???: "Are you...hungry?"

With sparse breath, I forced out only three words to the whimpering beast before me. Even though my mind had been scrambled, struggling to find peace within the sudden silence of the fourth wolf's death, I could find no reason to do the same thing to the fearful fifth wolf. It seemed, to me at least, that it would never attack me ever again—not that it even got a chance to inflict a single bite.

Pale Boy: "Here...Let me get something for you...!"

I scanned my surroundings for a moment, picking up a green backpack which had been torn off of my shoulders with the raw strength of a wolf's claws—the right shoulder strap, now decimated and out of use, was quickly cut off in full by my own blade, assuming the sagging strap would only serve my detriment. I unzipped the pack's main fold, reaching through the few things I had been storing, until I revealed a container of some leftover meat.

Pale Boy: "This should be good enough..."

I popped open the container and laid it on the ground for the wolf, and then stood tall with shaky legs. Looking back to the havoc that had been wrought, there lay four dead wolves, bloodied and torn apart in various places, all long since dead—

Pale Boy: "—What?!"

No, a single wolf in the short distance seemed to be squirming, desperately grasping for life but finding nothing other than further pain. It didn't whimper or cry or howl—I don't think it could.

Pale Boy: "...No—not again...!"

Strength. Just a little bit more strength!

My footsteps grew more frequent, faster, and flawed. Rushing over to the second wolf of the slaughter, I slid to the ground with the last few steps and ended up right beside the dying wolf. All it could do was breath and reach, awaiting the darkness to come and claim it. Well, in truth, I suppose some sort of darkness did claim it.

The blade of a black dagger, upon first meeting this wolf, had punctured the many organs of the beast before its jaws finally relinquished control of my arm, allowing me to escape. Those stab wounds weren't enough to kill it quickly, unlike the first wolf's slashed throat, the third wolf's punctured skull, and the fourth wolf's multiple stabs in quick unrelenting succession. Of all of the attackers, this one would have been the only wolf to truly suffer in its final moments, whereas the rest had died far too quickly to comprehend any sort of pain.

Now, with the second meeting of the wolf, the black dagger was drawn once again. Instead of the intent to kill, this time it was drawn with the intent to rescue—though the method would be the same, nonetheless. I raised the dagger to the skies, and then with one swift motion, ended the wolf's torment.

I had seen this before, somewhere. Not too long ago, on my last hunt with a deer. Back then, I failed to properly kill my target, and as a result, it suffered and forced me to end its pain. If I was just a little bit more accurate...a little bit more considerate of where I aimed...perhaps I would never have to feel like this again—this guilt would wash away before it ever had the chance to manifest.

Pale Boy: "But now I have to live with it, because I couldn't do that."

What a cruel world this is.

Why do animals have to kill each other to feed in the first place?

If that had never been ingrained into our nature—the meat that we needed for sustenance—then perhaps I would have never had to kill the deer. Perhaps the wolves never would have found reason to try to kill me.

But that isn't the way it is.

These are the cards we are dealt.

And I do not intend to fold.

I do not intend to bluff.

I have chips awaiting my return.

I have...a whole family of chips...now out of my reach.

If I fold now, I can never win them back.

The container filled with leftover pieces of meat, close to rot on their final day of freshness, was now empty and full of nothing but wolf slobber. That wasn't a problem, in any case, so the container was packed into my bag and marked as "to clean" within my mind. The wolf, however, continued to whimper whenever I neared it. I didn't intend to harm it. I didn't intend to harm anything anymore, though I knew that eventually I would need to.

I didn't want to harm it, but it was still frightened of my presence, despite feeding it in its time of need. I don't want to harm. I could never harm it, so long as it never intended to harm me. So why would it be frightened...how do I convey my intentions?

Pale Boy: "Are you...coming with me?"

With panted breath, I gave a small smile and an outstretched hand to the terrified wolf. It seemed to think for a moment as I gave out the offer, and then, with nothing more than a small unintelligible noise, stood from the snow and trotted to my left. It looked up to me, a sense of fear still clinging to its soul, though now freed of its body's fear.

Pale Boy: "That's as good an answer as any. Let's get going, then!"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Pale Boy: "—huuuh..."

Birds. I can hear the birds.

Throughout the entire snow forest, there was an alarming lack of birds. No chirps, tweets, nor the flutter of wings—the loudest sound to be heard in that forest was that of my own footsteps. So, to finally be hearing birds now must mean that I was no longer within the forest. I was somewhere warmer, even if ever so slightly warmer; this only left one question: how?

From I remember last, I had been hunted by wolves, formed a shaky relationship with the smallest of the pack, and then—

Pale Boy: "—Am I...?"

My senses slowly came back to me as the memories flashed in my mind; first was the feeling of being awake. It was groggy, exhausting, and uncomfortable. Then came the feeling of the world around me: warm without a doubt, a rocky ground beneath the sleeping bag I laid on, and the comfort of a soft patch of fur that my head rested upon. Then the scent of reheated stew and freshly brewed tea filled the air, waking my body up even further, to the point of opening my eyes.

Then—sight. The first colors could not even be called black; the bright light of morning turned a once comforting darkness into a painful pink and red beyond my eyelids, forcing them to open up to the yellows of the light and the blues of a tent. Though blurry at first, my eyes slowly refocused into a clearer image of my surroundings, right as taste flooded my senses. Dry, dirty, tangy saliva filled my mouth—an unavoidable sensation of the morning. 

Last would have been my hearing. Although the first thing I had experienced that morning was the chirping of birds, that was all that I could hear. Nothing more, nothing less. After I could taste my own saliva, and see the tent around me, the rest of the world's soundless audio came into my brain, and—

Pale Boy: "—haaah..."

It was close enough to silence as the world could get. Light wind, skittering creatures and chirping birds, and, strangely enough, the sounds of voices in quiet conversation just outside of the tent. I could hear three girls and one boy, though ages were a lot harder for me to guess, especially in my current state of "haaah" and "huuuh"—the unusual breathing of a boy who was unable to determine the state of his own body.

And then, as if granted the gift of consciousness, I awoke.

Pale Boy: "EM!"

Thrusting upward, my body seemed to have a mind of its own; as if reaching for the ceiling, my outstretched arm stopped just before reaching anything as my own soul was given control once more.

Em? I don't know that name...

Likely the results of a nonsense dream, my scream halted the voices beyond the tent, putting the world into a deeper silence. Confusion and terror drifted in and out of my thoughts, but eventually, piecing myself back together, I focused on the most important part of this morning.

Pale Boy: "You...Did you drag me here somehow?"

A large gray wolf, curled into a ball in the back of the small tent, had been acting as a headrest for the entire night. Though I couldn't even remember passing out in the first place, it was this wolf that must have taken me to the safety of a nearby camp of people.

Pale Boy: "People? N-no, not yet."

I quickly brushed that fact away once more, focusing on the wolf and its tired expressions. It, too, was resting from a restless night. With no obligation to save my life, the animal chose to do so regardless, perhaps as a show of companionship, or gratitude. Whatever, the case, I felt an obligation of my own.

Pale Boy: "Hmmm...What about 'Riley'?"

A being, whether Human, animal, or otherwise, deserves a fitting name. Having saved my life, I saw the wolf as one such creature who deserved a proper title, and the first to come to mind was that of "Riley".

Pale Boy: "I'm sorry if it's a bit too Human-like for you, but I feel like it's gonna grow on us. For now, at least, wear it with pride."

The exhausted wolf let out a sound close enough to a sigh, and I took that as my cue to leave it—to leave him alone. Following my own sigh was a crouched stance, the unzipping of the front of the tent, and an even brighter morning light blinding my vision as I stepped into the real world, no longer protected by the thin blue fabric of the unknown shelter.

Pale Boy: "...haaaahhhahhahh..."

A weak chuckle left my throat as I saw the sky above me in clear sunlight—it was a sky of bright red, slightly translucent to the let the sun's guidance through, and seeming to shimmer with a wave of magic passing throughout the walls of the dome every so often.

Pale Boy: "This is finally it!"

The Great Barrier...I've reached it for sure, now. No doubt about it.