I went into the white wilderness, marching into the unknown. I contemplated life as I trudged through the deep snow. I didn't know where to go, but forward I went. The trees around the hills had died, and the entire land was quiet. Nothing living was in sight.
I shuddered, fighting the biting cold as I weaved through the trees. My determination began to diminish after several hours passed. The sky was getting dark. One could barely hold a front against the chills with no direction in mind. Fear grew slowly but steadily.
I reached a wall of brambles and branches. It looked unnatural. The wall was covered with long thorns, long enough to deter a person from approaching. I was no longer a person. With my purpose, I was a force. It was my first obstacle.
I hacked away at the branches, breaking a hole wide enough for a man to crawl through. Thankfully, I was protected by layers of animal skin. I covered my head and crawled through the hole. The thorns took apart the first layer of my clothes.
Before me was a large frozen river I had never been to before, and I wondered how I missed this river since my men and I had scoured the entire land. The river was bound to abound with fishes of many kinds. Something fishy was going on. I tested the ice with my foot, and the ice proved solid.
Something flashed by. I looked around to be sure I wasn't hallucinating. I saw nothing but hazy weather. The snow had begun to fall heavily, affecting my vision. The wailing sound of the wind and the heaviness of the snow helped dampen my senses, leaving me nearly blind and deaf. I pressed on despite the elements, still uncertain of the destination.
Then I heard a howl that shook the ice. I had never heard an animal make such an ominous sound. It sent shivers down my spine. The sound seemed to come from the forest ahead. The first thought that crossed my mind was to flee in the opposite direction. Then an epiphany hit me.
'Only the right way is fraught with obstacles and difficulties.'
I brandished my machete and a harpoon, my weapons of war. I steadied my heart and continued trekking without changing my direction. Then I heard another howl and it was just as frightening as the first. I already made up my mind. Killing those creatures also meant more food for my tribe. I began to think of them as slabs of meat.
After crossing the river, a thought crossed my mind, fed by my fear of death and the unknown.
'I could turn back now and go back to the village. There was a river we hadn't seen. There was going to be fish. We could weather through the storm—'
I interrupted myself at that point. I came on the journey to end winter, not to look for food. The thoughts receded when I held my goal in mind. I walked cautiously into the next forest, weapons ready, involuntarily trembling, knowing I was entering peril.
A few hours went by. I knew I had to stop. The night sky was clear, and the moon shone brightly, illuminating the white landscape and the black dead trees around. It was an eerie scene, but here I was, looking for a place to camp for the night. I gathered twigs and branches, and after stacking them, I ignited them with a flint and my machete. Finally, I took some precautions.
In the warmth of the flames, I thought about my wife and the village. They were waiting for me, but they couldn't for long. I thought about the new river I hadn't seen before and the thorn wall. Everything seemed off. I could tell there was something unnatural happening.
My thoughts were interrupted by the snap of a twig near my camp. I was on my feet, alert and ready. I heard a deep growl from my right and another from my left. Those creatures had ambushed me. The light of the moon revealed the twin silhouettes that approached.
I thought they were wolves, but they were much bigger than the grey wolves that lived here. They were visibly thin, probably because of the absence of prey. Their eyes glowed green in the night as they circled me slowly, waiting for me to make a slip-up. My machete and harpoon were steady and sure. The silence was terrifying.
My heart was beating fast as I plotted the best course of action. I took a deep breath and picked a plan. I dove for a tree not far from me. The Wolves immediately took action, rushing at me from both sides. I finally saw them in the light of the fire. Their fur colours were strange. One was white with black spots, the other black with white spots.
I felt the wind on my back and ducked. One of the wolves knocked into the tree and whimpered. The other successfully pounced on me. The weight nearly knocked me unconscious. Before it could bite me, I jabbed the harpoon into its abdomen, spilling the wolf's blood all over me. It squealed in pain.
I shoved it to the side and rolled away. I stood face-to-face with the other wolf, barely watching the first die. The impact of the wolf's pounce began to take its toll. The green eyes of the wolf that lived glowed hatefully at me, and it seemed to realise that I was losing strength. I knew I couldn't face it squarely.
I fled in a direction, and with a growl, the wolf pursued me and quickly caught up. I dived over a spot and looked behind me. The wolf stepped into a trap I had set up earlier. A net enveloped the wolf and caught it up in the air. My body ached as I got up on my feet. I walked over to the dead wolf and plucked out the harpoon. I walked to the trapped wolf, relishing how it struggled in the net.
With six jabs from the harpoon, the trapped wolf released its final yelp. I gathered the corpses and sat down to examine them. They looked like wolves, yet they weren't. The heads were grotesque, and the fur seemed like mist. Right before my eyes, the corpses faded into nothing. Fear, in addition to the the winter's cold, sent chills running down my spine.
(End of part 2)
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