The Collapse

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The first far-hunter nearly passed me without noticing my outstretched hand.

I couldn’t blame him. Snow clung around his eyes, and the rest of him had disappeared beneath so many layers that I couldn’t tell what sort of therian he was. He looked less like a person, and more like a pile of furs fighting its way through the wind.

“Give me that!” I shouted, reaching for the pack hanging off of his shoulder.

He turned towards me. For a moment, I thought he might refuse. Then he slipped the strap free and let the weight drop into my arms.

I staggered back a step, caught my footing, and nodded toward the gathering hall. He followed the gesture without a word.

That was the good thing about the storm, I suppose.

Nobody could see Thorn.

With my hood pulled low and snow collecting on every surface it could find, I looked much like everyone else. Nobody stopped to study my face. Nobody hesitated before handing something over.

Another gust swept between the huts. I turned my face away and coughed into my shoulder until something deep inside my chest gave an ugly rattle.

Just a cold. That's what I kept telling myself, at least.

I swallowed against the soreness in my throat and shifted the pack higher in my arms. The far-hunters were home, the village needed every available set of hands to help bring them in, and Raven was back at the hut keeping Shade warm.

I could help for a little while.

The gathering hall emerged through the snow ahead of me, a massive lodge made of logs that served several purposes, from hosting village meetings and celebrations to communal meals.

Today, it was where the village decided to store the far-hunters’ haul, and provide them shelter from the storm. Someone stood beside its open doorway, waving people inside. I kept my eyes on that moving arm until I reached the steps.

A pair of paws took the pack from my hands before I could carry it any farther.

“More coming?” someone asked.

I nodded, although I had no idea how many hunters were still outside.

Warm air brushed my face. For a moment, I lingered close enough to feel it beneath my hood. Then another hunter struggled up behind me, and I stepped aside to let him through.

There were still others coming.

I turned back into the wind.

The next load was a bundle of rolled hides, bound so tightly that I could barely fit my hands beneath the straps. Its owner helped push it onto my shoulder, then bent to retrieve something that was half buried at his feet.

I waited until he straightened before setting off.

He caught up with me almost immediately. By the time we reached the hall, he was ahead of me, holding the doorway open while I wrestled the bundle through.

I suppose weeks of walking across the plains in the snow would do that for a person.

I left the hides where someone pointed and rubbed my shoulder before turning to go outside again.

The cough caught me before I had taken three steps.

I stopped beside the wall, pressing a hand over my mouth. Each breath seemed to catch on something inside my chest, provoking another cough before I could draw enough air to satisfy the last one.

When it finally eased, my eyes were watering.

I wiped them with the back of my hand and looked toward the path.

A hunter was struggling with a pack whose strap had slipped down his arm. I went to meet him.

After that, there were more bundles. More packs. A long parcel that took two of us to carry, though I never saw the face of the person holding its other end. We set it down just inside the hall, and he clapped my shoulder before disappearing among the others.

I tried to answer him. My voice came out too rough to carry.

It hardly mattered. He was already gone.

Outside, the wind had filled our tracks.

I stood beneath the eaves of the gathering hall long enough to pull my hood farther forward, fumbling with the edge until I managed to cover my ears. My hands felt clumsy. I tucked one beneath the opposite arm and waited for the feeling to return.

Someone called from the snow.

I lowered my head and went toward them.

By the time I reached the next hunter, I was warmer than I had been all evening. Heat collected beneath my coat, prickling along my back despite the wind finding its way through every gap.

Perhaps I had finally done enough walking.

I took the pack he offered.

The gathering hall appeared through the snow whenever the wind briefly relented. I fixed my eyes upon its doorway and walked toward it, clutching the pack against my chest. My legs had begun trembling beneath me, even though I could barely feel them.

Cold. That was all.

Everyone was cold.

Someone took the pack from me. Their mouth moved, but the wind carried away whatever they said. I turned toward the edge of the village again.

The horn sounded somewhere in the distance.

No. It had already sounded.

Hadn’t it?

I stood there trying to remember. Snow struck my face. The gathering hall tilted strangely behind me. It righted itself, then tipped the other way.

I reached toward the wall.

My hands found nothing.

I was farther from it than I had thought.

For a few breaths, I watched the doorway, waiting for it to settle. Someone came through carrying an empty basket. I moved aside, or rather I'd meant to. I nearly stepped into their path instead.

They said something.

I nodded.

That seemed easier than asking them to repeat it.

I needed to get back to the hut.

Raven would know I was sick the moment she saw me. She would be angry that I hadn’t told her. Bone would find out and become even angrier.

I could almost hear him asking whether I had any sense at all.

The thought almost made me laugh.

Instead, I coughed.

Pain tore through my chest. My knees folded, and the ground rushed up before I could put out my hands.

For a moment, lying in the snow felt good. That should have frightened me. I knew that it should have, but the thought was far away. Everything was far away. The wind, the shouts, the dark shapes moving between the huts.

Even the cold.

Snow pressed against my cheek. I turned my face just enough to breathe and waited for the coughing to stop.

When it did, I tried to rise. One arm sank to the elbow, and the rest of me refused to follow.

I stared at my buried hand.

I should have felt something solid beneath it.

I tried again, shifting my weight until my shoulder shook with the effort. All I managed to do was drag a little snow beneath my coat.

The hut wasn’t far.

I had walked that distance so many times already. Past the huts, up the main path, then—

I couldn’t remember which way I was facing.

A figure passed somewhere ahead of me. I tried to call out, but the breath I gathered broke into another cough. By the time I could lift my head, the figure was gone.

I sagged against my elbow as I tried to keep what I could of myself upright. I would rest for a minute. Then I would go home.

As I laid there, trying to get my bearings, a shape emerged from the storm.

I watched it approach without quite understanding what I was seeing. Heavy furs. Snow gathering across broad shoulders. A face hidden beneath a large hood.

It stopped beside me, then dropped onto one knee. A broad hand caught me beneath the arm.

“Come on,” a deep voice growled. “The gathering hall is behind you.”

“I know,” I said.

Or, at least, I tried to say. What came out instead was a rasp.

The stranger began pulling me upright. I pushed with my other hand, hoping I could make the effort easier for him, but my arm buckled. He took more of my weight.

Then the wind shifted.

He froze.

I felt him lean closer as he inhaled one sharp breath against the storm. One of his hands seized the edge of my hood, dragging it away from my face, and I was finally able to get a good look at the therian that had stopped to help me.

Blaze stared down at me.

For one long moment, neither of us moved.

“No.”

His hand pressed against my cheek.

I tried to tell him I was all right. The words caught behind another cough, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe around it. Blaze caught my shoulder as my body curled inward.

“No, no.” His voice had changed. “Cub, look at me.”

My eyes opened, though I didn’t remember closing them.

His face was closer now. I could see snow caught in the fur lining of his hood, the tightness around his mouth. His hand shifted from my cheek to the side of my neck.

I wanted to ask him what was wrong.

He was already lifting me.

“I can walk,” I managed to choke out.

Blaze gave a low, rough mumble beneath his breath.

One arm slipped beneath my knees. The other wrapped around my back, and the ground fell away before I could find anything else to say. One of my hands reflexively caught his shoulder.

For a moment, I tried to hold myself upright.

Then another cough shook me, and he pulled me against his chest. One of my arms fell uselessly over his shoulder.

I should have corrected him.

I wasn’t his cub. I wasn’t the person whose scent he had recognized beneath the snow. But his hold tightened every time I coughed, and I could hear his heart beating beneath my ear, far too quickly for someone carrying me so steadily.

“Raven,” I whispered.

“I know where the hut is.”

I let my eyes close.

The movement made the dizziness worse. I could feel each step through his arms, but I couldn’t tell whether we were turning or walking straight ahead. Once, I opened my eyes and saw a wall sliding past us. The next time, there was only snow.

A voice called nearby.

Blaze answered, but the wind tore the words apart.

Then I remembered the hunters.

“There’s still—”

“I know,” Blaze growled.

“The packs.”

“Someone else will carry them.”

I wanted to explain that I hadn’t finished. There had been another hunter behind the last one, or perhaps several. I should have checked before walking back toward the hall.

Blaze adjusted the arm he had hooked beneath my knees. “Keep your head against me.”

I hadn’t realized I was trying to lift it.

After that, the village came apart into pieces.

The sway of Blaze’s steps.

Snow melting against my face.

His arm beneath my knees and one massive hand resting against my ribs.

A low voice repeating something I couldn’t understand.

Then we stopped.

Blaze’s chest moved beneath my cheek.

“Raven!” he roared.

The sound made me flinch. His hands pulled me closer as he called again.

I heard the rustle of fabric. The sharp crack of hide flapping in the wind. Light reached through my closed eyelids.

I lifted my head enough to see Raven standing in the doorway.

Her eyes moved from Blaze’s face to mine. “What—”

“Let me bring him inside.”

Raven nodded as she pulled the hide hanging in the doorway wider. “Bring him in.”

The warmth hurt when it reached me. Shade cried out somewhere near the fire. I turned toward the sound, but Blaze was moving again, and Raven had a hand against my face.

“Oh, David...”

I tried to smile at her.

The corners of my mouth barely lifted.

Her hands found my throat, then the front of my coat as she fought with the fastenings.

“He’s burning!” she said frantically.

“He was lying in the snow,” Blaze told her.

Raven looked up at him.

I wanted to tell her it hadn’t been long. I’d only stopped for a moment. But I couldn’t remember how long I’d been there, and the breath I drew to answer caught painfully in my chest.

“Help me get these off,” she said.

Blaze lowered me onto the bedding. For the briefest moment, his hand remained behind my head, keeping it from striking the hides.

Then he pulled away.

Raven knelt beside me. She pushed my hood back and worked a fastening loose beneath my chin. Meltwater ran along my neck.

I reached up to help her.

My hand settled over hers, but I couldn’t seem to make my fingers do anything useful.

“Leave it,” she murmured. “I’ve got it.”

I let her push my hand aside.

Blaze caught the edge of my coat while Raven eased one of my arms free. They shifted me between them, and I tried to follow what they needed, tried to lift my shoulder when Raven asked.

The effort brought on another coughing fit.

I curled toward her before I could stop myself. Her hands spread across my back, holding me while I coughed and coughed, until my chest ached and there was scarcely enough strength left to draw another breath.

“Easy,” she said gently, though her voice had begun to tremble now. “I’m here.”

When I could lie back again, the coat was gone.

Blaze pulled it away from the bedding. Snow fell from its folds onto the floor.

I wanted to thank him.

I wanted to apologize.

Mostly, I wanted to sleep.

Raven reached for a dry pelt. I caught its edge as it settled over me and tried to draw it higher, but Raven did it for me. One of her hands lingered over mine.

Blaze said something near the entrance.

I opened my eyes.

He was looking at Raven, though I couldn’t follow what passed between them. I heard the word lungs. Then another low mumble before he spoke again.

“I have something for it,” he told her.

Raven’s answer came quickly. “Get it.”

Blaze stepped out of the hut.

“And send Rain,” she added. “Flower, too. If you see Bone or Echo, tell them what's happened.”

He nodded once. Then he was gone.

I tried to watch the place where he’d been.

Raven leaned into view.

“Stay with me,” she pleaded softly.

“I’m here.”

My words were scarcely more than breath, but I could tell she'd heard them. Her mouth moved as though she might smile, but nothing came of it.

I felt a light tug on the pelt near my shoulder.

Shade stood beside the bedding, holding Bunny against his chest. His ears were lowered, and he kept looking from my face to Raven’s.

I tried to lift my hand toward him.

He came closer before I managed it.

“Here.”

He set Bunny beside my paw, then pushed him a little nearer when I didn’t pick him up.

“Bunny always makes me feel better when I don’t feel good.”

I looked down at the toy.

One ear had folded beneath his head. The stitching I’d worked so carefully into him was close enough to see, though I couldn’t seem to keep it in focus.

I tried to close my fingers around him.

Shade watched.

Raven reached across me and settled Bunny against my side, tucking him beneath my arm in the same way Shade had always tucked him against himself.

“There,” she said softly.

I wanted to thank Shade. Tell him that I’d look after Bunny, and that he could have him back as soon as I felt better.

“Thank you,” I rasped.

He nodded, but stayed where he was.

Another cough caught me.

I turned away from him, pressing my face towards the bedding as my chest tightened. Raven helped lift my shoulder. One of her hands moved over my back, and I held on to the pelt until the coughing eased enough for me to hear again.

“Is he going to get up?” Shade asked in a small voice.

Raven’s hand stopped for a moment.

“He needs to rest first,” she told him.

I tried to look back at him. “I’ll—”

The rest wouldn’t come.

Raven brushed the hair away from my eyes.

“You don’t have to talk,” she said, cupping my face.

But Shade was still there. Still waiting for an answer I should have been able to give him.

I found his hand near the edge of the bedding and rested mine over it.

He curled his fingers around it immediately.

For a little while, I could feel that.

Then the door opened again.

I heard Rain’s voice.

“Where is he?”

Raven shifted beside me. Shade’s fingers slipped from mine, and someone knelt in the place where he had been standing.

“David.”

I opened my eyes to find Rain leaning over me.

“Can you hear me?” he asked.

I nodded.

I heard him ask something else. My best guess was how long this had been going on for; when had it first started?

I tried to remember the first cough. The firewood. Shade walking beside me.

“Earlier,” I said weakly.

“Earlier today?” Rain looked at Raven. “He was coughing before he went out?”

“A little,” she replied, “I didn’t know it was this bad.”

Neither had I.

I meant to tell them that, but Rain had already moved on, easing the pelt away from my chest and asking me to breathe.

I tried.

His expression changed. “Again.”

The next breath broke into a cough. He waited through it, keeping one hand steady against my shoulder.

“Can you warm some water, Raven?” Rain asked, looking towards the fire.

Raven nodded and began to rise.

I caught her wrist. It was hardly a grip, but she felt it. She looked down at my hand, then at me.

“I’m only going over there,” she said to me.

I knew that.

I didn’t know why I had stopped her.

She sighed and lowered herself beside me again.

“All right,” she whispered.

Rain got up instead.

I heard him moving things near the pit. Something scraped against the stone. Shade said something I couldn’t understand, and Rain answered him in a gentler tone that I'd ever heard him use before.

Raven kept her wrist beneath my hand.

I heard the hide hanging in the entrance move again.

This time, I knew the footsteps. Rhythmic. Heavy.

Bone’s voice reached me before I could see him.

“What happened?”

“He went out to help the hunters,” Raven said.

There was a pause.

“Like this?” he asked.

“Blaze found him in the snow,” Rain answered from near the fire.

I heard Bone let out a grunt as he came closer.

I made myself open my eyes. He was dressed in layers of heavy dark brown furs. His hood was still up, and snow had begun melting across his shoulders.

“David, what were you thinking?” he growled, looking down at me, “If you were already sick, you should have—”

“Stop trying to argue with him!” Raven’s voice cut in, “Not in this hut. Not while he’s like this.”

Bone stared at her.

For a moment, the only sound that filled the hut was the fire.

I wanted to explain. Bone had asked me a question, and I could remember enough of the answer. I'd heard the horn. There were people outside who needed help, and I was able to help them.

Until I wasn’t.

I drew in a breath.

Raven’s fingers closed around my hand.

Bone looked back down at me. His shoulders lowered.

“All right,” he said, quieter this time. He pulled his hood back. “What can I do?”

“More wood,” Rain said. “And I need another cloth.”

Bone moved away at once.

I shut my eyes before I could thank him.

The room shifted around me.

Wood settling onto the fire. Raven’s hand against my forehead. Rain saying my name again.

I answered him, or thought I did.

At some point, Flower came in. I recognized her voice before I felt her touch. She spoke quietly to Rain, then leaned close enough for me to hear.

“David, I’m going to help you sit a little higher,” she told me.

I didn’t understand why until they moved me. My chest protested, and I caught at Raven’s arm.

“I’ve got you,” she said.

Something soft was pushed behind my shoulders.

When they let me settle, Raven was still beside me.

Near the door, Echo called softly over to Shade.

“Come here, little one.”

He didn’t want to. I heard it in the silence before he answered.

“Can I stay?”

His words made my chest ache with something that rivaled the one my coughing had caused.

“Of course,” Echo eventually said, “Come. Sit with me.”

Their voices moved toward the fire.

I tried to look for him.

Raven placed a hand against my cheek. “He’s right there.”

I let my head sink into the bedding.

Rain and Flower were talking again. I caught a few words, lost the next ones, then heard ‘Winter Lung' clearly enough that I opened my eyes.

Winter Lung. That didn't sound good.

Grandma would have known what to do with a cough.

The thought came so suddenly that, for a moment, I expected her to walk into the hut with a blanket over one arm, holding my hand as she gently scolded me for working myself sick.

But Raven was the one holding my hand.

And someone else stepped into the hut.

A low mumble reached me through the voices.

Blaze.

“Fire Lung,” he stated. “That’s what we call it.”

Something was set down nearby. Flower asked him a question. He answered. I couldn’t follow either of them.

Raven’s hand slipped from mine.

I tried to find it.

“I’m still here,” she called to me.

Another hand slid beneath my neck, calloused and rough.

“Open your eyes.”

Blaze knelt down beside me. He had taken off his hood. Melted snow created a dark grey shadow across his shoulders. In one of his hands, he held a small cup.

He waited until I was looking at him.

“Just a little,” he said, lifting it towards me.

The rim touched my mouth. Something bitter spread across my tongue, and I turned my head away.

“No!” he ordered, steadying me. “You swallow it.”

I managed the mouthful. It left a taste so sharp that my eyes watered.

“Watcher,” I mumbled.

I remembered the name from the grooming den.

The same name that I had spat at him earlier that morning.

Somehow, it was easier than just calling him Blaze.

The hand beneath my neck went rigid. His golden eyes fixed themselves onto mine.

I stared up at him, trying to understand what I’d done.

Then I coughed, and he moved again, setting the cup aside while he helped hold me forward. Raven caught my hand. Somewhere behind them, Shade began crying.

By the time it passed, I couldn’t lift my head.

Blaze eased me back.

“One more,” he said.

I tried to turn away before the cup reached me.

“Come on.”

His voice was lower now, almost pleading.

I swallowed what he gave me. Warmth followed the bitterness down my throat, but the taste stayed. I pressed my tongue against the roof of my mouth, wishing I could get rid of it.

“That’s enough for now,” Flower said.

The cup moved away.

Blaze’s hand remained beneath my neck while Raven adjusted the bedding. Then he lowered my head carefully and drew the pelt back over my shoulder.

“Thank you,” Raven said to him.

He didn’t answer.

“You can stay with him, if you'd like,” she continued. “You can remain beside your son as long as—”

“Don’t call him that.” Blaze was close enough that I could hear the breath he took. “He is not my son.”

I tried to open my eyes.

“I…” His voice faltered. “I don’t know what he is.”

Everyone in the hut fell silent.

The fire faded.

So did the wind.

Then I couldn’t hear anything at all. 78Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPdR5hpvLKw

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