Snowfall Between

Prologue

I ran through the forest, stirring up powder in my wake. Birch trees sped by on all sides as I ran, their stripes blurred by my speed. My paws were cold, but the ice chilling my veins only drove me onward. I heard Blaise plowing through the snow behind me, gaining hard and fast on my tail. I flew forwards, picking up as much speed as my over sized paws could muster. Of course it was probably bad idea number six thousand and seventy five because I didn't notice that the terrain had a sudden downwards decline that I just was too focused to notice. My front paws buckled under me as gravity pulled me down the hill. I swallowed a mouthful of snow as I rolled down the hill, when suddenly I felt Blaise's weight on my back as he pounced.

As if my situation could get any worse.

Blaise wrapped his paws around my middle as he playfully bit my scruff. Why did he always have to win? I vocalized my frustration as I twisted around mid fall and swatted at his side with my front paws. As we rolled down the hill, he and I grappled as if this were a battle of life and death.

Soon the hill came to level itself out and we ended up with Blaise on top, gazing into my eyes and panting heavily.

"Shove off!" I playfully growled, kicking his belly with my hind paws and pulling myself to my feet. I shook the snow from my white fur and glared at him for a second before we both burst out laughing.

"Let's do that again!" I exclaimed.

"Race you to the top of the hill!" Blaise replied, speeding off ahead of me.

I bolted forwards, nearly tripping over my paws with every step as I had barely grown into them. The deep snow came up to my chest, making it harder to race, but I was ready for the challenge. Blaise seemed to wade through the snow like a fish beneath the ice, and I couldn't help being jealous that he was a week older than I was.

When we made it to the top, Blaise looked at me and said, "Ready?"

I nodded, before tackling him into half a hug and half a choke hold, causing our forward momentum to push us down the hill. When we reached the bottom, I felt the fading. I felt a tear slip from my eye as I whispered, "It's happening again. I have to go."

Blaise gave me a knowing sigh, before he looked at me with a solemn face.

"Azora?" He asked

"Yeah?"

"Will you promise that even if we don't see each other for a long time, that when you come back, you'll still be my friend?" Blaise said.

"I promise! And I won't just be your friend, I'll be your best friend. Forever." I replied, walking up to him and giving him a soft lick on his forehead before pulling him into a warm embrace. The fading happened too fast, and I barely felt his warm fur pressing against my own as the cold wave passed over my body. The fading was nothing like the cold of the snow, as it was unfeeling and unkind. It tore me from my dreams and stole all the sights and sounds and feelings of the winter forest. It was as if every time the fading came upon me, I died and woke up in a different life.

As my senses were returned to me, smells were duller and I no longer had the extra balance of whiskers and a tail. Everything was different. I had to cover myself in furs to warm my barren hide. As I got to my feet, it was like learning to walk on two legs all over again.

I squinted my eyes to the brightness of the firelight, and I sighed. The fire was just as bright and alive as Blaise's orange fur, and the shadows dancing on the walls reminded me of his stripes. I drew closer to its warmth, wishing I had my best friend here by my side. I wished that he was real.

Even at seven years old, I had known that girls who dreamed of tigers were frowned upon. When I painted tigers on the walls, the elders would shrink back at their ferocity. To them, tigers were the demons of the night that stole their food and hunted men. Our tribe's survival and culture revolved around the slaughtering of tigers, and the ceremony of initiation required one to slay a tiger and turn its skin into their clothes. You could not wear a tiger unless you had killed it yourself. You also could not be considered one of the tribe if you did not wear a tiger, and this was the way of our people.

I was young. I was innocent. I had never seen a real tiger before, and yet they called to me in my dreams. I was the tiger in my dreams. At the time, I never understood why tigers should be feared. And so I longed for the night and I longed for sleep, and as I dreamed I lived another life.

I heard the entrance stone move before I smelled the blood. I looked up from the fire to see my eldest cousin Nekoda dragging a large tiger into the cave. As she cut its flesh to remove its skin, I could tell somehow that the tiger was a female, not much older than nineteen year old Nekoda herself in the terms of tiger aging. My uncle, Nekoda's father, looked at her through proud eyes. I decided I didn't have the stomach to watch. Why couldn't it have been an elk or a rabbit, I wondered.

I felt a pang in my heart as I climbed into the rock alcove us children were meant to sleep in and I lay down on the deerskin blankets. I closed my eyes, feeling the tears flow and knowing that this wasn't right. Somehow I wanted to stop the bloodshed, but what could one small girl do against a tribe of a hundred warriors?