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C hapter O ne A scend into P sychosis

The wolf's vision and what he lived for lied in his pristine environment and the echo of his calling. The lone answer that he got was from no other than the very embodiment of all his passion, love and fantasy.

The call was faint, only a well trained ear could pick up on. His intense focus was fixated on her, though something much closer jolted his attention, the vastly different volume of a scurrying rabbit startled him and made his pelt bristle in surprise.

Soon enough, disoriented trails of clustered paw prints carved the snow, marking a struggle for life. Dizzy circles and zig-zags ran amok the wolf's territory; ultimately the prints would be covered by a new canvas of snow in the not-so-distant future. But for now, a story of death was told, and it was short.

An extended heavy paw reached for the woolly rabbit. His large paw caused the small creature to loose its footing in mid-stride, tumbling end over end only to get stuck in the snow. As soon as his prey got back onto his paws, it was much too late for escape. The gaping heavy jaw had already descended and clenched its neck; piercing and crushing the spine as if it were a mere brittle branch. The cracking of multiple vertebrae and eventual spinal severing marked the end of consciousness.

An enemy had become defeated in that very moment, his greatest threat; hunger. No time was wasted as he divulged into the soft and appetizing underbelly. A mere blood-gargling last breath was heard when the wolf's pearly-whites penetrated the soft flesh, air escaping small lungs as a strong paw held the rabbit down.

With a firm violent grip he pulled. Flesh ripped, skin tore, fur split... all lubricated by the crimson-life that spilled. With a heaping muzzle-full of bloodied guts hanging from his maw, he finally saw her; face to splattered face.

"It's good to see you" He swallowed before whispering oh so softly to her. His calming warm breath tickled the delicate fine hairs that were cupped by her sensitive ear. The modest comment made her turn to him, her eyes met his; and she spoke nothing. He knew everything, as did she.

Treacherous bone decaying and paw splitting treks simmered in the back of their minds, as memories of one anothers seamlessly never-ending painful travel still kindled. But, the waiting was the hardest part.

Now that it was finally over, the agony of the past became trivial. She made the first move, surprising the male. Some may have argue that their regular rough-housing was violent, but to feral wolves it was merely lighthearted play. Though this time she cut right to the chase; there was all the time in the world after to reflect on feelings and share stories; or whatever females wanted to do.

She loved being a tease. The smaller but equally white wolf walked under his chin, leaning herself against his chest as she nuzzled her body against him. Her scent overwhelmed his senses and left him in a trance, especially when she trailed the length of her tail along the underside of his neck, only to step out in front of him and giving him quite the display.

The slender wolfess turned her head; her hooded yellow eyes flagging him over... of course her tail did a good job at that too. She took half a step forward, her hind leg slightly further than the other, showing off her features wonderfully. What stopped her from her usual chase and games was the intensity the male had dwelling inside him; as his nose was already touching her.

Her sleek frame and warm pelt was poised as it waved and rippled for him in the slight breeze. She let out a sigh as she felt his wet nose trail around the smooth and delicate outlines of her mound. She kept her tail out of the way for him as he inspected her heat.

Hot, soft, welcoming...pliable. His tongue slipped from between his lips to hers. He slowly and firmly planted his tender, wet, tongue up along her velvety vulva, dipping inside to tease her extremely sensitive clitoris. Juices flowed, mixing with the blood, saliva, and the feral musk which made the air around them hot and heavy with their mixed sex. She cried out in intense pleasure...

Zomyote: OH HAI THAR!

Ethan's concentration was completely sidelined when he received that instant message. Needless to say it startled him, and he had to take a few gasping-breaths to calm himself down. After a short while, his sudden jolt turned into a heavy sigh; disappointed and quite aggravated at the loss of concentration and ultimately his mood.

Though, he couldn't be mad at his friend, how could he have known? He groaned in disbelief though as he took his paws out from under his blankets.

The white wolf awoke from his chat-logs in a near-strangers bed, setting his laptop aside for the time being. His back ached from the unfamiliar den that the heavy blankets pushed himself into. With a weary groan, he turned himself onto his side; groggy eyes studied the pictures on the wall.

Unlike what he usually did, these pictures were neat, framed, and space nice and even; and of course lacked the amount of 'boob' than what he's used to. No, these pictures were actually framed memories. Memories that didn't belong to him.

But then again, one may study these pictures closely, formulate an idea how each day panned out. One could easily study the location, research the culture, write up fake names and dialogue; and put it all together to form new pseudo-memories to a point of being self manifested and 'true'.

It's hard to possess memories, much harder than the clutter of trivial items that crowded Tobias' room. There is no physical form nor lease nor contract.. nothing that could bind memories to his signature.

Tobias was Ethan's ex-roommate. Ethan and Tobais lived separate lives, so his disappearance was undetected for quite some time by Ethan. Though after a few days without seeing him, Ethan's curiosity piqued later to find no traces of him leaving, nor any contact could have been made by the means Ethan had available. Without his presence (and more importantly his half of the rent) it made life more difficult for the young wolf.

He had figured that Tobias was safe since he was a malamute, a species close to his own; one that was adaptive and so on. But as time progressed, his assumption of hearing him return had diminished, so Ethan figured he wouldn't mind if he used his bed, as he didn't have one of his own.

With the uncertainty of life in The North, it was better off to travel light; but sometimes it has it downfalls. The pictures of Tobias and his company became familiar to him over time. He tried not to look at them for too long, he couldn't afford to become sentimental to anything more that he had in his possession already. Instead, he rolled onto his sore back once again to stare at the low stained ceiling.

The same thing applies to the actual memories that one lived out. It's easy to lose memories through denial or just plain dementia. And after that's happened, it's hard to tell if your lifelong events even existed.

He really needed to get out of den and get ready; but his self conscious had other ideas. His paws trailed down his furred body and tended to his usual morning-stiffness, and it wasn't his back.

Zomyote: Hey, you there? I wanna hear this news you have!

Ethan heard the message alert him again and his paws stopped their usual routine. He turned over in the blankets once again to look at the screen sideways. The annoyed wolf growled under his breath as he reached for his laptop from the night-stand. Ethan retrieved it, rolled to his back... and was mindful where he set it down as he laid in bed. Last thing he needed was his laptop to teeter and fall off... again.

Zomyote: Dude, hows your writing goin? I caught wind that its makin' good progress

WeissWolf: Eh, I'm at a stand-still right now... maybe you need to come over more often to give me some green-inspiration. :P

Zomyote: *chuckles* If I could I would...next run around will be next Wednesday for sure. On a lighter note, whats this good news?

WeissWolf: Fuck, you're one persistent 'yote! I gotta shower and get spiff-'n-span for my job interview today... I'm gonna have to google how to tie a tie. Lol

Zomyote: Shit man, I couldn't do that for the longest time, I had to have my room mate do it for me for my last job interview... but that was so long ago I probably forgotten how to do it! So you're shit out of luck from me. It's about time you got a job, congrats dude.

WeissWolf: Yeah, I quit my last job already... or rather walked off the job if you want to be technical, it was decaying my insides, I needed to break free.

Zomyote: I could tell, man. You didn't get any recognition for the shit you've put up with; customers... they think they're so fucking special but in reality they're brainless mutants... you knew this... and there was nothing you could do... and it ate away at your insides... anyway, What's this new job direction?

WeissWolf: It's only a seasonal job for the length of winter, though I plan to utilize my time with it. See... it's pretty simple as is, just winter upkeep at a hotel up North. It's essentially just keeping their servers online along with light duty cleaning, organizing and shoveling snow off the roof. The hotel is old and they're planning on replacing it, but for the time being it needs to be maintained so it wont collapse from the weight of the snow. The real reason why I am excited about this job is that it'll finally grant me the solitude I need to write.

Zomyote: Eh, sounds kinda.... What's the catch? A hotel to yourself and your laptop? And just to do some shoveling and keeping servers running?

WeissWolf: Not a lot of people want to do it. As far as I was told from my first interview (via skype) people don't want to stay up there the entire winter... cabin fever. I've been alone most of my life so it wont be any different than living here. And it'll be a good break from the mundane routine of 9-5 work... though I don't know what I'll do if my writing isn't successful. I have a lot riding on this novel, and I need no distractions.

Zomyote: Cabin fever in a hotel? If it's anyone I trust to be a loner, it's you (no offense). Still, what about security? What if you do go nuts? What if the power goes out and your laptop DIES?! :P

WeissWolf: I was told there was a backup generator... it's going to be like nothings changed between us since I'll be online regardless.

Zomyote: Oh cool, so we can cam while you stab your eyes out

Zomyote: I'm just fucking with you :P So which hotel are you staying at?

WeissWolf: The Shimmer

Zomyote: The one where the conventions are held?

WeissWolf: That's the one.

Zomyote: I'm a bit concerned, though I trust your judgment. Can't be any worse than it is now. It's that change of scenery you've always wanted. And I think the weather will bode you quite well.

WeissWolf: Thanks, though my ancestors are responsible for that... I hate the city, hate taking transit... it's the same shit but different day after day.... brb gotta take my meds.

Zomyote: yeah do that, don't wanna get pregnant.

Zomyote: Public transit's not -that- bad. I mean sure it smells like cat piss... and homeless ask you for food... and littered with immature fucktards... okay maybe it is that bad.

WeissWolf: It's mainly the routine and fixed route. Having the same images replay over and over at the same time each day can drive a wolf insane. Anyway, if I get any further into the subject I'll be writing a novel about transit... and I do NOT want to do that.

Zomyote: Yeah...your body and soul doesn't fit that scene at all. I feel ya, its like a broken record player that you want to smash with a sledge hammer

Zomyote: But shit dude, it makes my ears twitch hearing you're putting all your eggs in one basket. You're gonna be your novel's bitch, hopefully she treats you better than your old job... and especially your ex.

WeissWolf: Shit, I'm gonna be late... I greally gotta get going here. I don't wanna smell bad for my interview.... just because MY sense of smell is not so good, doesn't mean my interviewer's aren't... unless he's a cat or something. X3

Zomyote: Fuckin cats.

Good in bed sometimes.

LOOK IM DISTRACTING YOU

Get going man, at least pop a mint or something.

WeissWolf: Whoa, a coyote and a cat?

Zomyote: I'll you you about it later **shoves out the door**

WeissWolf: Ack, alright! I'm outta here!

Inside Ethan's head it was never quiet, despite it being silent in his apartment. No roommates (anymore), no pets, nothing. His home was his coup. Despite being unemployed for the last few weeks, he still felt like he was in a haze. Routines are killer. Nothing seemed in motion, and his life was a repeating mp3 file. Stuck in a rut, hardly any motivation, filled with uncertainty and fear; and he most certainly was not a morning-wolf.

His apartment was rank with his neglected body odor; his musk, if you will. Surely, he thought; it would only attract gay-furs (as he so learned from the past) and it definitely would normally be enough incentive for him to clean up the place.

Though even the most simplest tasks seemed monumental. In the past couple weeks he'd become increasingly frustrated with his lack of writing material and started making excuses for his lack of output; when in reality he knew it was his own bitter-sweet procrastination. Maybe after something to eat? Maybe after a nap? Maybe after playing a video game? Maybe late at night? Maybe tomorrow? Tomorrow never comes for writing.

Ethan always imagined a more fulfilling life, but the fear of failure always crippled him. Why try when you're bound to be let down? Ethan sighed and knew that attitude wouldn't get him anywhere; but it was always easy to relay on with his lack of self esteem.

The wolf was a prisoner of his own existence, so it seemed. Sometimes he felt that he merely just breathed. Ethan had his lazy moments, but he wasn't generally lazy...he just had a bad habit of letting himself down; and that really got to him.

Zomyote: Are ya goin' or what?

An achy paw grabbed a hold of the lid of his laptop and he firmly closed it, at the same time placing his one-of-many pill bottles on the night-stand with a rattle. He sighed and sunk back into the bed. Ethan lazily stretched his legs and his hind-digits as he grabbed the remote from the heavily cluttered night-stand. Once the Telescreen warmed up, a movie trailer played and the content ticked him off enough to instantly flick off the screen and to toss the remote to the carpeted floor. Ethan knew that it wouldn't damage the remote as he has done it a few times in the past.

The bed-head wolf slipped his laptop into one of his bags along with a few other miscellaneous things. He finally threw the blankets off and stretched... standing in place as he glanced around the room; ultimately receiving a blood-rush. He sauntered over and placed the laptop-bag next to his suitcase before heading off to the bathroom one last time.

One of the perks of scoring one of the few livable (restored) human relics was the pleasure of a hot shower. Ethan stripped himself down to his bare fur and stepped in. Hot water rained, matting his fur as it also steamed around him. The fantasy of taking a special shower with a lady of his past excited the wolf. He thought it was quite kinky and different for the 'vanilla-species' he was... well, vanilla compared to the other odd hybrids that walked the land. Alas he never has such chance, nor does he have time to further speculate upon it.

Once done, and the water was off; he stepped out and dried off with a shake, and then a towel. The slender white arctic-wolf stared blankly at the equally blank fogged mirror. With a naked paw he dabbed his digits were his eyes were on the reflective glass, shining his gold lupine eyes back at him. Ethan drew a smiley face over his gloomy and apathetic expression.

He rolled his eyes at his futile attempt to amuse himself and huffed at the mirror in disgust, steaming up the mirror again, back to the blank canvas that it once was. Ethan quickly wiped the mirror in its entirety so he could actually get ready. He focused on making minor and final minute tweaks to his semi-formal appearance; all the while actually putting on clothes. Clothing, he thought, were pretty essential for something like this.

The wolf was inspecting his fine hairs in his creamy white furred ears, making sure none were out out of line all the while he speculated why there were so many wolf vilification movies. Those type of movies were crude, false and did no good for his feral ancestors. There was no real good reason for those films, just utter garbage.

Everything about his appearance had to be perfect, first impressions only come once. Corporate culture is a prejudice world, even the slightest flaw will haunt employers. This, among other things, also ticked him off. Ethan needed to keep his wits about him as he popped another pill, followed by a breath mint. "Always a pill for something.." he muttered to himself.

With a final look in the mirror, he concentrated on the irredeemable flaws in his iris and miniscule scars along his muzzle just below his eye. There wasn't much he could do about that. He then left the bathroom and stood in the middle of his apartment; going back over the memories he had while staying here; just one last time. By the time Ethan got back from his seasonal job (assuming her got it) he would be too far behind on his rent to ever return. Eventually he turned his back to the apartment in a swift motion, picking up his bag and car keys.

Ethan does indeed have transportation, but his license got suspended. He wasn't exactly taught how to drive (partly due to his self isolation) nor could he afford driving lessons, so he just winged it. The terrain of the frozen arctic was no cake walk. His gait was heavy with mixed nervousness and intensity as he breathed heavily, deep in thought.

The asphalt may have been abandoned, but not the continuous layer of ice that always covered it. Some aren't even aware of what lies under the ice packs nor that cars used to be a specialty thing. Vehicles were a privilege in The North, the variety of cars never bore influence upon anyone... just as long as they worked.

As Ethan padded down the long hallway with a heavy and slumping gait, he sighed and rubbed his forehead and eye; inexplicably messing up the demotivated effort to make his appearance conformed and perfect. He struggled with his bags as he pushed himself through heavy doors aided by strong winds. There wasn't any help for him, which he didn't expect in the least in this day and age... he just let his luggage slide down the few icy stairs to the landing; though he didn't sacrifice his laptop bag, no matter what... his life was on that computer.

Once outside and collected, he squinted against the wind "Colder than usual" he complained to himself as he grabbed his jacket to pull it closer to his body. His paws nearly slipped as he labored himself and his baggage to his vehicle. It had been a long while since Ethan worked on his cars maintenance, nor even look at it for all that matter. Despite his car rusting away in the shelter of the car garage, there was still a very likely possibility that his car wouldn't even start.

Not many lived outside of the few apartments in the settlement core. Relics of the human past were slightly revamped to meet the neglected building code. Power and running water weren't available to the slowly decomposing little houses in the metropolitan area. This was due to the fact of the significantly less population of The North and it cost less for the settlement to keep utilities generalized.

Ethan often walked out of the settlement core and down the abandoned suburban streets during his unemployment; an idea he had for brainstorming progress in his writing. The cold and gray environment crept him out slightly. He wasn't afraid but his senses were on high alert, and he took in everything. There were so many of those little-houses, most of them were cracked along their foundations, sloped and fallen to ruins. It was similar to the aftermath of a wildfire, though the very aura itself was frozen still.

The wolf pondered to himself of what the past held for these houses but more significantly; he wondered what his ancestors did with the untamed land... land that was taken away from them.

He sighed and shook his head to regain his present focus. All Ethan needed from his car was one little 'ol drive... that wasn't much to ask for, now was it? Granted it was to the summit of Alchris mountain... Ethan grumbled low to himself; this was no time for inner debate. He fumbled with his keys and opened the trunk, loaded his luggage, opened the drivers side door and stuck his laptop-bag in the passenger seat.

Ethan's car was a restored Camaro from the human era, something which he didn't obtain the conventional way. This also went with the false license plate that came with it. There were millions of cars left from the human era that rusted away along with 99% of their other relics, trouble was finding one that worked. Though with license plates, they didn't need the same maintenance as the vehicle does.

Once settled in the drivers seat, the wolf stuck his keys in the ignition and turned it. The motor didn't fire. What did burn was Ethan's ears when his Mp3 player blared.

"Holy fucking-Fenris!" Ethan swore as his fur bristled. Within his startled body, he managed to grab the knob for the volume and twist it almost all the way to zero. The bristled wolf panted softly then swung down his overhead shade with built in mirror. His fur was already a mess. Great.. he thought.. as he drastically attempted to comb his fur with his claws. This wasn't the first time this happened to him, he has a habit of forgetting to turn down the volume before turning off the car. Thankfully for him this time he didn't spill coffee on himself. His jewels never hurt as much as they did that one time.

With a quick flick of a wrist, he flipped the overhead shade back up and then he twisted the key again. The motor struggled. He tried again and he heard nothing but a dying strain. He grunted and even started growling at the machine as he tried again, not letting up this time... determined to make it to his interview on time. Once he got it to finally start he instantly rev'ed the engine to keep it from stalling. With a heavy sigh of relief he slumped back into the seat, geared it in reverse, backed up, then threw it into first and was on his way out of the parking garage.

With the first acceleration upon the icy road way, Ethan already almost spun out. The wolf counter steered and punched it to straighten out the car. Another sigh of relief... he really needs to get his barrings straight before this important interview. He wasn't much of a driver granted... nor did the dents and dings in his side panels say any differently. Ethan didn't really care much, just as long as it got him there in one piece.

Idealy he didn't strive for this, though it was something he easily forsaw. He disliked the idea of distracted driving but Ethan needed to calm himself down. He reached his paw over to his laptop bag, knocking the MP3 player out from the slot as he heard it fall to the floor. Ethan growled as he blindly scoured and thrashed through his bag before grabbing one of his pill bottles. He popped the lid with the pad of his thumb and swallowed one of his many pills without missing a beat... such as he's done it before, even while driving it was no feat for him. Ethan placed the cap back on and threw the bottle aimlessly and the all too familiar rattle tickled his ears as the bottle hit the passenger seat.

His eyes never deviated from the road and he began to finally relax, he needed all his effort to focus in these driving conditions. A frantic wolf driving a car on ice didn't sound good just by the sounds of it. With his calm presence of mind, he reached for the volume knob on his radio interface.

Forgetting that his MP3 lied helpless on the ground out of reach he was initially confused that the radio was playing, more so talk-radio.

"Play was delayed for about 20 minutes as crews cleaned up the aftermath of a devastating tail severing. Morrison was transported to hospital and officials aren't saying as of yet whether or not the rest of his tail can be reattached . This of course has fired up the familiar and drown-out debate whether tail tucking should be mandatory within the Northern Hockey League. With more on this, we turn to Steven Roy."

"Morrison had no business laying on the ice in the first place. I'm not saying he deserved his tail cut off; but he was obviously trying to draw a penalty with his diving on the ice surface. Quite frankly the game's changing too much. Back in the old-days there weren't no mandatory helmets nor visors; just jaw-'n-claw grind-house animalistic hockey.

"Now Steve, we have to keep in mind that today's players are always constantly becoming faster, stronger and bigger as competition has peaked in the league; and available slots are becoming harder and harder to get. Don't you think the safety of the players should be kept within the league?"

"I remember a time when players used to clear the benches and get involved in fierce brawls, back when players had passion for the game. Teeth and fur would fly and you could feel the raw energy of competition. Anyway, I believe it should be up to the player himself to decide whether to tuck his tail into his pants or not. It looks silly to have it tucked; I mean have you ever seen a wolf or a tiger tailless? Most ridiculous!"

"Heh, yeah... I'm sure you've made some of your best saves with your tail?"

"It hurt like hell, but if it was a game saver, it was worth it absolutely!" the second commentator chuckled.

"We're about to start the second period here in Lupine Gardens, now to take..."

Ethan turned off the radio all together and huffed discontentedly. No time for that folly, he thought to himself, the ascent up Alchris mountain required full concentration. The wolf flexed his digits in his right paw, the medication numbing the symptoms of permanent nerve pain; pain that usually kept him up at night without a healthy dosage of pain killers.

A little to the left, or a little to the right and Ethan was dead. The narrow road was daunting enough as it is; especially over ice. He had spiked tires, as did every other functioning vehicle in The North... though Ethan didn't really need to pay much attention to his car until after his first interview via online; even then he didn't pull himself through to do a simple check of his cars vitals.

He was feeling the regret of his procrastination as his nerves was getting to the better of him, despite having his medication taken affect. It was silent, his radio was off and no other cars were within sight as the nose of his car continued to point up while on his ascent.

Who the hell thought it was a good idea to build a hotel up here Anyway? Ethan shouted in his mind and scrunched his face as if was actually talking to someone. Granted it was the beginning of a long winter and during the summer the ice wasn't nearly this bad. The hotel was there ever since his memory began when he was a wee pup, it wouldn't surprise him if the location of the hotel was a human idea.

With a mere glance out of his peripheral vision Ethan began to realize the significance of its location. It had been a long long time since he's been up any of these roads... with it being so far from walking distance. He was at a lost for words. Ethan wasn't awestruck to a point where he lost all comprehension, no.. though the picturesque view certainly was something to behold.

The garden of gray cascaded across the infinite sky. Sol's beams illuminated the mountainous planes that went as far as the lupine eye can see. The golden light blanketed the snow covered horizon and its epicenter was the settlement which Ethan called home.

The metropolis that surrounded the core of the Northerners spread out like veins. There was no getting away from their sight; though thankfully they flowed no more.

As a writer, tangents could happen at any second... and Ethan always kicked himself for not writing when he felt his creativity flow. He never really felt like his writing mattered anyway, deep down. Though who knows who might find his work fascinating...

With his attention off the road and his mind completely elsewhere, his tired began to skid. The sudden shift in momentum brought his distant mind back to otherwise more important matters. His grip on the wheel was so hard that it could have left permanent prints in it.

"Ah, fuck..." Ethan muttered as he lost all traction and was heading for the flimsy guard rail at the edge of Alchris mountain; whether it was 1500 or 15000 feet, the drop will surely kill him. He drifted the camaro into a right turn bank, counter steering and once he got past the apex of the turn he floored it.... problem was he floored it right into a pedestrian.

The heavily clothed dark frame crushed the right front fender, rolled up onto the hood, across the windshield and tumbled over the side of the roof. Ethan slammed the brakes and evidently the car died at the same time that it came to an abrupt stop.

Ethan clenched his paws and hammered his steering wheel in pure frustration as he growled in rage against his machine.

"Don't be dead, don't be dead, don't be dead, don't be dead..." He profusely exclaimed to the camaro. His peripheral vision caught his rear-view mirror and the body that he hit was laying motionless against the frozen ground.

Ethan has a sudden realization of a more pressing matter. The wolf threw off his seat-belt and got out of the car in a hurry.

"Don't be dead, don't be dead, don't be dead, don't be dead...."