Winter Wolf

5. Confusion

What have I done?...

In my hand was the bow I stole from one of the hunters. At my feet was the sticky blood mixed with snow. The bodies of the two men lay lifeless. My beloved older brother walked in on the mess I made.

"Nyx. What did you do?..." Arlo questioned, not daring to take a single step closer.

"I...I..snapped," I replied. Using this meager excuse that would never work with anyone.

"That's no excuse Nyx! You can't just...kill...people. No matter what happens. Do you have any idea how much trouble you are in? Not only with me but also with the soldiers!"

"Arlo I'm sorry. I saw the wolf and I snapped."

"You can't go ballistic and rage crazy just because people hunt Nyx! It happens! You realize we use the animals in clothes right? In food?"

"This wolf is different Arlo! It spared my life! I owed it! I had to do something!"

"Spared your life?..."

"Well..." I forgot. I never told him of the wolf. It was my secret, mine only...

"Well what Nyx? You better tell me now."

I sighed then explained the story. "The day I found the cave. After we split up I found that cave. But when I got close that wolf pinned me to the ground. I thought that I was dead. It let me go. It spared me. I owed it. Now it's dead."

"Why didn't you tell me?.."

"I would have just worried you. It doesn't matter anyway." I started walking back to the cave. Arlo was glued to his place, too shocked to stop me. Too shocked to worry.

Hunting. Hunting would get my mind off of what happened. When you hunt all you can think of is the goal of success. No time to think of anything else. We needed the food anyway unless we wanted to lay down and die. A slight movement caught my eye. A buck. I kneeled down in the snow, grabbed an arrow, raised my bow, and then shot. It was the fourth thing that died that day. First and second was the death of the hunters. Fourth was the death of the deer. What was third you might ask? Third was the death of my old self, and there on was the birth of a different me.

I was first back to the cave. I suspect Arlo needs time adjusting to what I did. I can't blame him. Out of all the mistakes I've made, this is the utmost worst. I'm scared. I should feel more remorse that this. I should care more about what I've become. A killer. I have become a killer. A cold hearted killer.

I left behind the men. I left behind the wolf. I left behind the musket. I left behind my brother. But never could I leave behind the handprint of blood on the snow. The handprint of a man who was trying to escape my wrath.