Time has a sneaky habit of speeding up and slowing down, feeling as though it is passing so slowly and yet, so quickly too. This is how the next few days pass for Aurora. Before she knows it, a week has flitted by since she found her new den and that awful, terrifying first night in it. And although the time has gone by quickly, she has been occupied with so many tasks that it feels like an age has passed, too. She soon falls into a routine of habit, like how when you walk next to someone, you end up copying their steps and walking in time with them.
When the sun bravely peers above the horizon, signalling the start of a new day, Aurora rises and adds new fuel to the fire, which has burnt down to a pile of smouldering embers overnight. She collects small chunks of ice from the surface of the lake and brings them back to the den, placing them next to the fire to melt them down into drinking water. Once her thirst is quenched and the fire has warmed her to the bone, she heads out into the forest and spends the rest of the day searching for food and firewood. With so many trees it is easy to find firewood around here, but food is somewhat trickier to come by. Aurora mainly focuses her efforts on collecting berries and nuts, because the animals in this area seem to be too wise for her traps. Every day she checks them, and every day they are empty.
Her searches never take her far from the shelter, and Aurora is careful to get her bearings, soon building up a clear picture of the surroundings. It would be a great tragedy to lose her den now.
As soon as the sun begins its slinking path back down, she returns to her den. It remains light for a good few hours longer, but this time of day always makes her uneasy. The start of dusk is the time when Wildebeast are most likely to come out, in search for food. In search of humans.
And it’s not just Wildebeast. Arachnids and wolves are nocturnal, too. Becoming dinner for any of these creatures isn’t an idea Aurora likes the sound of.
She sits in the den while the day seeps into the blue hour, and then into night, all the while stoking the fire and eating whatever small spoils of food she could find that day. It’s never enough. There is a constant growl in her stomach, a constant yearning for more. The bones in her hands jut out prominently, as if reminding her that she hasn’t had enough. She feels like rolling her eyes and snapping at them. “I know I haven’t had enough. I just can’t find anything out there.”
To distract herself from the miserable pang of hunger, she turns her gaze skyward and wanders at the beauty above. Amongst the scattering of stars float giant, cloud-like creatures made from wispy puffs of transparent white. The whaley ghosts are some of Aurora’s favourite beings that live in (or, I suppose in this case, above) the forest. They hang up in the sky, far too distant to ever be touched.
But it’s not long before the rumbling emptiness inside pushes Aurora to search harder and longer for food. She ventures into new areas, even stumbling across a clearing where the relentless tree cover is broken and there is a view of the sky above. It is in this clearing, a week after finding her new den, that Aurora spots something which normally only prowls in her nightmares.
The glimpse of a towering white figure, with antlers rising above its head and a thick, shaggy coat.
Traumatic memories rush into her head, completely uninvited. She tries in vain to shut them out, but they scream too loudly to be ignored.
Her tribe members shouted frantically as their eyes locked onto something behind her. Aurora turned to look, but she was too late. As her head moved, there came the sickening crunch of bones being snapped as if they were no stronger than twigs. Someone was trying to scream, but the noise was muffled into submission before it saw the light of day...
A Wildebeast.
She can hear nothing but the pounding of her heart, louder and louder and louder. Shivers skate up and down her body, dragging down her core temperature.
Next to the beast are three alpine doves pecking around for some seed cones. Aurora knows their time is about to be up. But a bird or two is hardly a substantial meal for such a huge creature. If it sees Aurora, she will surely be next.
Quicker than the wind, she turns and flees back to the safety of her home. She would rather starve than come face to face with the beast of her nightmares.
She waits two days before returning to the clearing. In an ideal world she wouldn’t have returned at all, but there was no denying the supply of food around there was much better than elsewhere. And this time, she goes with her guard up, ready for what might be there...
Lurking amongst the trees around the clearing, she approaches its border and peeks out. Sure enough, the Wildebeast is still there.
The haunting memories come knocking again, but this time Aurora’s self-control is stronger. She refuses to give them any headspace.
Stay focused.
If the beast is still here, she will have to wait until it is gone before she can go out and collect the food she desperately needs. But something about this situation isn’t quite right. It’s not what she expects, and it makes her forehead wrinkle as she contemplates it.
The three alpine doves are still out there in the clearing too. Of course there are hundreds of these birds in the forest, but one of them has an injured wing, which is the same as the ones that were here before.
This raises an unsettling question.
Wildebeast are savage, cruel hunters - something Aurora knows first hand. They are masters of the forest, and will attack any prey that takes their interest, whether small or large. Owls eat mice, and arachnids eat owls, but at the top of the food chain, it is always Wildebeast. No other creature in the forest can compete.
So why hasn’t this Wildebeast killed those alpine doves? One of them is even injured, so it couldn’t be an easier task! Aurora watches with her mouth open in bemusement as the Wildebeast stands next to the doves, tossing seed cones closer to them. She waits, expecting it to pounce at any moment.
But it doesn’t.
There is no air of threat coming from the beast. Its slow movements are more tranquil than dangerous. Why hasn’t it attacked? What is it doing?
This behaviour is distinctly different than any other Wildebeast she has seen before, and no matter how hard she tries, Aurora can’t think of any way to explain it. What is going on?
At last, she decides to dismiss it as just a strange fluke.
The beast will probably kill the doves at some point, anyway.
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