new day | ✔

iii

River staggered towards the sound of the whispering brook, catching her shattered breath and collapsing onto the forest ground. Fir needles and sedge dug into her merger chest, her limber legs sprawled out before her, the brisk water rushing past her sooty paws.

The bear had given up the search, perhaps to find another victim. It's heavy footsteps had faded away into the abyss that lied behind her.

After lying there for a few, brief moments, listening to the sound of trickling water and her steady breathing, River decided that it was time to move on.

Slowly, she raised herself back into her legs and started heading towards the outer perimeter of her pack's old territory. This part of Alaska was no longer her's to call home, and the easiest thing for the Denali wolves to accomplish was to kill her on sight.

After hours of trudging through almost pitch-black darkness, River had finally managed to reach the edge of the sector. The thick, musky acidic scent of a an alpha's urine signified the end of this territory.

But she wasn't anything close to safe.

The Denali had been the least of her worries, because now, with nowhere to go and nothing to eat, the young wolf wasn't any better off.

* * *

For the next few days of sempiternal darkness, River found each and every turn towards meat a failure. She had never hunted on her own before, her pack didn't really bother teaching her. Yet with her strong instinct to survive, River had no choice but to at least try.

Her meager chest spanned the terrain as she prowled up to a small herd of unsuspecting deer, but she didn't get any closer then a few metres before one bounded off in alarm - it's thin legs prancing further into black. Squirrels scurried up the callous barks of the trees at the single sight of the alabaster wolf.

But today was different.

A light, stinging cold gust of wind traveled through the area, clouding her mind with the metallic scent of blood. Her pale eyes strained for the slightest bit of light and her nose quivered with inquisitive interest. As quietly as she could, River sulked towards the source, her dainty paws leaving small imprints in the quilt of snow.

She grovelled the ground, her ears perked attentively and her tail bristled in concentration. And as the strong pheromone of blood once again entered her nostrils, she lunged.

River landed right onto a bush of shrub, and dove her head into the plant. There lay a rat; mousey brown hair tinted with blood, and disembowelled. At once, she snatched the dying victim and began to chew its head blissfully. Small crunches and cracks emitted from her jaws as she crushed it's skull and bones with her alabaster ornaments.