Dark Snow

Chapter 2: The Plan

Lucas stirred from his sleep; the unnerving sensation of eyes boring into his back gnawing at him. Somehow, his mind must have known; the human psyche was powerful in that way. Groggily, his eyes fluttered open. Despite the cold, he felt sweat clinging to his skin beneath the tunic. He withdrew his hand from under the pillow and turned onto his back, staring up into the darkness. The ceiling above looked like a void, and the entire room felt swallowed in black.

Only a single shard of moonlight broke through, casting a dim beam across the window. Dust clung to the glass, creating shadows that turned the floor below a faint, silvery white. Outside, the wind rattled the house, its relentless moan sounding like distant, insistent banging. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he began to make out the shapes around him, though his vision was still hazy and dotted.

Then, out of the corner of his eye—how these things always seem to be—he noticed it: a pair of eyes. They were almost honey-colored, or a smooth amber, reflecting the moonlight in two white glints. At first, it seemed like two specks of light, but as his vision fully sharpened, he could see what it was.

A creature, covered in thick fur, crouched beneath the table, watching him intently. It was very much awake and aware of his presence, just as he was of it.

A shiver crawled up his spine, prickling the nape of his neck as his body registered the steady, unblinking gaze fixed on him. The creature moved a limb forward — not a hand, but a large paw tipped with long claws, their edges worn, perhaps from traversing harsh terrain. It crept slowly, inch by inch, until Lucas's eyes widened with realization. What he had first thought to be a supernatural apparition was, in truth, something equally terrifying, though bound to natural law.

A wolf — or at least what appeared to be one — was stalking toward him, low and silent, like a panther ready to pounce. How it had managed into John's home was one mystery, but an even greater mystery was how it got into his room. The door had been closed. Right?

Lucas sat up, pressing his back against the cold, wooden wall. The wolf came into clearer view now — short, gray fur covering its body, a black nose speckled with pink along its snout. At his movements, it let out a low growl. Fuck—fuck! he thought, reaching instinctively for his dagger.

But before he could grip it, the wolf lunged, pinning him to the mattress. "Fuck!" he shouted, thrusting his arm against its warm, fur-covered neck to hold it back. The animal's claws dug into his skin, and it kicked at him, jaws snapping viciously. "John—!" he yelled, struggling as the wolf slipped from his grip. "Mia!"

The creature bit down on his forearm and...nothing. Except a faint prick, like a playful nip. The wolf shook its head back and forth as if trying to entice more playing.

"What... what the fuck?" he breathed, staring at the creature in disbelief. What kind of wolf bites without breaking skin? or Maybe he was hallucinating — wouldn't be the first time, yet as the door swung open with John standing in the threshold, candle in hand, the wolf did not disappear.

"Grayson, get down." John commanded with a firm tone. The wolf — or perhaps dog — turned its head toward him, then complied with a faint whine, dropping to the floor with a soft click of claws.

"What..." Lucas's breathing slowed as his chest began to calm, "...the fuck?" he repeated, still in shock.

Mia soon appeared behind John, dressed in no more than a simple white undergarment, her hair slightly mussed. John, on the other hand, was still in his blacksmith's vest, looking like he hadn't slept at all.

John grunted as he placed his candle on the table, then knelt, running a hand over the animal's face. "Looks like you've met Grayson—"

"Goodnight," Mia murmured quietly, cutting in before turning and disappearing down the hallway.

John chuckled wearily. "Guess I forgot to mention him. Hope he didn't scare you too much."

"No, no..." Lucas sighed, still catching his breath. "I only... nearly shit my pants," he joked, then caught himself. "Sorry—I didn't mean..."

But John burst out laughing. "Good wit, son."

"It was, uh..." Lucas trailed off awkwardly. "A bad joke."

John nodded amusingly, "That it was." He pointed toward the door, and Grayson obediently padded out. "Well, hopefully you'll still manage some sleep after that adrenaline rush..."

"Yeah," Lucas replied, "though I'm a light sleeper, so..."

Mia's father leaned against the doorframe, offering a sympathetic smile. "Good luck, then." He closed the door softly behind him, leaving Lucas alone in the room once more.

Mouth still half-open in shock, Lucas eased himself back into a lying position, sighing as he stared into the darkness. He wasn't sure if his body would fully relax again, but as the minutes ticked by, his tense muscles began to loosen, finally drawing him back into the depths of sleep.

Mia, on the other hand, was a different story that night. Taking advantage of the commotion, she slipped quietly out of the house, quickly pulling on her jacket and boots. Once she was awake, she rarely returned to sleep — though, granted, it was hard to wake her in the first place unless someone screamed, as Lucas had.

With a final glance back at her home, Mia moved forward. The path was no longer clear of sleet, and each step ached with the familiar bite of fresh snowfall. The cold whipped at her like a blanket of needles, but she pressed on, pausing only for brief moments to catch her breath, until she'd finally crossed beyond the town's modest walls.

For a moment, her thoughts drifted to Lucas. This strange man's presence lingered in her mind, circling in quiet intrigue. Maybe — just maybe — he could be her ticket out of Blueriver, into a life beyond monotony. Perhaps he could fill that steady stream of boredom, like water dripping from a leaky faucet, that she could never quite escape. There was something in the way he carried himself—guarded, like a door half-closed

She sighed as she reached the edge of the woods. Each year, the tree line was pushed further back, with townsmen cutting deeper into the forest, but as Mia knew, nature always found a way to prevail. She took a few more paces before stopping at a small, frozen stream. Finding a spot beneath a tree where the snow hadn't covered the dry ground, she settled down and watched a small pocket of water that had resisted the freeze, trickling forward like a tiny waterfall.

So, Mia had made up her mind. Tomorrow, before he left, she would try to convince Lucas to take her along — perhaps to her uncle in Ellgrick's capital, or, if not, then to help him find his brother. The thought of her father being left alone barely crossed her mind. And as the cold deepened around her, along with the first faint rays of early sunlight, Mia closed her eyes.