Beyond The Mountains

Chapter One: Winter (Part One)

Trace looked out over the wind-swept tundra. The cold wind blew through the small wolf's dark grey fur and stung his eyes. The brown, dead stems of short grasses and flowers danced around in the turbulent air, and a thin layer of snow covered the rough landscape. The midafternoon sun crept slowly down towards the horizon. The days were growing shorter now, and the sun skimmed the tops of the mountains to the south, stretching their shadows out over the wasteland.

Trace sucked in a slow breath, savoring the brisk air. This was one of his favorite locations to wait for his father to return. Perched on this spot, Trace could see for miles in every direction over the desolate terrain. Some twenty paces upwind of him, a family of marmots had dug their holes. Trace knew he probably would not see any of the small mammals this late in the season.

He was wrong. Just then, a small yellowish-brown marmot popped its head above the ground, surveying the tundra. Trace picked up its movement almost immediately. His father had taught him, from the time he was a pup, to be alert and prepared for anything; the life of the Village depended on this. Trace had learned his lessons well. His loaded bow rested on his lap, ready to fire. Slowly, he raised it up in front of him, drawing the string back to his muzzle. He took aim, holding his breath and counting his heart beats. The arrow sailed through the air effortlessly. Trace's form was perfect, but his aim was off. The arrow missed the small animal by no more than a centimeter, striking a rock and bouncing erratically back into the air. With a flash of brown, the marmot quickly ducked below the ground.

Trace let out the breath he had been holding, and got to his feet.

I had better get the arrow back, he thought.

Mother Okami, the mate of the Alpha and Trace's mother, had been obsessed with resource conservation recently. In another week or so, something else would happen and Okami would become obsessed with some other trivial matter. For now, however, the word was "Waste naught, want naught".

After a brief search, Trace found the arrow and picked it up, placing it back in his quiver. He paused on the way back to look into the marmot hole, but saw nothing but dirt, rocks, and darkness. He sighed in disappointment and began the long walk back to the Village.

The cluster of worn-down shelters that made up the wolf settlement were known simply as "the Village" to its residents. The lack of wood compelled them to construct the twenty buildings out of a combination of rock, dirt, animal bones, and skins. These structures had been built several decades ago, just after The Great War with the foxes. Since then little had changed. Every month or so during the warmer seasons, the Alpha lead a team of hunters to bring back meat and other provisions. No one in the Village wanted to talk about it, but recently the teams had been away longer and had returned with less. The adults tried to hide it, but the fear of want hung in the air. The current trip had already lasted later in the year than any previous expedition.

Trace hung his head as he plodded over the rough terrain, heading towards the small collection of shelters in the distance. Since fuel was scarce on the tundra, the buildings had all been painstakingly dug into the ground to help keep them warm on the inside. The roofs extended upwards less than a meter from the surrounding ground. The odd passerby might not even realize the Village was there if they didn't already know where to look for it.

Trace walked down the narrow path through the center of the Village. A couple of the mother wolves were outside, tidying up the fronts of their houses and sweeping the snow from the path. They smiled and moved to the side as Trace passed by. He entered his family's home at the Village's center, the largest of all the shelters. Mother Okami was home, sitting cross-legged on the floor, stitching a heavy coat out of a bear hide. Trace's younger brother, Max, sat at the table, using his flint knife to carve something into a block of wood.