Winter Wonderland

Sugar and Spice

Naiche

English had not been his first language, of course. It had been the fourth or fifth dialect that he had learned, in all actuality. But it had been the first language that he had learned to read in. A friend from long ago had taught him how to read and then introduced him to books. As he had learned a couple hundred years into his lifespan, even at his peak of reading, he was slower than most other people.

Now, after decades, if not over a century of not reading, Naiche found himself struggling through the books at a snail's pace. He rarely sat still for as long as he did that first day with the books he had borrowed. And he battled with frustration as he stumbled over words that he had not seen in a long while, sounding them out loud. Several times he put the book down and paced away, telling himself that he would not continue the madness.

And every single time he found himself sitting back down and reading once more. He was about halfway through the first book the next morning when he heard the racket of a snow machine roaring up the road. After stalking through the woods to watch Citali pass by, clearing the road to the dead end and back the first time, he returned to his cabin and force himself to continue reading.

Not that he couldn't hear her passing a couple more times, but he continued reading until even the sound of her shovelling faded away and night fell once more. The book was fascinating and surprisingly honest, though there were some inaccuracies that he could only attribute to the passage of time. He finished it and immediately started on the second one, which was a similarly titled book, but from the point of view of women.

By the next morning Naiche stood and cracked his neck, putting down the half finished second book. Despite still having no desire to feed on another animal, he forced himself out into the woods to hunt. With a human so close, he wouldn't dare chance losing control to the hunger. The forest had protected most of the ground from the deeper snow, though he trekked through it silently, listening to life fluttering around him.

Naiche pushed himself deeper into the woods, ignoring the tracks of several animals that would have made sufficient prey. It grew colder through the night and next couple days as he wandered, fighting with his body's lack of desire to feed until the hunger was a dull ache. Only when he couldn't stand it anymore, did the predator in him finally take control and he stalked and brought down a stag.

Even then, Naiche had to force himself to choke down the offering he had received from the animal, tears in his eyes as he refused to accept anything but complete satiation. Once finished, he ensured nearby predators could easily find the carcass and resumed his wandering, slowly making his way back toward his home.

Naiche had been alone for a long time. He had lived with an empty numbness for centuries, existing only because he was incapable of letting himself be killed. Now, stumbling through the forest, he found himself absolutely miserable. The taste of deer blood was in the back of his throat and threatened to make him gag, tears from the struggle still blurred his vision. He wandered aimlessly for longer than he'd care to admit, finally making it to the lake his home was on and diving below the icy surface

The frigid temperature of the water shocked him back into himself even as he cleaned the remnants of blood from his skin before returning to his cabin. Halfway up the bank of the lake, he smelled her.

She had come to his cabin a couple times, most recently several hours before. Naiche glanced up at the sky, frowning when he realized that it was late afternoon. She had wandered back and forth enough times that there was a trampled down path that led from the forest up to his door. The first thing he noticed was that the path from his driveway to the door had been shovelled clear.