Ice-Bound Promise [Wattys 2023 Shortlister]

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The dogs were restless, and so was Únik. Judging the hour was difficult at this time of year, here at the edge of the world, but she tried to hold to a semblance of days and nights. Unable to sleep, the dogs howling and pulling at their chains, she decided to get dressed and head out for the morning scavenge, whether it was morning or not.

Wrapped in thick snow bear pelts, she unhitched Barsa, the lead dog. Heavy set, like herself, his head almost reaching her chest, Barsa was her favourite among the sled dogs. She shouldn't have a favourite, they were working animals and she should treat them as such, but Barsa had that loyalty about him that endeared the great hound to her.

With the big sled dog by her side, she forced her way through the snow drifts towards the bay, whale hook in hand, rope wrapped around her chest and pack hanging over her shoulders.. Above, the scintillating ribbons of the aurora gilded the sky. Clear, this morning, or night, she could see the stars beyond the rippling colours of the aurora, light reflecting from the moons little as the two larger moons hid beyond the horizon, leaving only Kavis and the smallest moon, Iri, to shine their light upon the vast wastes of snow and ice.

Making good time, Barsa remaining by her side, his thick, strong legs brushing aside deep drifts, Únik saw the bay ahead. Tracis' Midden, as people called it, was a place where everything and anything could wash up against the ice floes. Following twisting currents and tides from the north, the hook of the bay was the last place upon Karramon where things floating down would congregate before the undercurrents would drag them off, far into the ice blasted ocean beyond, to the west.

It was a hard place to live. Cold, barren and far from any kind of civilisation. Just as Únik liked it. She had found herself here many years before after the death of her husband, fleeing as far as her legs could carry her until she had reached a place where she could travel no further and there she had made her home. Happy, isolated and free. A woman alone with only her dogs for company and the eyes of the Patrons upon her.

Barsa began to growl as the wind began to pick up, lifting the soft, new snow and sending it in flurries about them. The wind bit through Únik's scarf, pricking at her swarthy features beneath and she ducked her head against the onslaught, forcing her way forward. She had had to suffer worse than a mild flurry of snow in her face.

Hand atop her head, holding down the hood of her thick, fur coat, she prodded the butt of her whale hook into the snow, dragging herself ever forward, hoping that the journey would not become a wasted one. The Midden had gifted her with enough to live on, for the time being, but she would soon need oil for her lanterns, or wood for her fires. Food for her belly. Hers and the dogs, though she could, on occasion, allow them to free roam in search of ice foxes, birds or whatever they could find.

What she hoped for, what she needed, was a good size whale to haul from the frigid waters. Not dead too long, she'd prefer, but big enough for her to need the dogs to haul the carcass back to the rendering hut. There, to flens the corpse of its blubber and to boil that down for the precious oil that could light her home. Big enough and she could take the oil north, to Nihirgng, the nearest town, along with the whale bone, and earn coin for the things the Midden could not gift her.

Again, Barsa growled. This time she took greater notice, stopping in her stride through the snow to observe the animal. If the dog had smelled snow bears, she would haul nothing from the waters this day. Crouching, she used her snow bear pelt coat to help her blend in with the surroundings, reaching out with mittened hand to soothe the big sled dog.

Barsa's nose jerked in the air several times, tail pointed straight out at his rear, legs bent and poised, though he would do nothing without her permission. The dog lowered his head, staring out towards the bay, hidden by the swirling flakes of snow in the wind. Not one for fancies, Únik knew Barsa would not act so without reason.