The Snow Leopard

When I woke up the next morning, Raven’s side of the bed was empty. The bedding was rumpled, and her cloak had vanished from where it had been the night before.

For a moment, I just lay there, staring at the place where she had been when we had gone to sleep. An ache briefly entered my chest, thinking she might have decided to return to Echo’s after all.

She’d told me she wanted to stay.

That should have been enough to stop me from worrying.

Apparently, it wasn’t.

I turned my head as Shade made a small sound in his sleep. He was still tucked beneath the furs in his bed, one hand cradling Bunny against him while the little wooden ram stood near his bedding, exactly as he had left it last night.

I let out a breath, pushing down my worry as I pushed myself upright and pulled the pelt off of myself.

The fire had burned low during the night, reducing it to little more than a few glowing coals. I fed it some kindling and waited until the flames caught before I added a log and reached for the cooking stone.

I did my best to avoid waking Shade as I worked. At one point, he rolled over and muttered what could have been a complaint. Maybe he was cold, or maybe the hiss of the cooking stone was making too much noise as I laid a few cuts of venison across its surface. Either way, I chose to take it as encouragement to finish with making breakfast and get the hut warmed up before he officially woke up.

From beside me, I heard the hide covering the entrance lift up. Raven stepped inside, bringing a gust of cold air behind her and a sense of relief settled into my chest as I noted her damp, freshly combed hair. The feather was still there, tucked into a newly formed braid. Her cheeks were slightly pink, and the fur on her cloak still clung to damp portions of her skin.

She’d simply gone to the grooming den.

Raven let the hide fall behind her as she came up next to me to warm her hands near the fire.

“Morning,” I greeted. “Sleep well?”

“Yes,” she responded, lifting her eyes up to meet mine, “Did you?”

I nodded as I turned the meat over on the stone. “Yeah. I did.”

Raven smiled as she untied her cloak and let it sit loosely across her shoulders.

“Do you ever stop thinking about work?” she asked, tilting her head.

My brow furrowed. “What?”

“You seemed very preoccupied this morning.”

I glanced down at the cooking stone, then back at her. “With breakfast?”

Raven shook her head. “Before breakfast.”

She pulled her cloak off of her and set it aside on the bed.

“Before you woke up,” she clarified, “You kept drawing your brows together as though you were trying to fix something.”

I stared at her. “You were watching me?”

“For a little while.”

She said it so casually that, for a few seconds, I had no idea how to respond.

“Oh,” I eventually said, “I don’t really remember dreaming about anything.”

“It must have been a difficult task, then,” Raven’s smile broadened, “And your nose twitches.”

My free hand rose up before I could stop myself. “It does?”

“A little bit.”

I chuckled as I lowered my hand and returned my attention to our breakfast. “Well, I’m glad I could keep you entertained.”

“You did.”

Raven glanced over her shoulder as Shade shifted beneath his furs again. She waited until he had settled again before turning back towards me.

“Besides, you weren’t trying to get up to do something. I figured I should enjoy it while it lasted.”

I let out a quiet snort. “You almost sound like Rain.”

“Well, somebody has to.”

“I was asleep.”

“And you still looked like you were working.”

I opened my mouth, then paused. There was no argument that I could reasonably make, so I wound up closing it again.

Raven appeared to be pleased with herself.

I checked the venison, and determined that it needed a few more minutes on the cooking stone before the cuts could be considered done. I stood up and reached for our bowls, listening as Raven rubbed her hands together and continued to warm them near the fire.

It must have been particularly bitter outside this morning.

When I turned back, Raven was glancing towards the entrance, the smile now gone from her face.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

Her eyes locked onto mine. “I saw Blaze this morning.”

I paused, holding a bowl in each hand.

“On my way to the grooming den,” she continued, “He was standing farther down the path. Near the trees.”

I frowned, taking in her troubled expression as I set the bowls down. “Was something wrong?”

“I don’t know… but he looked angry.”

A chill settled into my shoulders as I waited for her to continue.

“Not just irritated,” she explained, “I’ve seen him when he was irritated before. This was different. He was looking at our hut. Then he noticed me, and that just seemed to make him angrier.”

I thought for a moment, trying to align the calm, almost cordial silver-haired therian I had met in the grooming den with what Raven was describing.

That’s when I realized something.

Blaze was Thorn’s care-kin. He’d practically raised him. If they had managed to remain as close as I was starting to suspect, that meant that Blaze was technically Raven’s father-in-law. Shade’s grandfather. Family.

“Did you talk to him?” I asked.

Raven shook her head. “No. By the time I thought to say something, he was already leaving.”

My gaze drifted towards the entrance.

For a moment, I thought about going outside. Although, I wasn’t really sure what I expected to find. If Blaze had been there when Raven had left to bathe, he was probably long gone by now.

“Do you know why he would be angry?” I asked, crouching down beside her.

“No,” Raven replied, wrapping her arms around herself. “That’s what worries me.”

The two of us sat in silence briefly as I replayed her words over in my head.

Blaze was angry.

Angry enough to worry Raven.

Considering how she had described Thorn’s anger and how it presented itself, that was troubling.

“Would you speak with him?” Raven finally asked.

My stomach tightened slightly as I looked down at the meat still sizzling on the cooking stone. I turned the pieces over one last time as I considered it.

Blaze hadn’t exactly gone out of his way to reach out to me since our first encounter in the grooming den. Every now and again, I thought I’d seen him. A flash of silver-grey in a crowd. A pale, hulking figure in the distance. But I’d never been able to say with confidence that it had actually been Blaze.

Likewise, Bone’s warning still rang clearly in my head.

“Stay away from him whenever possible. I don’t think getting answers out of him will be of any help to you.”

I frowned slightly.

Really, I didn’t need to go to Blaze to ask about Thorn.

I wasn’t the one that required an explanation for anything.

Raven did.

“I can try,” I told her, “Just one problem… I have absolutely no idea where Blaze lives.”

Raven paused. “Neither do I. Not exactly.”

I stared at her.

They lived in the same tribe. They were practically family, and she didn’t know where Blaze lived? How could someone so closely connected to Thorn’s family remain so distant?

“He told me that if I wanted answers, I knew where to find him,” I mentioned.

“ Thorn knew where to find him,” Raven corrected, “He always knew where he was.”

“Always?”

“Always.”

I could feel an ache start to worm its way into my chest.

“I know that he lives in an older stone hut on the other side of the village,” Raven explained, “It’s located lower down the mountain tucked somewhere in the trees. I’ve seen him take the path down there before.”

My expression flattened. “So I’m looking for a hut. On the mountain. Near some trees…”

Raven gave my knee a light shove. “I’m sure you’ll find it.”

“Find what?”

Raven and I turned as Shade began pushing himself up out of bed. His hair stuck up on one side, and he already had Bunny tucked underneath one arm as he began rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

I couldn’t help but smile.

“Breakfast,” I said as I started pulling the meat off of the cooking stone. “If you’re hungry.”

Shade stopped to think about that for roughly half a second before he climbed out of bed and trotted over to us.

The three of us finished breakfast without much more discussion about Blaze.

Shade had plenty to say still about his carvings, though. By the time I’d finished cleaning the cooking stone and pulled on my cloak, the ram had apparently defeated the bear three times.

Raven walked me to the entrance.

“Don’t spend your whole morning looking if you can’t find him,” she said, placing a hand on one of my shoulders.

I nodded. “I won’t.”

“And David?”

I turned back just as I had pulled back the hide.

Raven fixed me with a serious look. “If he wants to be left alone, let him.”

I nodded once more. “I will.”

The cold immediately found its way beneath my collar as I stepped outside, making me pull my cloak closer around myself as I followed the path down through the village.

For a while, everything was familiar; the same huts that I passed by nearly every day with the same voices that I always heard drifting between them. Around one fire, there was a group that was arguing about a missing bowl, then I passed the turn-off that led towards Bone’s hut and kept walking.

I passed by the healer’s den and the grooming den before the path eventually curved down and passed through a cluster of stone buildings into a part of the village that I barely explored.

There were more people there than I was expecting.

Outside of one hut, a woman struggled to fasten a cloak around a little girl who seemed hellbent on trying to squirm her way out of it. Farther down beside the path, two men were examining a spear. One held it level while the other ran his thumb along the binding beneath its head.

Just past them, someone was sharpening a blade.

My footsteps slowed.

Most of the men were carrying weapons, even those who appeared to be doing little more than carrying loads of firewood into their huts. Many of them carried the same stoic, watchful air that I’d noticed among the few warriors I’d managed to meet.

Their families moved around them with considerably less caution than I did.

Just as I passed by them, a small boy darted between the two men examining the spear. One of them caught him by the back of his tunic without so much as a glance.

“Walk,” he ordered sternly.

The boy’s feet returned to the ground.

He walked for all of three steps before he took off running again.

I kept going, trying not to stare.

A few people glanced up as I passed by. One man watched me long enough to make me extremely cautious about where exactly I was walking.

My pace slowed again as the path started to descend more steeply. Spruce and pine trees stood tall between the huts here, their branches heavy with snow, and several smaller trails branched away from the main route.

I stopped at the first fork I came to.

An older stone hut that was lower down the mountain, tucked somewhere between the trees.

Looking around, there were at least four buildings that I could see that fit that description.

“You looking for someone?”

I turned.

A soldier stood beside a stack of firewood, one arm braced against the top of it. A short blade hung on his hip.

“Blaze,” I answered. “I was told he lives down here.”

The soldier glanced toward the trees. “He does.”

I waited.

There was an awkward moment of silence between us as he turned his head back to me and our eyes locked.

“Could you point me in the right direction?” I asked him.

His brow lifted slightly, but he straightened his posture and gestured down one of the narrow paths that branched off to the right.

“Follow that path past the hut with the broken pine beside it. His has an old red scouting flag attached to it.”

“Thank you.”

The soldier nodded and reached for a piece of wood as I turned down the path he’d indicated.

The sounds of the village grew quieter as I continued to descend. The blanket of snow covering the ground thinned into a sheet beneath the trees.

I passed the broken pine. Beyond it, the path bent around a rocky outcropping, and the hut finally came into view.

It was older than most of the buildings I’d passed. Dark stone walls that looked damp and mossy, even now. A roof with a thick layer of snow covering it. A dark red flag, tattered and worn, flew overhead. The entrance sat tucked between two trees, and a thin trail of smoke rose overhead.

I stopped a few steps away from it. For some reason, finding the place had been easier than actually standing outside of it.

Taking a deep breath, I adjusted my cloak, approached the entrance, and knocked against the frame.

A soft rumble came from inside.

“Come in.”

The voice that came from within the hut was so low that I felt it almost as much as I heard it.

Cautiously, I lifted the hide and ducked inside.

I hadn’t taken three steps into the space before I stopped.

The first things I noticed were the eyes— two golden yellow points that reflected in the gloom of the hut. My first impression was that I was looking at a white tiger as it lifted its massive head off of the floor before it slowly rose onto its paws.

Then I noticed the markings.

Dark rosettes patterned the pale fur along its shoulders and flanks. Its body was riddled with deep battle scars. A thick tail curved behind it, its end resting at the foot of a well-made bed.

A snow leopard.

It was the biggest snow leopard I’d ever seen.

For several long, terrifying moments, we watched each other. Had I known Blaze was a snow leopard therian, I probably would have been impressed,  but that feeling was smothered by the realization that I was standing a few paces away from a set of very long, very sharp teeth.

Then the pale fur began to recede and the massive cat’s body began to change as Blaze shifted. In a matter of seconds, the silver-haired man I remembered from the grooming den was there, crouched down beside the fire.

“You found me,” he stated.

“Eventually,” I responded with a shrug.

Blaze paused.

His whole demeanor had changed since that night in the grooming den. The familiar and friendly tone he had used was gone. His expression remained flat and riddled with suspicion, and he didn’t seem quite as eager to approach me as he settled himself back down behind the fire.

“What brings you here?” he asked.

I took a step forward. “Raven says she saw you this morning.”

Blaze’s expression barely changed. “Did she?”

I nodded. “On her way to the grooming den. She thought something might be wrong.”

His eyes lowered towards the fire.

“She was worried,” I continued, taking another step forward, “She sent me to see how you were doing.”

Blaze’s brow lowered as his eyes lifted back up to mine. “And how do I look?”

I swallowed as I took a step back. “Like you’d prefer that I hadn’t.”

Blaze was silent for a few more seconds before he let a breath out through his nose and lowered his gaze again.

“I’m fine,” he said, “Just bad news. That’s all.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Blaze’s eyes flicked back up, that golden eyeshine catching in the light momentarily before they settled back onto me.

For a brief moment, I thought that’d be the end of it. That I was about to be dismissed, turn around, and begin making the hike up the mountain back to the hut. At least I’d be able to return to Raven with some sort of an answer for her.

Instead, however, Blaze positioned himself on the bedding behind him and slowly gestured to the open space on the other side of the firepit.

“Sit.”

I obliged, loosening my cloak and setting it aside before settling where he’d pointed.

Blaze didn’t take his eyes off me the entire time.

“Who showed you the way?” he asked me.

“A soldier up the path,” I replied, “I didn’t catch his name.”

“Raven didn’t bring you?”

“No, she stayed behind with Shade.”

Blaze nodded slowly as I held my hands towards the fire.

“Does your hut always stay this warm?” I asked.

Blaze shrugged. “Stone holds heat.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

His gaze moved over my face. “You used to complain about it.”

“The heat?”

“The hut.” Blaze rested an arm across one of his knees. “Said I’d chosen the darkest, dampest hole on the whole mountain.”

I struggled to suppress a laugh as I glanced around the hut. It was tidy. Firewood stood stacked within reach of the pit, and several baskets rested beneath a low shelf. A grey cloak hung on a peg driven into the wall near the entrance. Farther back near the bed, a few small objects were left sitting on a flat stone, but they sat at an angle where I couldn’t quite make out what they were.

“Seems pretty comfortable to me,” I commented.

Blaze paused again as one of his ears flicked. “Does it?”

I nodded.

He studied me for another moment before he turned and reached for one of the objects from the flat stone. He came back holding a dark arrowhead.

“Here,” he said as he passed it over to me. “I know you occasionally feel the need to look at it.”

I frowned as I took it in my hand. It was small, barely more than an inch long, and its point had a chip in it on one side. Something almost black remained caught in one of the grooves at the bottom.

I stared at it a lot longer than I meant to, turning it over between the tips of my fingers and occasionally running them along the edges.

“Where did you get this?” I asked.

Blaze’s brow lowered again. “You don’t recognize it?”

“No.”

Blaze’s tail whipped across the bedding behind him.

“That came from the arrow that killed your father.”

My heart froze as my eyes remained fixed on the arrowhead. I found myself looking it over again, paying considerably more attention to the chip in it and the dark substance that was stuck in the grooves.

An arrow had killed Thorn’s father? That led to so many more questions, some more morbid than others. Who had loosed it? Why? Had it been quick, or did he suffer as a result of being struck?

A single fingertip lingered against the tiny broken space at the tip of the arrowhead while my eyes settled on the grooves.

My stomach flipped.

I didn't want to think about what that dark substance could be.

And now, I dreaded the look I might see on Blaze’s face.

That feeling of dread was familiar, too. I had felt it with both Raven and Echo. The feeling that came from being asked too many questions that I didn’t hold the answers to, and sitting in front of someone who waited silently as they gauged my reaction.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Blaze hold out his hand.

“I see…” I said slowly, passing the arrowhead back to him.

“Do you?”

I kept my eyes fixed on the floor.

I did see.

I knew what this was.

I was being interrogated.

Again.

The realization made my brows draw together, and my stomach tightened. My hands curled into fists against my knees as my frustration caught up with me.

Just when I thought it was over — the endless questions, the hostility, the suspicious looks— here was another therian that was willing to put me through it all over again.

And now, sitting in the dim light of Blaze’s hut with the image of the massive snow leopard burned into my mind, I felt trapped.

A deep rumble rose up from the depths of my throat until it sounded like it’d filled the whole hut.

“Breaker?”

The sound of Blaze’s voice made me rise from my seat on the floor. I rounded the edge of the firepit towards him, and Blaze quickly rose to his feet. After only taking a few long strides, I stood toe to toe with the scout, my nose mere inches away from his.

Slowly, the rumbling turned into words.

“Look, Blaze– Watcher– whoever you are,” I growled, “I’m through with being interrogated. First Echo, then Raven. Now you? What’s next?”

Blaze’s expression had completely changed. His eyes were wide now, and his mouth hung open in shock. His hands hovered irritatingly close to my shoulders. The pale ears that had been lying flat against his head had lifted, and his tail had gone still behind him.

“I only came here because we were worried,” I continued, snarling at him, “Raven was worried. I was worried. You’re supposed to be family…”

The word knocked most of the anger and frustration out of me.

The exhaustion I remembered feeling after I had my panic attack resurfaced, and I deflated momentarily, struggling to hold myself together.

“But, if that isn’t what you want, then I’ll leave. And I'll do my best not to disturb you ever again.”

Blaze stared at me for several seconds before his brow slowly lowered again.

“Just one final question for you, if you’d be so kind,” he said in a low growl.

I let a long breath out through my nose before I straightened my posture and waited.

“Do you remember what you said to me the last time we spoke?” Blaze asked as he stared daggers into me. “ Before the grooming den.”

“No,” I answered bluntly, turning towards the entrance. “I don’t.”

The silence between us was deafening as I slipped on my cloak and worked to secure the fastenings.

“Thorn,” Blaze suddenly spoke up from behind me. His voice sounded slightly strained. “Food. Firewood. Make sure the entrance to your hut is secure.”

I shot him a confused look. “What?”

Blaze sat on the edge of his bed as a troubled expression settled onto his face. He rolled his shoulders, stretching out various parts of his body.

“Joints are aching,” he said, wincing slightly, “There’s a storm coming. A bad one. Make sure you, Raven, and Shade have everything you might need.”

I blinked at him, then slowly pulled back the hide covering the entrance to try to get a look at the sky. It was grey and the wind was blowing steadily.

I frowned at it. “How soon?”

Blaze shrugged. “A day. Maybe two.”

I nodded once before slipping out of the hut and retracing my steps until I found the main path again.

The soldier that had stopped and pointed me in the right direction still stood next to his stack of wood, now looking slightly more interested as he watched me approach the fork in the path.

“Did you find him?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said, now considerably less timid than I’d probably sounded earlier. “I found him.”

“And?”

I stopped as I considered Blaze’s warning.

“He says a storm is coming,” I said, turning to him. “Be prepared.”

The soldier glanced down the path I had just stepped off of, then back to me. He nodded once before he began pulling multiple logs into his arms.

My eyes wandered up the trail ahead of me, and something in me sank as I took in the steep incline. The only way back now was up, and I grumbled under my breath as I forced myself to begin the steady march back towards the village.

As I walked, my ears picked up on a sound that seemed to follow me along the trees. It was the eerie yodeling and tremolos of a loon. Too loud for me to be anywhere near the lake, and too many for it to be natural.

The way the people carried themselves here began to change. Every person my eyes caught sight of now kept one hand against whatever weapon they carried. Children stopped in their tracks and stared. The two men I had seen examining the spear had moved several feet back away from the path.

I started to bristle at the sound as I started to understand what it meant.

“Thorn is angry. He’s coming. Do not stand in his way.”

I let out a quiet snort.

“Looks like your reputation still precedes you here, Thorn,” I said under my breath.

The only response I received was the unease that gnawed at my gut as I watched the little girl I had seen trying to wriggle her way out of her cloak earlier run away from the path and into her mother’s arms.

I kept moving.

The tension slowly eased out of me as the buildings and people started becoming more familiar. The cover of the forest gradually thinned until it gave way to the sight of the open sky and the mountains ahead. All around me, people worked and chatted with one another. Children darted in and out from between the huts. Hardly anybody stopped in their tracks as I passed by. When they did, it was simply to offer me a greeting.

The people knew me here.

Here, they greeted me without a hand hovering over a weapon.

I took a deep breath and let the rest of my tension go in a sigh, creating a white cloud that quickly vanished into the winter air as I made my way towards home.

A gust of wind caught the edge of my cloak before I reached the end of the path that led up to the hut.

I pulled it closer around myself and looked up.

The mountains had changed since this morning. The clouds hung low across the peaks, hiding sections of the ridgeline behind a thick grey curtain. Farther up the valley, the slopes had begun to disappear entirely.

I slowed.

Back in Alaska, Grandpa would be bringing in firewood by now. Grandma would be doing inventory of the pantry, filling a few extra containers with water, and complaining about whatever we’d forgotten to do before the weather turned.

Neither of them would have needed aching joints to know what was coming, and I’d been too preoccupied with Blaze to pay attention.

Another gust of wind swept along the path, sending loose snow skittering around my boots. Somewhere nearby, a hide snapped against its frame.

“Food. Firewood. Make sure the entrance to your hut is secure.”

I quickened my pace as I turned up the path.

By the time I reached the hut, the loose edge of the hide that covered our entrance was lifting in the wind. I caught it, examining the tie near the bottom. The leather had worked loose enough to let cold air slip beneath it.

That would need fixing.

I stepped inside.

Raven looked up from beside Shade, who had arranged his cravings over the surface of the bedding.

“Did you find him?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I replied as I unfastened my cloak, “I found him.”

“How did it go?”

I paused.

“He said it was just some bad news,” I told her, “He didn’t elaborate.”

Raven’s brows drew together as she studied my face.

I let out a sigh. “Then he started asking me about things Thorn would remember.”

Raven’s expression fell. “Oh, David…”

“I told him I wasn’t doing that again.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke as Shade carefully balanced the ram on a fold in the bedding.

“Blaze did warn me about something, though,” I added, “There’s a storm coming. He thinks it’ll be bad.”

Raven rose from beside Shade. “How soon?”

“A day. Maybe two.” I glanced back towards the entrance. “Looking at the mountains, I think he might be right.”

Raven crossed the hut and lifted the hide just far enough to look outside. She held onto it firmly as the wind tugged it in her grip.

When she turned back, her expression had changed.

“We should get more wood inside,” she said quickly.

I nodded. “I was thinking the same thing. And that bottom tie needs to be tightened.”

“I’ll check the food.”

Shade sprang up from the bed, his attention caught by the sudden commotion.

“Can I help?” he asked, craning his head to look up at me.

I looked down at him. “You can carry the little pieces of firewood.”

“Lots of them?”

I turned as I considered the weather we were dealing with already. The last thing I wanted was for the wind and the cold to make him sick.

“Let’s start with a few,” I said.

Raven reached for his warmer furs before he could get any farther. Shade stood there impatiently as she fastened them securely around his little body.

I crouched near the entrance and worked to free the leather tie. My fingers felt stiff from the cold, but the knot came apart with little resistance.

Shade came to stand beside me as Raven moved to inspect our food stores.

“Is it fixed?” he asked me.

“Almost,” I said.

I pulled the hide snug against the frame and secured the tie again.

The cold that had been slipping against my ankles eased.

“There,” I said, “Fixed.”

Shade inspected my work with a considerable amount of seriousness before reaching for my hand.

I smiled as I took it and stood. I put Blaze’s interrogation of me out of my mind. There’d be plenty of time to worry about that later.

For now, the clouds were coming down the mountains, and we had wood to bring inside. 88Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7TuBO0j2X2

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