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Frost and Flame

by Cody Harrison

_ This story is about Anthropomorphic Wolves, animals with human characteristics. _

A Frost-colored wolf dressed in brown tribal loincloth from the waist down strolled across the green plains of the valley. On his shoulder, he carried a pole with fresh fish tied neatly with white silk. Winterstorm was this hunter's name. His home was a camp with other wolves, surrounded by the plains. Everyone in the tribe was like family to him; he knew each and every one of the wolves.

A quiet river ran around the north and south sides of the camp, with a deep blue lake to the west that connected them. The glistening lake provided great amounts of food for the wolves, without them having to travel far from home. His fur ruffled in the wind as he walked across a small wooden bridge, slowly, admiring his homeland. The green grass always brought happiness to Winterstorm.

Upon approaching the wooden fort gate, he was acknowledged by Boulder, one of the camp lookouts on duty. The lookout nodded swiftly at Winterstorm as he passed by. The camp was busy with activity tonight. The time was close to Dinner, when the tribe as a whole would gather near the campfire to talk about the day, tell stories, and to eat.

Winterstorm made his way across the camp to the campfire, and set the heavy pole with fish over it. Bluehawk, one of the leaders, was standing nearby overseeing the camp.

"Well done, Winterstorm," the leader greeted him with pride as he saw the fish dinner. "The clan and I are very grateful to have you, for you skills, and for your great personality. Thank you."

"You're welcome Bluehawk," Winterstorm bowed his head quickly, "but my brother taught me everything", Winterstorm explained.

"Your brother is a great hunter, I'm glad he's been passing his knowledge on to you. Don't worry," Bluehawk placed his hand on Winterstorm's shoulder, "I know you'll be an expert hunter like him soon," the senior leader praised. "Go on about your business, I'll see that the food is prepared."

Being dismissed, Winterstorm decided to climb up to his favorite hill outside of camp to sit and rest on. The sun was setting, and created a lovely pinkish orange color in the sky, one of Winterstorm's most beloved sights. Winterstorm laid on his back, arms behind his head, his chest basking in what was left of the sun. He slowly managed to drift off into sleep. Everything was dark; then an image started unhurriedly fading in.

He was curled up with his mother, one night, within the safety of the teepee. Listening to the river rushing, breeze blowing, and crickets chirping. The night was undisturbed. On the hill overlooking the camp, yellow electrifying eyes pierced the darkness. Another pair, and another followed this pair of yellow eyes. The dark figures were unmoving upon the hill, hidden well by the fog while surveying the camp. After surveying, they all looked up at their party leader. The leader, a very strong and big figure hidden by the shadows, turned to face his followers. He snarled in his evil smile, acknowledging the followers.

"Go," said he. With the command, the followers quickly scampered past the party leader, down towards the camp. Quickly and quietly, these figures moved closer and closer each second.

The night was only quiet for a few more moments. A rustle outside made Winterstorm awake. Curious, he got up from his mother's protection, and took slow, small steps towards the teepee opening. He poked his head outside, and peered around the camp, first looking left, and then right. He didn't see anything. Winterstorm was about ready to go back when a huge yellow bolt flew across the camp. He stood there, wondering what the bright yellow thing was. Wolves started coming out of their teepees with Bows and Arrows, yelling to each other and moving towards one of the gate opening.

The camp turned noisy with within an instant. More yellow bolts started to fly around, the wolves of the camp returning the fire with bows and arrows. Winterstorm found himself being scooped up by his mother's arms. He was too young to understand what his parents said to each other before they left their teepee. He noticed his brother, Brownclaw, being picked up also by their father too. The parents of the two young pups took them outside, moving fast. It was very noisy in the clearing, chaos everywhere. He watched the stars and his mother's somewhat worried looking face as they moved fast. This went on for a few minutes, when finally Winterstorm heard Water. He managed to look around, and saw a few wolves in boats. He became alarmed as he was handed to one of the wolves aboard the boat. His brother was handed off also. Winterstorm was puzzled the whole time. His parents watched the two pups as the boat started rowing away, the pups also watching their parents. Behind the parents the camp glowed with the orange. Winterstorms parents only continued watching their children row away with the trusted tribe wolves, before they grabbed each other's hand and ran off into the darkness.

Winterstorm awoke and sat up with a shock, breathing heavily before returning to reality. He felt the grass on his fur, finally realizing that he wasn't in that nightmare. This dream always haunted him, as it was what had happened years ago. Questions were not answered, and he needed answers.

The sun was gone, and the moon shined on Winterstorm and the Valley below, causing Winterstorm's fur and grass to glow in the night. The smell of fish hugged Winterstorms' nose. He got up and walked slowly down the grassy hill, headed for the campfire. Winterstorm came upon the cook there.

"Greetings, Winterstorm. Great to see you!" greeted Sunclaw, the cook. "Feel free to take what you like," he said, briefly pointing his nose to the cooked fish hanging over the blazing fire.

"Thanks Sunclaw."

Winterstorm picked up a basket that sat nearby, and he picked out two Covina's, for him and his brother. He then made his way to his teepee. When he arrived, his brother was resting on the bed.

Brownclaw acknowledged Winterstorm's entry without having to open an eye. He could smell him.

"Evening, younger brother," he welcomed, resting with his arms behind his head, eyes closed. Winterstorm gave him an affectionate look, still the same happy and lazy brother.

"Well come on," Winterstorm urged his brother, "It's time to eat."

Brownclaw sat up on the bed, and then shortly, stood up, and made eye contact with his younger sibling.

"Alright, let's head out. Everyone probably misses us," Brownclaw stated in a playful mood. He put his arm around Winterstorm's shoulder as they both exited their teepee.

At the campfire, logs encircled the fire to sit on. In one section, Bluehawk, the Senior Leader, and Bloodfang, the Deputy, were both sitting next to each other. Winterstorm sat, along with his brother. Brownclaw had no hesitation with the fish his younger brother brought. He opened the basket and started loudly munching on one of the fish. Many conversations were going on, but Winterstorm noticed that Bluehawk and Bloodfang were having an important conversation, judging by their facial expressions. He aimed his ears towards the leaders, eager to hear what they were saying.

"The more guards on the outside of the camp walls, the better," Bloodfang stated. "We can make sure nothing comes from the outside."

"Bloodfang, we need just as many guards in camp than outside of the camp. I want to keep it balanced," the leader replied.

Bloodfang eyed Bluehawk, Winterstorm noticing a bit a fire in Bloodfang's Amber eyes.

"Yes, Bluehawk," the dark-fur deputy finally said in defeat. He stared at the leader for a moment more, before turning back to the fire.

Still looking over at Bloodfang, Winterstorm turned his head slightly towards his brother, "He's been much grumpier lately then a few days ago."

"So I've seen. Wonder what ruffled his fur this time," Brownclaw said out loud as he took another bite of the fish Winterstorm brought.

"Settle down, now," Bluehawk spoke over everyone. "Tomorrow will be a free night, you're not required to be at the campfire, but you're always welcome," he said with a smile. "Bloodfang would you like to say anything before dismissal?"

With his eyes locked on the fire, Bloodfang replied "No." He then got up on his paws and started for The Leader's Tent.

Bluehawk mumbled something under his breath. "Very well then," he said aloud, "off you go everyone."

Brownclaw, being a very noisy and sloppy eater, finally finished his meal. He wiped his mouth with his arm and turned to Winterstorm. "I'm going to head down to the lake to wash; I'll be back at the teepee in a little bit."