QUILLER
A pale pink halo has begun to swell over the peaks of the Ice Giants, blushing color into the long fingers of mist that creep down their flanks toward the ocean.
I keep an eye on the mist as I wander across the cliff top near the parents’ shelter, gathering bison dung and stacking it in the crook of my left arm. The morning smells damp and earthy, as though a rainstorm is drenching the glaciers somewhere out of my sight. Occasionally, I think I hear thunder, but it could be the quiet voices of waking Ice Giants.
RabbitEar collects dung five paces away. He’s balancing a large stack in his arm. We’ve barely spoken this morning, but it’s more than our unpleasant discussion about Lynx last night. We’re both worried about Jawbone.
“Let’s head back,” RabbitEar says. “My armload is getting precarious.”
To illustrate his point, a frozen bison patty slides off the mound he carries, thuds upon the ground, and rolls in a circle at his feet.
As he reaches down to pick it up, movement catches my attention. To the north, a red shape steadily moves along the rim. Slowly, I lean down to pick up my spear where I left it lying on the ice. “RabbitEar? Wolf.”
Quickly, he snatches his spear from the ground and whirls to face me. “Where? Show me.”
Using my chin, I gesture northward to the lone dire wolf. The big animal has broken into a lope with his tail wagging. He’s happy to finally see breakfast, meaning us.
If we run, the wolf will chase us. We’d never make it back inside before we were in a fight for our lives.
We both dump our armloads of bison dung, brace our feet, and glower at the oncoming animal.
The dire wolf continues to lope toward us with his tail wagging. They are so unlike dogs. This young wolf weighs half again as much as I do and has massive front legs. His reddish fur glints in the pre-dawn glow.
“Dire wolf strategy,” I say and raise my left arm to flare out my cape to make myself appear larger and more threatening than I am.
RabbitEar does the same. “I doubt he’ll be stupid enough to challenge two of us.”
“Depends on how hungry he is. Do you think that’s the same young wolf that’s been trotting the shoreline?”
When the wolf gets to within twenty paces, we both shout and wave our spears. The dire wolf stops, pricks his ears. As he sizes us up, he licks his muzzle.
“One more step and I’ll spear your heart!” RabbitEar yells and ferociously growls back at the wolf.
The animal backs up two paces. He seems to be weighing the taste of our flesh against the danger we present. While he thinks about this, he bares his fangs, and his gaze moves back and forth between us.
“He’s a young beautiful animal,” I say. “Be a shame to kill him.”
“Won’t, unless he makes a childish mistake.”
As Father Sun edges closer to the horizon, the red tip of each wolf hair shimmers like it’s been dipped in liquid gold. His gaze has fixed on me. RabbitEar’s stout body is packed with muscles. I’m tall, but willowy. I’m the weaker target, and the wolf knows it. If he decides to lunge, it will be straight at me.
RabbitEar whispers, “He’s coming.”
I take a new grip on my spear. “Give him a little more time to work this out.”
“I will, but not too long.”
When the dire wolf lays his ears flat and snarls, I lunge forward, my feet pounding across the ice while I roar like a crazed lion.
The young wolf’s eyes fly wide open in shock, then he bounds away with his tail between his legs, casting several glances over his shoulder to see if I’m still pursuing him.
Chuckling, I prop my spear over my shoulder and walk back.
“Blessed Jemen! I wish you wouldn’t do things like that,” RabbitEar shouts. “What if he’d decided to meet your challenge and leapt for your throat? You were directly in my casting line. I couldn’t have speared him if I’d wanted to.”
“I would have speared him myself.” As I pass him, I say, “Come on. It’s almost sunrise. We need to see if Jawbone has built a breakfast fire.”
RabbitEar places a hand to his chest. “I’ll be there as soon as I can get my heart out of my throat.”