THEN

That year, winter began early. The red leaves of fall had come and gone from all the deciduous trees that painted the cliff sides to the north of the Foxhole, leaving only a smear of green and white of the coniferous towers that still stood between them and the snow caught on their branches. Here, on a winding path that led up the hill and through the forest, was Lucas Walker, leash in one hand and a light metal shovel in the other. He shoveled as he went up the way, scooping piles of snow and leaves and pine needles to the sides, clearing up the scattered, flat stones that laid underneath them.

When Butler, the large grey Maine Coon walking ahead of him, suddenly stopped in his tracks and Lucas felt the leash go slack, he too stopped, peering through the trees beyond the curve of the path ahead. He spied two distinct figures, rather easily when accounting for their colourful robes, but they shifted, and two pairs of folded, coal-black wings that had blended into the faraway trees were then visible. Tengu.

Lucas stuck two fingers into his mouth and blew, loosing a shrill whistle.

The two men or women turned to look at him through the trees, their expressions impossible to read at this distance. He had an idea though, and raised a gloved hand in a friendly wave.

They didn't return the gesture.

"Come on," he said to Butler, yanking the leash in the direction of the curve of their path, but not taking his eyes off the figures. "Still got a kilo or two to go."

Butler gave the tengu one last look before he turned around, his fluffy tail brushing into a pile of snow and picking some up and dropping it back on the path, which Lucas quickly swept aside.

Soon they were out of view of the yokai, and Lucas paused once more on the section of the trail where the trees receded from a rocky ledge that overlooked the valley below. His boots crunched their way across to the metal pole that was driven into the ground, and he swung open a panel on the side. Just as he had thought, the bulb inside was kaput, having burnt itself out a few nights before. He reached in and up into the transparent section on the pole, and quickly unscrewed the old light, shoving it into a pocket on his jacket’s left side, before retrieving a replacement from his backpack. It screwed directly into place, and he flicked a switch on the inside of the pole for a second, making sure the bulb shone a brilliant yellow.

Butler moved to sit at the very edge of the cliff, purring softly as he gazed down into the valley and towards the lone building with a giant orange fox tail in the clearing smack in the middle of it, walled off by chain-link fences cliff-to-cliff on either side.

“What, tired already? We’re not even halfway through yet.”

The cat turned to look at him, gave a short, curt meow and raised a paw to point at the Foxhole.

Lucas squinted, and finally spotted the figure on the roof - undoubtedly Raya - waving at them. He waved back, grinning.

The two of them sat there on the cliff’s edge, just enjoying the view for the better part of ten minutes. The previous night had brought the largest bout of snowfall since last month’s snowstorm that brought an end to autumn, and Lucas knew there was a lot more shoveling to do along the way. He ran a hand down Butler’s thick coat, before standing up, and peering along the path that wound back down the hill and towards lake Halig, trying to gauge the world he would have to do.

In the distance, a silhouette of something moved, disappearing behind a tree.

He tugged at Butler’s leash. “Hey, the faster we do this the faster you can get back to mom, okay?”

Butler purred in agreement, shaking snow off himself as he stood up.

Lucas took the next segment of the trail cautiously, watching the space between the trees in case whoever it was hadn’t gone. There was a tiny part of him, growing from all the time he’d spent here, growing complacent, that whispered to him that it was probably nothing, just an elk or something of the sort, but he disagreed. This was his land, after all, and without a way to delineate it from the surrounding national park designation, or knowing if it was just one of the yokai from the village…no, it would be foolish to trust anything. They’d had their fair share of poachers after all, some from the surrounding wilderness, some intentionally trying to abuse his perceived peaceful existence.

His hand found the grip of the semi-automatic pistol holstered behind him, and with his thumb, he flicked the strap securing it away. Keeping the gun behind him, he crept towards the treeline where he had spotted movement. Please be an animal, please be an animal, please be an animal…

Beside him, Butler was also keeping slow, keeping his footsteps light and in sync with Lucas as to not create undue noise.

He rounded the corner, and took aim with the gun now at his side, keeping it close as he moved parallel to the trees, getting a good look in between all of them.

Nothing.

Lucas sighed, the breath condensing and dispersing right in front of him, swirling slightly from the wind that blew in from across the frozen lake behind them. Butler’s tail seemed to droop, as he let out a disappointed noise halfway between a purr and a growl. “Must have been a lynx or something. I bet you could take one of those, right?” He lowered his gun.

Butler didn’t reply.

“You can-” He spotted Butler staring at something in the distance, the hairs on his back standing straight up, and raised his weapon again, pointing it in the general direction of the threat.

On another cliff, jutting out north of the lake, what was clearly a person ducked away from the ledge.

Lucas crouched down, drew the knife from his boot and passed it to Butler, who took it in his mouth by the handle with the blade outwards. “Find a way up left. I’ll go up right, we’ll catch them in the middle.”

Butler made a muffled noise in affirmation, and shot off into the trees like a bullet.

The light jog to the bottom of the cliff for Lucas took a lot longer than he had thought, but as he pressed himself against the rock face, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He kept the pistol angled a little upwards towards the edge, and inched up the path that turned up the side of the hill. When the ledge was close, he dropped into a crouch, scooted a little closer, and then stood up over his cover, aiming directly in front.

The plateau was empty. Lucas mumbled under his breath, and mantled onto the flat area, sweeping his aim across the treeline above. His gaze finally settled on footprints, rectangular and flat, leading into the trees from something that was on the very edge. Refocusing on the thing that seemed half-buried in the snow, he took a few steps towards it, and-

He spun around at a soft noise behind him, only to find Butler creeping out of the trees to the side, knife still in his mouth. The cat shook his head, looking along the footprints that went away from the scene.

Lucas reeled himself in, and went back to poke at the lump in the snow with his foot. It was hard as a rock, and as he soon found out by planting his foot on it, was much colder than the rest of the snow around it; and that was concerning, considering it was negative ten degrees out this time of the year.

With the shovel he was still holding, he tapped at the lump, resulting in the shovel just ringing out. He then turned it in his hand, and began to scrape the snow off, uncovering…a hand.

He did a double take, almost falling over backwards. “Fuck!” he hissed, and gave the treeline an extra sweep with his gun in case whoever was responsible stuck around. After a whole minute, and gaining confidence he wasn’t being watched, he went back to the body, tapping the hand once more with the shovel. It was like banging against solid stone, and there seemed to be no real tissue damage either, which meant the temperature had dropped faster than ice crystals had time to form.

“Fuck.” He started scraping away the rest of the snow. The dead man - that much was obvious - was frozen in a horrific pose, his eyes wide and his hands clawed up and raised in front of him. The legs weren’t in any kind of standing pose, meaning it had happened while he was on the ground. His mouth was gaped open in a scream, and yet Lucas hadn't heard anything. This elevation, in this direction, and the sound should have carried to where he and Butler had been an entire half hour ago.

This was fresh, and this was intentional. He produced his phone tapped in a number, and held it to his ear.

“Hi!” Raya said. There was faint background chatter, probably patrons at the bar. “Are you coming back around yet? Is Butler behaving?”

“There’s a problem. Listen, I need you to call the Marshal.”

“The Marshal?” she asked, confused. He didn’t blame her; they’d been avoiding the man ever since they set up here. “What for?”

“There’s a corpse up here. Frozen. I’ll message you my coordinates.”

“Shit. Any idea who?”

“No but…I think I almost ran into whoever did it.” He glanced at the trees one more time, as if expecting the responsible party to reveal themselves despite logic telling him otherwise.

“Not PD?”

“The Marshal’s gonna want to come out here fast. And he knows us, even if he doesn’t like us.”

“Ah. Do…do you have to stay out there?”

“Until he gets here at least. I’ll be fine. I don’t think whoever did this was expecting me. I doubt they’ll come back.”

“Just stay safe, please.”

“I’ll do my best. Love you.” He hung up, and stared down at the dead man’s anguished expression.

Little did he know, it was about to get much, much more complicated.