I Am Alone

Chapter 3: Fang, Fire, and the Beaver

I shiver even next to the fire. And I refuse to use the wolf for warmth. He might change his mind about eating me.

It had been getting colder since I arrived here, but now it is almost unbearable, I cannot feel my fingers or toes, and my nose and ears are now ice cubes.

I walk out of the cave and breath. I need to find something to wear, or soon I will freeze to death.

The wolf followed me, sniffing the air and standing by my side, it makes me feel a little better, I probably should name him if he's going to stick around.

I grab a rock and a long stick, and I sharpen the rock until it is very sharp, I then use the same sharp rock to cut a notch into the stick, I sit the head of the now spear into the notch, and then finally tie the head down with fiber.

The wolf watches me curiously, cocking its head in confusion on why I would need such an object.

By instinct I pat it's head, and it gladly excepts my pat by wagging it's tail and licking my fingers.

I comb the shoreline, looking for anything to hunt for hide, as I need a lot to make clothes that are heavy enough to withstand the harsh temperature.

Sitting in the bushes next to a frozen stream near the shore, I spot a huge beaver, big enough for me to ride if I really wanted to, but it was perfect, it's pelt would do well as an insulator.

I scan for any other animal, but it is alone, and I hear the wolf growl beside me, he must have caught on to my intentions.

He crouches beside me, his teeth bared and ears laid back to his head. The beaver has no idea we are there.

I jump out of the bushes running, and the wolf follows me, picking up more speed than me. I throw my spear and it pins the beaver down on the snow covered ground before it can even start to run.

The wolf goes for the jugular, biting down, throwing blood in the air, and onto the wolf's face,  it is dead instantly, the wolf looks down and drags the body over to me.

I rub the blood off his snout, and he makes a sound in between a growl and a bark.

I can't carry it back. It it to big, and much to heavy. And it would take too long to walk back with us not running, it would be dark by then.

The wolf seems to understand my issue, and drops the beaver, picking me up by the boxers and placing me on its furry grey back.

It then takes the beaver by the scruff of the neck, and looks back at me on its back, waiting.

Not sure what else to do, I slowly say:

"Mush?"

The wolf rears back, and sprits across the shoreline with me on it's back, I hunker down and grab it's long fur to stay on. And I see the trees flick past, the air like daggers on my bare skin.

Getting used to it, I feel a smile tug on my lips as I let the air hit me. I am riding a horse sized wolf with a wolf sized beaver in it's teeth, I don't care where I am, I feel free, like someone just released me back where I belong.

He slows down, and then trots to a stop at the entrance to the cave. And reality slowly comes back to my head.

Sighing I help the wolf squeeze the beaver into the entrance of the cave. And he lays down by the fire, his huge head between his two, bin lid sized paws.