Chapter 4

That night I dreamed.

Of a storm of snow, hammering away at me from all sides. The pale moon just barely allowing even my superior eyes to make out the shapes around me. Shadows moving to surround me. Herding me to my final resting place. I don't know how I knew it, but I was certain that they wanted me dead.

Thick snow crunched under my paws as I raved as fast as I could away from their mocking and leering eyes.

Bright blue, like the summer sky. And at the same time, inexplicably the opposite of it. It caused a chill to run right through me, like the sharp Northern winds through fur.

I was getting tired, my legs began to ache and my spine stiffened uncomfortably. As though I aged decades in mere moments.

I had to slow down, I had to. I needed to rest.

I couldn't slow down, I just couldn't. They'd catch me if I did.

The laughter grew louder as my faltering steps slowed to a crawl. The storm beat down on me harder, the frozen chunks of water almost slicing me like swords. The winds grew heavier, the snow I drudged through deeper, and hope felt as distant as the spring breeze I took for granted. Soon enough my tired body gave all there was to give and I collapsed on the field of snow.

The smell of death filled my nostrils long before I heard the crunching of snow, the hideous laughter. Before I felt the gaze of alien beings on my battered form. Frost came with every one of their exhales that I could make out. Their steps turned hard packed snow to brittle ice. It bloomed from their feet in intricate patterns, perversely resembling flowers. Ones that I had not seen in ages.

In their hands were weapons. Swords and spears, made in a paradoxical blend of the primitive and medieval styles. Their slender forms were armored in a material so white that it stung the eyes.

They were still a ways away from me, taking a leisurely stroll towards their prey.

Prey.

Prey.

I was no one's damn prey.

I forced my tired legs to lift my large body up once again. I was heavier now and much larger than before. At least twice the size of the thing. My fiery red gaze firmly meeting those of the devils before me. I let our a vicious snarl, the sound leaving my throat a promise of torn flesh and shredded skin. But I held no delusion of my victory.

I was going to die here. Of that there was no doubt. And I wad going to take down as many of them as I could while I still stood. I didnt know why I was so committed, I could try running again.

But no, I had a reason for fighting to the last. I wasn't cornered, so why? What was keeping ne here?

I then heard howling close by. Lots of howling. The noise caused the devils to stop a fair distance away from me, keeping their weapons at the ready.

And as I turned my head to fast approaching group I caught the unmistakable whiff of family. How does family have a smell? Before I could think very clearly of that the pack reached me, headed by a large black direwolf with cold grey eyes. Behind him another dozen smaller and younger direwolves followed my partners lead. They came and stood beside me and growled and snarled at the frozen beings that chased me.

With narrowed gazes the things took aim with their spears. But before any could be thrown massive stone walls sprung up from beneath the snow. Tall and thick, they enveloped the pack protectively. And pleasantly hot water came rushing from beneath us, warming my aching body.

My partner then turned to me, concern somehow clear in his eyes. And I came crashing down in the shallows of the lovely hotsprings. Only then did I notice my normally clear black fur turned a stark white. Along with the far more pronounced stench of death still lingering from the dead things.

No not from them, from me.

The pack surrounded me, trying to bring what comfort and help they could. Cuddling up to my aching bones and rotting flesh. My partner raised a paw and placed it between my large ears. A lifetime of companionship shone in his eyes. His greying snout stretched into what I understood to be a sad smile.

And I felt content, knowing what I left behind. What I lived through, the family I found and the satisfying life that I've lived.

I closed my eyes as the waters turned to the hard stone of the crypts. Knowing that even in death I would be beside my lifelong friend before long.

The stench of death never left my nostrils.

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I awoke to the sound of twigs breaking and death and old blood heavy in the air. The stink reached through the forest like a fine mist, covering in a think layer. The smell of a killer. A large one. The fire had died down to cinders and ash, the firewood having been used up throughout the night.

The teens have given up any sense of propriety in their sleep, cuddling up close together beneath the furs and firmly against my side. They were blissfully unaware of the almost certain danger that we were in. The bitterly cold winds carried the scent of danger like an ocean wave. Drowning us in promises of pain.

I raised my head and took a careful sniff.

Closer than when I woke up.

Did it smell my bloody shoulder? Was it just a coincidence? It reeked of aged blood. It must have eaten recently. Was it not enough?

Then I remembered where the rabbits I hunted were. Exactly the direction I smelled the beast from. A few hares could hardly sate the hunger of this thing. Probably a bear then. At best only one, at worst a family.

But no, I could probably tell the difference between one or more bears.

Okay, stay calm. One bear. Easy.

I'm pretty large and Stark has a sword.

The bear is stronger, larger, thicker, and has better claws and teeth. And is probably healthier than me.

Sniff*

Getting closer still. Faster too.

I let out a low bark, causing the two cuddling teens to startle themselves awake.

"Ah!"

"What in the…" Stark began to say.

I started growling, the noise rumbling like thunder in my throat. My gaze firmly fixed in the direction of the beast.

To both of their credit they understood that a dog staring into the distance and growling meant that shit was about to hit the proverbial fan.

Stark grabbed his longsword and drew it in a practiced motion. The girl surprisingly drew out a knife from gods know where. I too stood up and kept my teeth bared, my continued warnings unheeded by the beast.

It was getting very close now, even my companions could hear the breaking sticks and fallen branches now. I didn't fancy our chances here, but it was do or die now. And I would not allow either of mine to die!