Chapter 1: Are you sure, Zima?
Zima
I woke up to my fathers steady snoring. The first sunrays shone through the window. I shoved my comfy black blanket to the side and immediately froze. It was extremely cold. Again. That's one of the problems with being a rouge, you don't get to enjoy the benefits of a warm, magnificent packhouse. Cautiously, I stood up and went outside to get wood to make fire. I put it in the oven and took the lighter to light some newspaper to burn the wood. I turned around to look if my father was awake.
"Dad? You awake?"
He let out a low growl and turns around.
"It's too cold, Zima. Leave me."
"Why don't you just buy a new jacket? It won't get warmer anymore."
"Because we don't have any money. You could as well move your lazy ass and go to get a job."
I sighed and looked around. Our house was cheap, but not in a bad condition. It's entirely made out of dark wood. We don't have any heaters or electricity, so it doesn't protect against any kind of cold, but it's fine. Since my father's mate, my mother, left us, we haven't had any money. My father was so devastated, he lost his job. My younger brother died a few years later. He wasn't able to survive the haunting cold of the Siberian winters, he was too young and weak, that didn't improve my father's condition.
"So no food today?"
"Go hunt. This week the elks are around."
I sighed again and let my wolf, Kholodno, claim my body. I felt his warmth and strength overtake my muscles and all the scents, which I wasn't able to detect beforehand, fill up my nose. Kholodno was already desperate to shift and hunt, feeling that my body was craving for food. He let out a short cry and shifted. My bones crack and I felt the satisfaction of my stretching muscles. After a few seconds, I stood on four legs, my thick, white, kind of blue shimmering fur protecting me against the almost hurting cold. Kholodno growled because of the icy wind, triggered by him opening the door. He immediately started sprinting through the snow, always smelling the air so only the slightest sign of prey would call his perfectly trained instincts on the surface.
Did you hear that?
Kholodno asked me.
Hooves. In the Forest. Probably at the River.
Let's check it out.
With those words, he darted into the woods. As soon as the river appears in the distance, he shifted into a stalk, he held his head down and moved slower. A small herd of elk drank on the other side of the river. They hadn't seen him by now, he was doing a good job with hiding his fur in the snow. The only thing that could possibly give him away are his eyes. A complete black, they seem to suck in all light, and with that, all the happiness and warmth.
The elk still didn't see him, he was now at the river, ducked into the snow, perfectly disguised by it, crouching half behind a tree. Kholodno slowly stalked forward, readying himself to jump over the river and kill the elk without it noticing.
With a fast jump, he was on the other side of the small river and darting the 20 meters towards the elk. It was still occupied with turning around to identify where the sounds came from when Kholodno jumped at its neck and broke it. The heavy elk dropped to the ground, roaring the last life out of his massive body.
I did it!
Kholodno happily told me.
You're indeed the best wolf around.
Kholodno was about to put the elk on his back to carry it to my father, as someone crashed through the underwood. He got into his fighting position, not wanting to give up the prey to some filthy cougar.
But it was a wolf.
