Your Trail of Blood in the Snow

Chapter 9 (Lucas)

The storm lashed the forest with disturbing inclemency. There had never seen one of such magnitude for many years. Jordan, a gray wolf of small size, wild and with a serious demeanour, was struggling in the wind with the cloth poncho he was wearing. On his back he carried a bundle of firewood that he would take to where he had been living for a long time. He lived alone, sheltered by the good Lord, and abandoned by his own family. He survived and clung to life by tooth and nail, and now he was here, in the middle of a storm and being dragged by the blizzard.

He was not afraid; rather he enjoyed dueling with the icy gales that broke branches, knocked down trees and dragged objects or animals smaller than him. Facing them was a way of knowing he was alive, a way of shouting to his absent family "Look, you sons of bitches! I'm still alive! Alive and kicking for your misfortune!" He always stocked up on firewood in a place that was far away because he said that there was a resinous wood there that was able to burn and keep the fire alive for several hours without wearing out.

That particular afternoon he was lucky enough to have found a tree that the wind had torn up by the roots. He broke it into small pieces and threw them on himself, calculating that what he collected would yield him at least two weeks.

As he walked, far in the distance he caught sight of a faint, trembling, but unperturbed light; it came from a den at the foot of a huge, yet dead tree. Normally he avoided all contact with other animals, but if he found one that needed his help, he never refused it, even if they never thanked him for it. But he said he didn't need it, that everything is done for oneself, as if one heals oneself, and when we heal ourselves no one in his right mind would ever thank himself. It would be a crazy thing to do.

The light twinkled like a dying firefly, and gave him the idea that maybe someone was there, and maybe they needed food. He carried some and he figure he could leave a few things; or they needed firewood, and so he could leave them enough so they wouldn't freeze to death in the course of the storm.

With great effort he reached the place. It was a spacious den, enough for two wolves of his size to fit without getting in each other's way. He checked with his eyes. He saw nothing at first glance, but his ears perked up when a quiet, childish cry made him turn his gaze to his left. Very close to the fire that was about to go out he saw an almost minuscule bundle, realizing that the cry was coming from there. He immediately knew it was a baby. He lowered the bundle of firewood he was carrying behind him and went inside. First, he smelled the bundle, then he uncovered it.

"Oh, my gosh!" Jordan exclaimed. "It's a baby bat!"

He had neither the courage nor the heart to leave it there. The first thing that caught his attention was that the creature had a true white color, the other thing was that it had not been many hours since it was born, for it had a little cord hanging from its belly with which it used to cling to its mother; its eyes were closed. Jordan wondered who the mother was, but he didn't care; anything could happen in the damn forest. He took the bundle very carefully, put out the fire and took off the rag he was carrying to use it as a baby carrier too big for the crying bat. He put it on his chest, and after feeling Jordan's warmth and heartbeat the little boy calmed down. He fell asleep almost immediately.

Jordan, hearing again only the silence overwhelmed by the noise of the wind, wondered, too, what that child was doing there. A newborn! But the question that was most pounding in his head was what he was going to do with him.

He tried not to think about it too much. He had a long way to go and any delay could mean life or death in those icy places where even his own being could freeze. He felt colder and colder.

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Jordan didn't know what to do with the child. The bat cried almost all the time and the wolf was already on edge, almost on the verge of crying with the baby. He tried to feed him but it was useless, for he didn't know what could be fed to the newborns of his species. He tried insects but the child rejected them, he tried to give him some poultry meat but that didn't work either. It crossed his mind that maybe giving him some blood could calm him down but he rejected it immediately remembering that he had never seen a bat drink blood.