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A solitary figure was glimpsed through the dense trees, appearing and disappearing among the close knit trunks of the lodgepole pines in an almost ghostlike manner. Bent forward with a great load on his back, he drifted through the mottled shadows and shafts of sunlight with purpose in his strides. He struggled through the snow with laboured steps until he came to the bottom of a steep incline. There he cast off his burden, struggled a few steps free of it and bent forwards, resting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. A short moment later, he straightened up, wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. His face contorted in a grimace of pain and a groan escaped between his lips as he put a hand to his aching back.

He hated this hill, and he unconsciously ground his teeth together as his eyes followed the narrow trail that wound between the trees and up the incline. He hated this hill as much as it was possible to hate a dirt covered mound of rock that grew trees like weeds. After fighting his way up that incline twice already this morning, he felt that it was a hate well deserved. There was really no easy way around the hill that didn't involve hiking for a couple of hours and this spot had seemed like the easiest place to scramble up to the crest. The lines of his face settled into a deep frown and he rubbed his left elbow in an absent minded manner. On his first trip up the side of this blasted hill he had found out the hard way that some measure of care was needed at this particular part of the trail. He had been halfway to the top and he had lost his footing when his pack shifted. He had landed hard on his side in the snow and started sliding down the hill, picking up a terrifying amount of speed with each metre that he slid. A tree finally interrupted his slide just before he got to the bottom of the hill and he had bruised his left elbow when he collided with it. No permanent damage had been done but the incident had served as a painful reminder that to injure himself out here in the middle of nowhere could have severe, perhaps even fatal consequences. He sighed and tried to stretch the cramped muscles in his back. He was getting really tired and to make matters worse, the sun had warmed the day to somewhere just above the freezing point and the softening snow was becoming treacherously slippery.

He took the few steps back to his burden on rubbery legs. After staring at it for a few moments, deciding how best to get it back up on his back again with as little pain as possible, he stooped down and took hold of the pack. With a great heave of his arms, he threw it over his shoulder. So heavy was the pack and so tired was he that he almost toppled over backwards. He caught himself at the last moment and staggered a few steps forward. Bent forwards like an old man under his burden once more, he caught his breath for a moment. His pale eyes followed the trail up the incline, calculating, judging the best path. Forty metres he figured. Forty metres of clawing his way up through thawing snow, sharp branches and the raspy trunks of trees, that would get him to the top of the hill. There the ground levelled off somewhat and the going was easier. From the crest of the hill, it would be perhaps three hundred or so metres northwards before he reached his new camp and could finally rest.

Thank God this was his last trip. Another would surely kill him.

*******************

Morning had relaxed into early afternoon and the sun had climbed to the peak of its shallow arc over the hills to the south. A feeble yet welcome warmth accompanied the gentle breeze that blew from the west as Kendri stepped off the porch of the old cabin and made her way down the trail towards the distant valley and the unknown that lay within it. She walked easily and out in the open, no longer taking great care in hiding her tracks and remaining unseen, for now she wanted to reveal her existence to the strange creature camped in the valley below.

She was uncertain as to what the future would hold, and a slight trace of fear raced down her spine as her thoughts wandered to the meeting that lay ahead.

Was she doing the right thing?

She had to be. It just felt right, as if that was the way things must be, but still the fear lingered upon her like a cold hand on her shoulder. The creature possessed a weapon that carried the Power of Thunder, and she had nothing to counter that but a spear tipped with the broken blade of a corroded old knife. What possible use would that be against a weapon so deadly that it could kill at a distance of one hundred spans?

None. She would be dead before she came close enough to cast her spear against him. She shivered a bit at that thought.

It wouldn't come to that, she felt it. Or did she? On some level she knew that no blood would be shed. Perhaps it had something to do with the dream that she had last night.

She paused a moment on the crest of a ridge amongst a few scraggly pines and gathered her thoughts as the wind swirled around her. The creature's camp was close, only five hundred or so spans away.

The dream. The creature. Both seemed to be intertwined with her in some strange way. The utter reality of the dream made it seem more along the lines of a vision. Such visions were not unheard of but they were rare. Usually they were omens of the future, either good or bad, and came only to those who had the power within them to act upon what was revealed to them. She sadly shook her head. Such things were so confusing. She was no Seer and she had surely not sought any vision, yet the vision had come, unstoppable as the turning of the seasons. Had she been among a village of her people, she would at least have had the counsel of the Elders and the Seers to assist her in understanding what she had seen and why it had come to her. But here, in this vast track of unknown land, she had only herself and she was unsure of the meaning, if any, of what she had seen. She had felt no evil in her vision, only sadness and despair. Yet, at the very end, as the vision or dream or whatever it was fading into consciousness, there was also a faint sense of hope that lingered and that is what she must have latched on to. A faint hope that perhaps old wounds could be healed and that maybe her long exile had come to an end.

Why must things be so so bewildering? She thought. Maybe she had tricked herself into believing that such things were possible because that is what her heart desired most. She couldn't be sure. Maybe her so-called vision had just been nothing more than a strange dream.

She stood on the ridge a moment longer, racked with indecision. She almost turned back, but she forced herself on. She had resolved herself to seek out the creature and she would carry out this deed. Without another thought, she once again took up the trail towards his camp.

As she neared the camp, she circled around upwind, hoping to give the creature some advance warning of her approach and not take him totally by surprise, for surprising such a creature as the one that waited down in the valley might provoke a nasty reaction. She walked as much in the open as she could, no longer afraid of making noise or being seen. Closer she came, until she was only about a hundred spans from the creature's camp. As she approached closer yet, the feeling that something was wrong ran through her mind on light feet. She paused for a moment and cocked her head, senses straining to pick out anything unnatural or threatening from the background whispers of the forest. When she had assured herself that there was nothing wrong, she continued her approach. She passed out of the trees and into plain view with her heart pounding and her shaking paws gripping her spear tightly. She blinked in surprise when she saw that nothing remained of the creature's camp except trampled snow and a black pit where the ever-present fire had once flickered and burned.

Kendri stopped, surprised and confused. Had the creature disappeared as suddenly as he had arrived?

Warily, she sniffed the wind and silently cursed herself for being so bold on her approach. Perhaps she had scared the stranger away. That thought brought a sudden chuckle to her throat.

Scared him away? Was she so terrifying? To her, it was an amusing thought, but her laughter came to an abrupt halt when she realized that she might not be far off the mark.

She had not thought of the possibility of the stranger being afraid of her. She had assumed that a creature with his kind of power would not fear much. Perhaps he did after all. Kendri thought hard on that question for a moment. Perhaps, she was as strange and different to the creature as he was to her...

With caution once more on her mind, Kendri crept into the creature's camp for the first time. She sniffed here and there amid the trampled snow, seeking clues as to the reason for the stranger's swift departure. His scent traces were old, with the most recent of them from sometime this morning, but she was not certain. At length she came before the remnants of the fire and crouched down before it. The fire seemed to be long dead. She used the blunt end of her spear to stir the ashes and held an outstretched paw over the cinders. A feeble warmth rose to greet the pads of her fingers.

Kendri scratched her muzzle thoughtfully. Five hours she guessed, that was when the fire had last been tended. She rose to her feet and stood silently for a moment. Some of the scent traces here seemed more recent than that. One in particular she could pick out without much trouble. It shared the same characteristics as the other scent traces, yet it was different. It was heavier, thicker, and carried with it an underlying hint of... Salt?

Now that is strange, she said to herself.

She followed that scent trail, trace by trace through the trampled snow until she came to the edge of the camp. There she found a trail that led northwards. It had been travelled several times by the creature's heavy feet. Twice out, twice back and out once more. She was perplexed by this strange trail and crouched long in thought before it.

The subtle irony of this situation made Kendri chuckle for a moment. Just when she managed to pull together enough fragments of her courage to reveal herself, the creature disappears. All the trouble she went through of circling around to the upwind and taking her time to come to the camp had been wasted effort. She could have saved a lot of time by just walking straight on in from the downwind side and circling around later. Then she would have known far sooner that the creature had departed to parts unknown. A crooked smile came to her muzzle. Her father would have gently scolded her for making such an unwise decision.

She pushed herself to her feet and looked down the trail that led away from the abandoned camp. There was nothing left for her here. She would follow this trail to its conclusion, and then perhaps she would gain some answers to her many questions.

**************

The gentle gurgling of the nearby by stream was a welcome distraction as the stranger sat on a boulder a short distance from the bank of the stream. Never before in his life had he been as tired as he was now. So deep was his weariness that he didn't know if he would be able to pry himself from the stone that he sat upon should a reason to do so present itself.

He had managed to move everything from his old camp in three laborious trips. Though he had started early in the morning it had nevertheless taken him the better part of the day to complete the task. Now as the sun sank ever lower towards the mountains in the west, he still had much work to do. Firewood must be gathered, and he had only just begun work on a crude lean-to next to a large boulder. He had to at least finish some sort of shelter before night came, even if that meant setting up the tent again. Sleeping out in the snow was not an option, no matter how tired he was.

Firewood wasn't a serious problem. There was plenty near at hand, though most of it was still standing. Shelter was another matter. He had cleared snow from the ground around a large boulder that was almost two-thirds his height and the beginnings of a lean-to were taking shape. From the dim recesses of his memory came a faint recollection of things learned years ago in a survival course. One of these was that a shelter could be built around or next to a large stone. If a fire was built right against such a boulder, the stone would heat up and continue to radiate heat long after the fire died down. With winter was well on its way, he needed all the help he could get if he was to survive through it. That extra bit of warmth could mean the difference between life or a slow death from hypothermia in the long, cold nights ahead. With this in mind he had started a small fire next to the large boulder and then gathered a pile of stones together and placed them about two and half metres from the large boulder. He had then cut a few long thin trees to serve as a frame for the sloping roof that would give him shelter from the unpredictable weather in these parts, but he had yet to start on the roof.

With a groan he forced himself to his feet and slung his rifle over his shoulder, grimacing as he felt a twinge in his spine. Ignoring the pain from overworked muscles as best as he could, he walked on rubbery legs over to where his axe leaned up against the cooler. Stiffly he stooped over and took hold of it and then went in search of some green spruce boughs to serve as a roof for his crude shelter.

Three times he came back to the boulder with his arms laden with branches, making a large pile right next to it. On his last trip, he figured that he had enough to do the job. He leaned the axe up against the stone, deposited the rifle on top of the cooler and began to assemble the roof of his shelter.

As he worked, he began to get the strangest feeling that he was being watched. He couldn't shake it off. When he turned to work on his shelter, a prickling sensation grew between his shoulder blades, as if someone were boring holes in his back with their eyes. When he turned to look, there was nothing there. It was the strangest feeling and it was beginning to make him uneasy. He stopped working and listened intently for a minute. Nothing but the gurgling of the creek and the wind in the trees came to his ears. His faded blue eyes searched his surroundings for any hint of an observer but found nothing but rocks, trees and snow.

Creepy, he thought and he muttered something unintelligible under his breath.

With a shake of his head he turned back to the task at hand. He finished laying the spruce branches down and then went and fetched his old orange tent. He put the old tent on top of the layer of spruce branches to help waterproof the roof and weighted it down with a few carefully placed stones. Hopefully the bright orange tent would serve as a beacon to any rescue that may come.

He stood back and examined his work with satisfaction. Outwardly it looked hideous, especially with the old tent spread out on top of it. The lean-to would not be comfortable by any means but it should at least be relatively warm and dry, which was more than could be said of the tent over the last few days.

Enough work for today, he thought, He was weary beyond words and longed to lie down and sleep but he still had things to do. The lean-to was complete for the most part, and he had enough firewood to last him through until the next day. However, the strenuous effort of moving all of his gear and setting up his new camp had left him with a ravenous hunger. Deer steaks would go quite well right about now, he said to himself as he went over to the cooler and retrieved a large cast iron frying pan and a tin plate.

He ambled over to where he had dropped the remains of the deer he had shot the day before. He had used the hide as a sort of crude bag to carry the meat in during the move. With some effort, he bent aside the frozen skin and skewered a particularly tasty looking morsel with the point of his hunting knife and deposited it in the frying pan. He took a few moments to slice the half frozen meat into smaller chunks before he set the frying pan carefully on the fire.

Soon the air was filled with a delicious aroma as the slices of venison sizzled and cooked. With great care he tended the meat, using the point of the knife to move them about, making sure they were cooked just right. As he cooked his meal, the overpowering feeling of being watched again settled upon him. His brows drew together and he turned his head to the side for a moment. Then slowly, he stood up and turned around. As his eyes met the Watcher's, he jerked back in surprise, and the knife in his hand fell with a thud into the snow.

For a moment he thought he had gone mad, that reality had slipped from his grasp and the fine line between sanity and insanity had finally been crossed. For the first time in his life, he questioned what his eyes revealed to him, for some fifteen metres away stood an impossibility.

He stood still as stone, jaw hanging open and staring openly at a creature that he knew could not, should not exist.

It stood before him, a creature perhaps five feet tall, wearing a simple leather cloak with a belt about its waist and bearing a spear as long as it was tall. A creature covered in fur from head to toe.

A wolf. That is what registered in his shocked mind. It had the typical grey wolf markings, a cream coloured underfur with black tipped guard hairs scattered throughout, black rimmed triangular ears, piercing amber eyes and a tail that waved gently to and fro. But it could not be a wolf, for it stood on two legs as well as any human could.

More as a reflex than anything else, he covered the distance between the rifle on the cooler and himself in two long strides. He snatched up the rifle and stood at the ready, eyes warily upon the creature before him. As soon as he grabbed the gun, a change came over the creature's posture. Its triangular ears went flat against its head and it cringed as thought awaiting a blow. When he did nothing but stare back, an incredible thing happened.

The creature regained some of its composure and held out its spear with both hands. Then, making sure he watched every move, it bent over and laid the weapon carefully in the snow. It then straightened up and slowly stepped over the weapon. Two careful strides towards him put the weapon out of its reach. It stopped there and carefully raised its hands, holding them straight out at chest level to show that it was now unarmed.

His mind reeled in shock. Did he really just see that? His mouth hung open and he stood rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do next. The creature looked back, fear in its amber eyes, ears flicking up then down again in indecision. He swore that he saws its hands shaking.

It was impossible to misunderstand the meaning of what he had just witnessed. The creature meant him no harm, it had shown him in its own way that it was not a threat to him. After a moment's indecision, he lowered his weapon and then turned and placed it back upon the cooler. He took a deep breath and then stepped forward holding his now empty hands out at arms length, palms upward, mimicking the creature's actions.

The creature's ears perked up and the tail began to gently wag. Now what? he thought. They stared at each other, each no doubt wondering what the next move was going to be until sudden inspiration struck the stranger.

Food! The creature had probably been attracted by the smell of his cooking. He thought furiously for a moment, then came to a decision. He went over to the fire and removed the frying pan from it. He scraped half of what was in it onto a tin plate and then stepped forward towards the creature with the plate in hand. The creature cringed once again but despite the show of fear, he could see it sniff the air hungrily. Deciding not to risk approaching any further, he set the plate on a convenient rock and then retreated to the fire.

He took the frying pan in hand and using the point of his hunting knife, he began to eat his meal. The whole time, his eyes never left the creature.

Wary at first, it began to creep closer to the plate on the stone. Its amber eyes flickered back and forth between him and the rifle on the cooler. It stopped a few meters short of the food and sniffed the air again. Obviously, it was unsure of this gift. It crept closer yet, eyes never leaving him until it snatched up the plate with a hand and scurried back several paces.

As he slowly chewed his slightly charred dinner, he watched with utter amazement as the creature downed the meat that was on the plate in a matter of seconds. After that, it held the plate in both hands and licked it clean before coming carefully forward to deposit it on the rock.

Boy, it must have been hungry, he thought.

The wolf-like creature seemed a little happier now. It's ears perked up and a spark burned in its eyes. Its tail was wagging freely now and he swore that he saw the thing smile at him. Then, without warning the wolf picked its spear from the snow and raised a hand as if in farewell. He looked up in surprise from his meal and watched as it abruptly turned and walked away towards the creek. It stopped at the edge of the trees about thirty metres away and on some impulse, he stood and waved to it. Much to his surprise, the wolf stood still for a moment, then waved back. Without any further ado, it turned and disappeared into the trees, leaving him alone once again.

As he sat and slowly chewed his meal, he was really wondering whether he had just seen some wolfish creature that walked on two legs or if he was just having some weird hallucination brought on by fatigue, deprivation and being stranded in this damned wilderness by himself for six days. He had almost convinced himself that he was hallucinating until he found himself staring at a tin plate perched ever so delicately on top of a large snow covered stone roughly five metres away.

He put the frying pan down for a moment and made a wry face as he contemplated the undeniable fact that the past ten minutes had indeed actually occurred, and had not been some sort of dream or hallucination. He held his head in his hands and groaned. His life, whatever had become of it now, had just become a whole hell of a lot more complicated.