The Guilty Ones

“Can we light a fire? I’m cold!” a young boy whined.

Instantly, the teeth chattering froze as every head turned to glance at the shivering child with a red nose and blue fingers. Harsh winter wind screamed through the cave; it scratched any exposed millimetre of flesh, tearing it to shreds. Shuddering, the boy - no older than seven winters - gazed past the huddling families. Silently, he pleaded wide-eyed with the woman hunched at the mouth of the cave. They had been travelling for weeks. Everything ached; their stomachs rumbled. A fire could at the very least soothe one agony.

“Come here,” she said.

Her voice bounced through the cave. The boy’s mother sucked in a breath, burying herself into her mate’s shoulder. Scrambling to his feet, the child hurried forward. Tripping over the limbs of sleeping forms, he weaved his way among the wolves to the mouth of the cave. Continuing to skin the fleshy fruit in her hands, the woman glanced across at the shivering pup.

“Tell me, what do you see?” she asked.

Confused, the child replied, “trees? I see lots and lots of trees.”

“Behind those trees.”

The boy paused, thinking for a moment. As far as the eye could see, thick forests covered the land, the tips of the trees swaying in the strong winds. Hidden by the foliage, great rivers flowed marking the borders to each of the Packs. Scattered on the edges of every Pack, the Umbra laid in wait, protecting the young and training the willing.

“Bunnies?” the boy asked.

He vaguely remembered spotting one bunny bounding around on their journey.

“Yes,” the woman replied, a slight smirk playing on her lips, “there are also rabbits.”

Suddenly, an ear-splitting howl screamed from the woods. Parents clutched their pups as mates clung to one another. Muttered prayers sent to the Moon Goddess whispered through the cave. Hearts raced. Blood pumped like the beat of a drum in their ears. Frantic eyes scanned the entrance.

Dropping her fruit, the woman slunk into a defensive stance. Cloaked by shadows, she turned the blade in her hand, reaching for a second strapped to her belt. Her hands trembled slightly, her heart thudding in her ears. With deep breaths, she steadied herself, slowly creeping closer to the edge of the cave. Her blades caught the light of the full moon, glinting a bright deadly silver. Waiting, she scanned the treeline for the threat. When none appeared, she relaxed ever so slightly.

“That is what lies in the forests. Pack wolves.”

Her voice chilled every wolf to the bone. Over and over, her words played again and again in their minds. The Packs were close; the Packs were coming. Mothers kissed their pups, terrified it would be the last. Tight hugs shared between every family for the final time. More muttered prayers left chapped lips for the Moon Goddess as hands clasped together so tightly that knuckles shone white.

Eventually, their heart rate slowed down. Pups curled up against their parents. A gentle lullaby whispered through the cave, carried by the harsh wind. Mates lay down, side by side, hands intertwined, refusing to let go of one another. The many wolves left mateless huddled together - unaccustomed to sleeping without the hug and heat of another. Gradually, the wolves succame to sleep one by one. All fell asleep beside the one woman standing guard at the mouth of the cave, her almond dark eyes scanning the swaying tips of the trees ahead. A scowl remained on her lips.

The Pack wolves should not be that close. Their patrols should have stopped at the fork in the river, not at the foot of the hill.