The North Pack (editing)

3 - The Journey (edited)

It was silent for a while as we walked. Even the other Northern wolves were quiet and I wasn't convinced Jax hadn't pack linked them to stay that way. It was maybe 10 minutes into the journey when he caught up with me, soundlessly walking alongside me. I wanted to hit him. Instead, I started to drift from him, careful to maintain a calculated distance from him.

      "I wasn't even doing anything," he finally said as I put more distance between our bodies. I ignored him, moving even further away. In the corner of my eye, I caught him reaching out to me - probably in an attempt to stop me - but I whipped my hand away with such speed that he was left grabbing air.

      "You've done enough." My voice was flat, monotonous, like it hadn't come from my own throat. He didn't try to speak to me again, it seemed he was at least smart enough to recognise the futility of his attempts.

      The walking was a welcome distraction and strangely therapeutic. It was a welcome departure from my thoughts, which flitted from my dad to my mother's place in North Pack to my unstable future. I couldn't let myself think of Callum.

      As the minutes became hours, I found myself taking note of the scenery around us. I had never been out this far north, I never ventured this deep through the forest. Tall pine trees stood stoically in clusters, with unruly grass at their feet, weaving between their spindly roots. There were no flowers. The only sound was that unending wind and the soft thunder of shuffling feet on the forest floor.

      It began to get noticeably colder.

      The first sign was my crystalline breath, then my body shaking, then came the numbness. My oversized hoodie and leggings did little to shelter my skin from the freezing wind and every exposed surface of my body stung. I had heard of winters in the North, it was a cautionary tale for when we complained of the cold as pups back in West Pack. I could understand it now. It felt like my very soul was being gripped by the chilling hand of winter and it was all I could do just to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

      As we walked further, we found snow. It was not my first time seeing it, it was not uncommon at home but this was different; far from the dirty, yellowish mush we had called snow in West Pack, this was untouched and shimmered in the sunlight. It felt like a shame to step on it.

      The novelty wore off at about the same moment as I realised my socks were wet. My jaw ached from chattering teeth and the numbness that had protected me thus far finally wore off, replaced by the sensation of burning. My mind was too scattered to even try to think of anything but pushing through, walking on, making it - wherever 'it' ended up being.

      It started to snow. And then the incline increased. Soon, the sun began to set and the visibility went from bad to worse, only serving to make me almost faceplant in the snow more often. I started to wonder if I would die before I stepped foot in North Pack and ignored the feeling of sick satisfaction the thought afforded me.

      "Would you please just take my jacket?" Jax tried for the umpteenth time. It had been an argument we'd been having for the last few hours - or at least an argument he'd been having, I'd only ever dignified him with the shake of my head, mostly because I didn't trust my frozen lips to form words anymore. My stubbornness would keep me warm... or it would kill me.

      From my peripherals, a sighing Jax pulled something from his deep coat pockets: a pair of fur mittens and a knitted scarf. Without a sound, he took my hands in his surprisingly warm ones and pulled the mittens onto my bright red hands, before wrapping the scarf around my neck. I didn't protest and I didn't thank him; exhaustion prevented me from either. It took a while for the benefit of them to kick in, but I felt reluctantly grateful for them when it did.