As I walked through the snow, growling caught my attention. From atop a crumbling old wall, a large, white wolf was watching me and he didn't look pleased with my presence.
Wasteland wolves aren't much like their extinct cousins. For a start, they're much bigger with a face that resembles a bear. They haven't lost any of their intelligence though and even my armour wouldn't withstand a focused assault for long.
I backed away and skirted around the massive creature, mentally crossing my fingers, hoping it would go away. It continued to stare at me, eyes locked on to my with its mouth curled upwards in a snarl.
I slowly began to reach for my rifle when suddenly, it turned and walked away. Either I had been too close to its food or too close to its young. The lack of blood on its maw led me to think that the latter was more likely.
I continued up a hill in order to get my bearings and hopefully spot somewhere sheltered to rest since a storm was beginning to blow in.
At the top, I saw something that left me stunned. A pack of roughly thirty wolves with several litters of cubs. The last wolf I encountered must have been alone with his cubs as I couldn't imagine another pack living so close to the largest pack I'd ever seen.
The downside to this sight though was that the only shelter nearby was the six mounds of snow the wolves were using as dens.
I walked around the dens, stopping frequently to look around and hoped the wolves were getting used to my smell. It felt like a great honour to be around this many wolves and their cubs without being torn apart to feed them. At one point a large male walked towards me but didn't stop for a proper look. I still lowered my head on the way past though.
I kept walking around, growing more relaxed since none of the wolves had reacted badly to my presence, though now I intended to test their tolerance further and see if one would let me take shelter by a mound.
I approached the closest mound, a den with four cubs but a growl from their mother made me quickly back away. I was met with the same reaction at three others dens until I came to one with six cubs huddled close to each other while their thin mother seemed to be making a small wall of snow at the front of her den.
I approached with my head lowered and my heart leapt when she only acknowledged me with a glance before returning to her work. At that point I decided that helping her would be the best way to gain her trust.
I scooped up a big handful of snow, setting it on top of her wall and smoothing it out before looking over at the mother who was staring back, her head slightly tilted. Encouraged by her curiosity, I did it again several more times until she was satisfied that I wasn't a threat and went back to work.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the wolf uncover a small leather pouch as she rolled another ball of snow to the wall. I quickly grabbed it, fumbling with the button before revealing a small lighter. Upon further inspection, there was gas in it and I knew I had a working flint in my pocket if this one didn't work.
Smiling, I went back to work and soon enough the two of us had managed to build a wall higher than the cubs. The mother stepped over the wall, flicking her tail at me before laying alongside the cubs and leaving a rather large space free. A space large enough for a man.
Hoping I didn't misread the intentions of the old wolf, I climbed slowly in and lay down beside her. To my surprise she wagged her tail a few times before draping it over my feet. I hadn't felt so welcomed in a long time. It felt like coming home, like I belonged here. I suppose even in this cold and desolate place, small pieces of warmth and happiness can be found.
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Encounters
Science FictionEncounters within an snow filled wasteland. Can anyone survive such a place?