The Winter Wolves

Prologue

There were tangible signs of fear in the cold winter wind that whispered through the branches of the snow-cloaked forest. A mother breathed heavily, feeling panic rising deep within her tight chest. The full yellow moon illuminated a narrow path through the thick trees, casting an eerie light on the surroundings. The low baying wolf howls grew closer with every passing second, sending shivers up the frantic mother's spine.

"Mamma! I'm scared!" cried the small girl, her eyes filled with panic. Despite a sprained ankle from finishing their skating escapade on the small remote lake they had hiked to, the mother continued to limp through the deep snow, dragging her daughter along. Regret filled her as she realized her clumsiness and the absence of a phone. In hindsight, she wished they hadn't gone skating that day. They were still far from their vehicle, with no means of calling for help. It was just her and her small daughter, stumbling through knee-deep snow, trying to escape the inevitable savage monsters that were closing in with each passing second.

Determined to ensure her daughter's safety, the mother brought them to a halt in front of a thickly branched pine tree. Time was running out. She hastily lifted her daughter onto the tree, who cried and struggled in her grasp.

"Noooo Mamma!" screamed her daughter in protest.

"Darling, we have no time. Get into the tree and climb. Keep climbing, and don't look down or back," the mother ordered, her voice stern and desperate, a tone the daughter had never heard before. With the branch firmly grasped, the daughter slowly began to climb, tears streaming down her face.

"I'll be right behind you. Just keep climbing," the mother reassured her. She could feel the silent, lethal presence of the wolves surrounding them—surrounding their prey.

There would be no escape.

The daughter climbed, focused solely on her task, oblivious to the murderous event unfolding below. Determined to make her Mamma proud, she climbed higher and higher into the tree. Finally, when she reached a safe height, she cried out with glee. "Look Mamma, I made it!" She looked around at the vast moonlit forest. It was a breathtaking view. The snow sparkled under the bright beams of moonlight; however there was no response.

The only sounds that could be heard were the sharp growls and barks of the wolves below the tree and wet flesh being pulled off of snapping bones. The daughter hugged the tree and hung onto it for life as silent tears began to stream down her warm cheeks leaving frozen tracks in their wake. She was not naive; she knew her mother wasn't coming up the tree, and she knew she would never see her again.

The strong smell of coppery blood permeated the air. The hot breaths of the wolves lingered in the freezing atmosphere. The crimson red of blood winked with the snow under the full cold moon. Warm furred bodies pressed against each other as the wolves fought over the torn, lifeless body.

They were frenzied.

They were crazy.

They were sick.

They were unnatural.

They needed help.

❉

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- deer66