The lands glowed a bright alabaster, tucked under an icy blanket, lying under the endless flakes. The fluffy bears had gone to sleep for the season, their deep breaths painting the air with a silver mist. Tiny squirrels dashed about the barren trees, their cheeks fat with nuts and berries. A cardinal perched on a low branch, fluffing its ruby red wings before taking off as a skinny doe came galloping past. She stopped, tilting her nose to the sky as flakes of cold snow greeted her happily. But as if she remembered something urgent, she began to gallop again, leaving a trail of round prints in her wake, kicking up a flurry of snow.
The forest ahead was a maze of green and brown, a touch route for newcomers; but she’d gone through that forest hundreds of times it seemed. Every rabbit hole, every flake of tree bark, every overturned stump or low hanging limb, she knew them all. Ducking and jumping, she almost stomped on a hare that dodged between her feet, screaming angrily at her callousness. She belated a sincere apology, not stopping until she finally broke through the line of trees that opened to a meadow. Her breaths were heavy as she rested for a moment, her head darting from left to right before loosing a high pitched bark into the snowy world. Again and again she barked, it was crisp, sweet, a truly lovely sound that called out. “Where are you?!” She seemed to say as she barked again, her eyes scanning through the falling snow.
Everything was white. Maybe it was too cold. Or maybe the snow was too high. Or maybe her friend wouldn’t come that day. Maybe she wouldn’t come the next day either. Perhaps the doe would never see her dear friend again. But determined to prove those fates false, she barked and barked, calling and calling out into the world until at last, her cries were returned with a deep howl. It echoed over the hills and into the snow-covered forest, causing every fearful rabbit to hide, and every jumpy squirrel to find a place high in the trees, and every sniveling weasel to flee in the opposite direction. But the doe stood her ground, turning westward, her tail flicking happily as a low figure plowed over a snowy hill, kicking up snow and rolling over itself until she decided to meet them. She trotted at first, but as the howling continued her pace picked up into a gallop. The snow was soft and deep beneath her hooves, threatening to hold her in place as she took long awkward strides onward.
The howls turned into excited barking, and finally into heavy, tongue-hanging panting. The furry hound held her gaze, her ears perked up and her tail wagging so hard it could have caused its own snowstorm. The two creatures exchanged usual greetings, a lengthy rubbing of their noses followed by sniffing and jumping and bleats and barks of jubilancy. And after the greetings, the two of them laid on their stomachs, the doe gazing into her husky friend’s turquoise eyes, and the husky returning her gaze curiously, still panting with her tongue out. What would she have said to her friend if she could speak? I’ve missed you, perhaps. What took you so long? Or I’m happy you’re here again.
The husky barked suddenly, rolling onto her back, inviting the doe to nuzzle her. And so she did. Her coat was soft, fluffy like the snow that fell around them. The husky panted, pawing gently at her doe companion who moved her snout left and right across the fuzzy stomach. Ah, such bliss. If the two of them could have formed a word for their time spent together, it would be bliss. Cold, snow covered, cuddly bliss.
CRACK!
A single deafening sound cracked like a whip from the forest far behind. The husky was back on her feet in seconds, her eyes piercing through the snowfall, her nose turned up, sniffing for predators. Why was that sound so familiar? Why was it so…loud? What was it?
Sniff…sniff…sniff.
A new smell, a strong smell. It wasn’t a predator. Another sound, turned her on her paws, her gaze landing upon the doe who bellowed painfully up to the sky. The husky barked, sniffing next to the doe, stopping to survey the bloodied hole in the tawny fur. She barked again as the doe bellowed. A guttural sound, wet and raspy. Every animal knew what those sounds meant.
The doe was dying. But why? Moments ago they’d been having so much fun, jumping and playing in their snowy wonderland, sniffing and pawing each other, watching their breaths cascade around them. But the world around them had turned into a void. The only sounds were those horrid, uneven, labored breaths. Her mouth opened and closed; and her black eyes, black as a night sky, were wet with tears of sorrow.
From her spot where she lay on the frozen earth, she watched her husky friend turn quickly, growling fiercely with her fuzzy white tail straight in the air. A protector, a guard. Her guard, her protector. She tried to bellow again, perhaps for caution, perhaps to tell her friend to flee and leave her behind; but the only sound that came out was a wet cough, followed by the frigid cold of the snowy ground roughly meeting the side of her face. She couldn’t move her legs, or her tail, so instead, her body convulsed in anger, in determination. Again and again until the world before grew hazy, her vision clouding. It was colder than usual, the doe noticed slowly. Even the heavy nudges from her pooch were cold, no, she couldn’t feel them at all. Numbness consumed her dying feelings, even her mind became clouded and muddled, until she could think no more. Her instincts were no more than flashes of black and white as she closed her eyes. Those deep, angered growls and sorrowful howls were so distant, so far away, so…so…pained.
