do. Although, I think he meant it as a kind gesture.

"This is a very big night for the entire village, and it only happens once a year," Artur explained, his voice hushed down so he would not interrupt one of the villagers telling a story.

"Why?" I asked, looking up at the dazzling, night sky.

"Well, you see, there is a myth that although we know is not true, we still like to celebrate it. Basically, in the beginning of time, before there were even humans, a young wolf was abandoned by his family for being sick and scrawny," Artur began.

"A flock of sheep, foreign to the mountains, came across this little wolf and mistook him for one of their own, as he was snow white, just like them. One mother agreed to look after him and care for him as if he were her own,"

"The wolf grew, and the sheep, all except the mother, began to fear his mighty jaws and sharp claws. All his friends stayed away from him, and he became an outsider. However, his biological brother stumbled across the herd and began hunting them, chasing them right towards a cliff. The wolf, still quite small and scrawny for his age, cowered behind a rock, watching his brother as he grew closer, his jaws drooling and his eyes flashing furiously. It wasn't until his brother made a go at his mother did he grow angry, howling so loudly that his brother fled, tail between his legs," Artur laughed.

"Now, every year, once a year, the wolf will howl from the tallest mountain, protecting all our herds for the rest of this year," he finished.

"How ridiculous yet entertaining," Friedrich chuckled, and I rested my head on his shoulder.

"I know, but it keeps the children happy. One of us always fakes a howl, as there are no longer any wolves in Austria… but they believe it," he agreed.

I tried to keep my eyes open, I really did. But every now and again I fell out of consciousness, then back in. I was too comfortable here anywhere, it was irresistible not to at close my eyes. In the blackness of my lids, I can see that breath-taking view Artur had shown me, and us sitting side by side. I watched them, which felt strange, as if I wasn't myself anymore. I didn't mind…

Bang!