Odin's Prize

Heat (Part One)

Shrieking wind is ripping its voice through the trees leaving behind a wreckage of branches to trip and fall over as if nature is trying to stop my progress forward. On occasion, the Moon's almost full body peeks out from behind the bulky black clouds to shine a light on my path forward.

Alone in the darkened night, only the storm is here to keep me company, all other life hiding away secure in burrows to scared to come out and play in nature's fury. Flashes of lightning racing across the sky, a massive explosion of thunder creates a vibration in the atmosphere that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

Propelled by a basic ingrained instinct of my nature, fighting against the storm with teeth and claw gaining inches towards the Far North Territory. The river's rushing water getting closer is overpowering the noise of the deluge of rain being dumped from the swollen dark grey clouds from above.

The river that's usually so calm is a raging churning propulsion of water that has overrun its banks in currents of danger.

Not allowing myself to get too close the edge, having to weave my path over fallen logs, through brush and bramble to cut a path forward. My body is taking nature's harshness against it; cut's lining my arms where the material of my shirt is slowly being torn away by snagging on branches that are too strong to snap with my momentum catapulting me forward.

It's a grueling slowing pace towards the Far North Territory. Nothing is easy; it's a tangle of nature I have to push myself through until when I step there is no soggy mud to cradle my step, just a steep decline where I slide down the small hill into the tumbling current.

Instantly swept away in the undertow, half submerged gasping for air as my head breaks through the waterline, only to be sucked back down to come back up to cough out water to be pulled again back down. Desperation is clinging to my soul that this is not how I want to end my time in this world. The moon is breaking through the skyline as if she's watching this with cunning eyes.

A log tossing upwards in the white tipped waves catches my eyes, nature fighting me forward but is offering me a lifeline, so drowning will not be an option. Wrapping my body around it, trying to hold on to the slippery surface with my resolve to live. It's the wildest ride in the dark down the snaking body of the river; I'm no match for this kind of nature.

There's no fighting against the body of the flood water; it will take me where it wills. Through the night the fight of life is real every time the log starts to slip from my weakening grasp, the September water is cool against my heated up body.

It's as if I'm driftwood going the way the current flows, during the night the storm relents it's pent up energy to calm itself down into just a drizzling rain until no rain at all. The night starts to come back to life; the river doesn't settle itself down. The violence is accelerating my rate forward as if the water is controlled by the Moon herself and I'm riding the tides closer to Odin.

The fibers of my arms are shaking with exertion from holding on to the log that has saved me from drowning. Taking an opportunity when the light of morning starts muscling its way into the darkened sky. With effort it's a battle towards the shoreline, swallowing water once again while kicking with the might of a wolf not wanting to sink into a watery tomb.

Catching an outstretched branch pulling myself up and out of the water to climb upwards in the tree top, the light of morning now strong enough I need to squint against it. Having a rest, allowing the cramped muscles some time to relax from the work they just went through.

There is no overwhelming fatigue that consumes the depth of me. Instead, there is a driving force of compulsion to move forward into territory that is unknown to me.