Chapter 27

Ariel didn't stop running until she had left the pack terrotory far behind and no longer could hear the howls. Her limbs ached and her lungs burned from the effort of getting away. She had been warned already, and she was not about to push her luck more than she had already. From the packs point of view, she had attacked one of their members. Good reason or not, she could not imagine that they would be happy with what she had done. She could only hope they took her warning to heart.

The next few days were a blur of travel and sleep. Ariel was far too depressed to hunt, and didn't feel hungry anyway. When she found a shallow cave in the side of a steep hill she decided to rest there for a while. Her wolf was reminding her that she needed to clear her mind and get her head back on straight. She was a lone wolf in the wilds, and not only did she have to worry about other wolves, but she had to worry about hunters as well. Ariel knew that she was right, and she decided to get some sleep until she was finally able to sort things out.

The area she chose to rest was thickly wooded, with a winding brook trickling down from somewhere further north. There were tall rocky hills that had small openings for dens and dwellings, allowing for a small supply of food for Ariel. She didn't hunt for the first two days, instead taking that time to spend in her human shape. She felt like she needed to be on two feet, and to feel the breeze on her skin. Sleeping was a challange, but she managed. She was not about to let the wild get the better of her, not after everything she had been through so far. The voice of her wolf kept her company throughout it all.

The cave she had chosen was quite cozy, with a floor covered in old fallen leaves and a ceiling that slope dupward toward the entrance. Beneath the leaf litter was a solid stone floor, and Ariel had taken the time to clear away a patch and lined it with medium sized stones she retrieved from the brook. This gave her the ability to have fired inside the cave. Next, she broke the lower branches off young evergreens and lined them up on their ends at the entrance, creating a door and leaving just enough space for her to enter, and space at the top of the doorway for smoke to escape. Making the fire was the most difficult part.

When preparing to leave back in the hunter town, everyone had been instructed in the various ways to make fire, build shelters, and hunt in human form. This was to ensure that, even if they could not shift for whatever reason, they would still be able to take care of themselves. They had practiced most of their skills, though Ariel found that a lack of motivation made it far more difficult to make crude rope and make a fire bow. Her wolf was the only thing keeping her growing, even reminding her of what she needed to do and offering words of encouragement when it was needed. Without her wolf, Ariel was sure she would have just laid down and let the elements take her.

The fire was comforting once the sun had gone down and the world outside of her little cave was an abyss of darkness. There was enough firewood to keep the fire going for several days, even if she didn't currently have anything to cook over it. The fire itself seemed to boost her mood and made her feel less alone. The heat was comforting and the hypnotic dance of the flames allowed her to empty her mind of everything but her wolf. She could revel in the feel of her in her chest and be secure in the knowledge that she was not alone.

The next morning dawned to a gentle rain. The sky was grey, but the clouds held the promise of sunshine. It was warm and Ariel felt refreshed. She needed a good night's sleep and a warm fire. After a good stretch in the warm rain, she shifted, shaking out her fur and taking off at a trot through the patch of woods. While serving up for her camp, Ariel had made note of where she saw animals, or signs of animals. Prints, scat, or even dens had been noted and she was headed back to those places to see what she could find. She was going to need a good bit of food to make up for not eating for a few days, but she was now willing to put in a good bit of effort.

The first thing she found was a chipmunk den, but it was not worth the trouble of digging it out and consuming. Instead she followed the trail of it's scent to where it frequented. This would lead her to its food source and, hopefully, to bigger prey. She needed at least a few rabbits, or perhaps a deer. It was fawning season so there was a chance she could find something easy to get. The idea of killing a baby deer was still uncomfortable for her, but sometimes labor didn't go well and she could possibly find something.

The trail led her to a stand of rather scraggly, but productive fruiting trees. Oaks, autumn olives, and even wild apple trees were clustered around a deeper portion of the brook west of where her little cave was. She went down to the water for a drink and to look for signs of bigger prey. Lucky for her, this was a hot spot and she could see many different kinds of prints in the wet sand and mud on the bank. As she was trying to find a set of tracks that were at least a day old, a new scent hit her. It was pungent, smelling of old blood, acrid musk, and rotting meat. Her hackles went up immediately, the voice of her wolf telling her that she was in danger. Her eyes darted about until she saw movement on a small rise on the other side of the brook. Three hulking forms crested the tiny hill, their teeth bared. These were other wolves, but she knew they were not pack wolves.