Snow Melt

Trapped

1 Rahmat 164 B.E. – Sunday June 24, 2007 10:10:24 AM PDT

Wolf Runner stood on the edge of the snowfield, watching the full moon rise over Mount Sanctuary. Behind him he could hear the pack on the prowl, the alpha male was howling calling his companions to the scent of fleeing prey. Runner knew that he couldn’t hid his scent from the pack, any more than he could hide his sin from the Star Clan.

Stepping into the snow, he heard it crunch and felt its icy cold penetrate his bare feet. Runner had always wondered why the snowfield began precisely nine miles from the mountain. However, he had never received a satisfactory explanation from either the Shaman or the Wise Women of the tribe. They always said that it was the Creator’s will and that he shouldn’t ask such questions, that he should accept it on faith alone.

There was very little that Wolf Runner could accept on faith alone without asking why. Indeed, even the concept of accepting a practice without question was beyond his understanding. The Creator had given his tribe and the other tribes’ minds and souls. Why weren’t they supposed to use them? Why were they expected to accept without question the beliefs and practices of their ancestors?

“Perhaps,” he said as he paused at the edge of a snow free trial. “That is what led me to sin.”

As he stepped onto the path, Runner remembered the advice of his mentor Gray Snail. Snail had always said, “When you come upon an unknown path in the woods, always go to the right because the left path always leads to evil.” Looking right, Runner saw that it led back the way he came. When he looked left, the path pointed straight to the foot of the mountain that was his only salvation within 100 miles.

After an hour, he came to a huge rock and a path spit. One fork going right and the other left, with the mountain, its crest covered with snow, lying directly behind the rock. Runner looked at the markings on the rock, but none of them gave any indication as to which fork he could use. He started to turn left, but stopped suddenly. A thought penetrated his forehead and entered his mind “Runner, take the other fork.” Where the though had came from he didn’t know, but he knew from experience that he should follow its advice.

Taking the right fork, Runner hurried toward the mountain. On either side of the path, surrounded by snow, roses and hyacinths bloomed. As he inhaled their fragrance, memories of his mother returned. Her words and stories flooded his mind. One story especially haunted him; it was the saga of his people’s arrival on the planet.

Runner’s mother had always told him the story in private. She never spoke of it when others were present, she even warned him not to tell anyone else about the story. One day his father, accompanied by his wolf-hunting companion, had walked into the tent when she was telling it. Runner’s father was infuriated; he struck his wife knocking her across the tent. Then he commanded the wolf to attack her. Runner screamed and cried as the creature tore his mother apart. “Shut up,” his father said hitting the six year old. “She sinned, she spoke of forbidden knowledge. That story only a Shaman or Wise Woman should tell you when you reach manhood. Then it should never be spoken of again outside the temple.”

The path ended at a wall of stone, Runner reached out his hand and touched the stone. It was as solid as the path beneath his feet. Behind him, he heard the howl of a wolf, turning he saw his half brother’s hunting companion, followed by the rest of the pack, advancing on him. Trapped between the stonewall and the pack, Runner drew his dagger and placed his back against the stone. As the wolf charged, the wall moved causing him to fall backwards onto a tile floor and the stone moved back into place before the wolf could reach Runner.

“So you finally came,” said a Raven-haired woman helping Runner to his feet. “I’ve been waiting a year for you!”

“You are?”

“I’m Silver Moon and what’s your name?”

“You’ve been waiting for me a year and you don’t know my name!”

“I haven’t been waiting for you as an individual,” she smiled leading him to a table with two chairs. “I’ve been waiting for a man to come through the wall. The Guardians of Sanctuary said I couldn’t advance deeper into the mountain without a mate. They said that if I was patient one would eventually be provided for me.”

“I’m Wolf Runner of the Star Clan, what’s the name of your tribe?”

“The Tribe of the Third Moon, but I don’t think tribal affiliations matter in Sanctuary.”