THE DIREHOUND AND THE CHILD

  Drak shivered in the early morning hours, the cold late-autumn air seeping through his bedroll like water creeping into cracks. The biting chill was rattling his bones so bad that they felt like they’d turn to ice. What was I thinking? he wondered, setting out on a journey like this with winter creeping closer. Nearby, he could hear Nalli's deep, rhythmic breathing as she slept, seemingly unbothered by the temperature, her thick fur a natural shield. Lucky direhound…

  Another tremorous shiver wracked through him. At this rate, there was no chance he’d get any sleep. His gaze drifted to Nalli, her massive shape curled up comfortably. Maybe, just maybe…

  Reluctantly, Drak pulled himself up, lifting his bedroll off the ground as quietly as he could. He edged closer to her, careful with every step. Nalli’s ears twitched at the soft crunch of his boots against the frosty ground, but she remained still.

  Just as he reached her side, her calm voice cut through the cold air. “I hear you scurrying about. What is wrong?”

  Drak froze for a second, feeling a little foolish, but the persistent chill in his bones gave him no real choice. “I’m... cold,” he admitted, his voice small and betraying more embarrassment than he cared to admit.

  Nalli stirred slightly, lifting her head from her claws. She peered at him through half-lidded eyes, her fur shifting as she moved. Was the human seriously considering seeking warmth from her? After all they’d been through in the past few days, it wasn’t that surprising. He’d already spent hours on her back during the day, clinging to her during their travels. It wasn’t like him resting beside her now would make much of a difference.

  With a soft huff of resignation, she shifted her arm just enough to give him room. “Come on then,” she muttered, the tone in her voice neither irritated nor particularly inviting.

  Drak’s heart gave a relieved thump. “T-Thanks,” he chattered as he laid his bedroll down beside her and gingerly settled against her side. The warmth radiating from her fur was immediate, wrapping around him like a blanket and chasing away the bitter cold that had gripped him for hours.

  Nalli sighed softly as she felt the light pressure of his body against her side. She could have scoffed at the situation. Here she was, sharing her warmth with a human, of all things. Though, strangely, it didn’t bother her. If Drak was cold, well, then he was cold. They were partners now, after all. An odd pair, but partners nonetheless.

  As her eyes drifted shut again, Nalli felt an unwonted sense of... contentment. She hadn’t expected to feel that, not here, not with a human, no less. Yet there it was.

  Drak nestled himself against Nalli's warm side and the tension in his body began to ease. The relentless chill that had gnawed at him faded, replaced by the gentle heat radiating from her fur. His muscles relaxed as his breathing eventually evened, and the exhaustion from the long day of travel coupled with the bitter cold, finally claimed him. Sleep overtook him quickly, a deep, dreamless slumber. Wrapped in Nalli's warmth, the soft rhythm of her breathing lulled him into the peaceful quiet of the night.

  ***

  They were jolted awake just before dawn by the sharp, staccato sound of popping, followed by the hiss of something scorching-hot sizzling.

  Drak and Nalli blinked awake, the acrid scent of smoke and steam stinging their noses as it polluted the crisp, early morning air. Nalli’s lips curled into a low growl, while Drak scrambled to his feet, alarmed by the chaos unfolding nearby.

  “What in Ardrealion…” Drak muttered, rubbing his eyes where he stood, still shaky from the abrupt awakening. His eyes lingered lazily towards the source of the disturbance behind them. A plume of dark smoke twisted into the dark morning sky from the hole in the roof of Irongear's workshop, and the faint, pulsing orange glow of fire reflected in the windows, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of water being hastily sprayed.

  Irongear’s irritated shouts echoed within, his voice harsh and angry, followed by more hissing of steam as the fire inside was extinguished. Whatever he'd been working on had gone catastrophically wrong.

  “Sounds like he's put it out,” Drak said, glancing at Nalli, who still stood tense, her nostrils flaring from the pungent concoction of smoke and steam.

  Nalli's growl softened, but she kept a wary eye on the workshop. “Reasons like these are why I do not trust human machines,” she muttered, her voice tinged with disdain. “You meddle with things unnaturally.”

  Drak couldn't help but chuckle, though it was half-hearted. “Yeah, well, neither do I when they’re exploding at dawn.” He turned to her, shrugging as he stretched out his arms. “Should we check on him? He might need a hand.”

  Nalli huffed but nodded, her gaze still fixed on the workshop. “You can, if you absolutely must. I doubt I will be sleeping any longer after that racket.”

  Together, they moved toward Irongear's shop, the smell of smoke and burnt metal thick in the early morning air, the remnants of the fire still lingering.

  Drak glanced over at Nalli, offering a reassuring smile. “Stay here,” he said, raising his hand as if to hold her back. “I'll check on the inventor. And no more windows for you this time,” he added to drive the point home, a smirk curling at the edges of his lips.

  Nalli huffed, her eyes narrowing, but she crouched back on her haunches, watching as Drak made his way toward Irongear’s back door.

  Drak knocked with his knuckles before pushing the door open. “Mr. Irongear? You still in one piece?” he called out, stepping into the cluttered workshop. Within, the thick haze of smoke and burning metal made the air almost unbreathable. He pressed his sleeve against his face, trying to block out the worst of it, but the acrid stench still wormed its way in. Inside, he found the old inventor furiously gathering hot shards of metal from the floor, his curses filling the room.

  Drak blinked at the remnants of a fire that had just been extinguished in the center of the space. “Everything okay?” he asked, watching as Watson Irongear continued to mutter under his breath, not yet noticing Drak.

  Irongear finally looked up, still red-faced and grumbling. “Grab the tongs from over there, boy!” he snapped, waving a hand toward a cluttered workbench.

  Drak found the tongs amid the chaos and handed them over, keeping his distance from the still-smoldering mess. Irongear grabbed them and began to pick up the remaining red-hot pieces of metal, his curses continuing unabated.

  After a few more heated moments of grumbling and banging metal, Irongear finally straightened up, the last of the fiery remnants clinking into a metal bucket. “Damnable thing,” he muttered, wiping his brow, clearly still fuming.

  Drak stepped closer to the workbench, eyeing the scattered pieces of metal strewn about. Whatever Irongear had been working on, it was now unrecognizable. All that remained were just bits of twisted, molten scrap and charred components. He scratched his head, tilting his head curiously. “So… what was this supposed to be?”

  Irongear scoffed, shooting Drak a sidelong glance. “Why should I tell you? You wouldn’t understand half of it,” he grumbled, still clearly reeling from the explosion.

  Drak, unfazed, kept his gaze forward. “No, sir. I might not, but I’m interested. It’s gotta be something impressive, right?”

  The old inventor paused, glancing at Drak again. This time, he noticed the genuine curiosity in the young man’s face, and his scowl softened, just a little. With a grunt, Irongear crossed his arms over his soot-streaked vest. “It’s supposed to be a new tool, something that uses superheated gasses to cut through metal like butter. It would be a transformation for the metal-workers if I could get the damn thing to stay in one piece. But instead, it keeps overheating—destroying itself before it ignites the gas reserves and explodes in my hands.”

  Drak's eyes widened, clearly impressed. “Sounds like it could cut through anything if it worked.”

  Irongear grumbled in agreement, looking back at the smoking wreckage. “Yeah, well, that’s the idea. Only problem is, it cuts through itself too,” he said dryly, kicking one of the still-smoking pieces of metal across the floor with a frustrated sigh.

  Drak smiled at Irongear, trying to offer some form of reassurance. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Maybe you just need to find a way to protect the device from, you know, cutting through itself. Like a shield of some sort, maybe.”

  Irongear froze for a moment, his eyes squinting as the words sank in. Slowly, the inventor's bushy brows furrowed in thought. “Huh... protect the device from its own flame…” he muttered under his breath. A spark of realization lit up his eyes, and he let out a small, gruff chuckle. “Well, I’ll be damned. Maybe there’s something to that. I’ve been focusing on making the material thicker and I hadn’t yet considered other options.” He glanced at Drak, a rare smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You might have just given me something to think about, boy. I may be able to line the nozzle with a heat resistant plating. The potential is brilliant, but it will need testing. You have more of your uncle in you than I thought.”

  Drak shrugged, his smile widening. “Glad I could help.”

  Irongear gave a final glance to the wreckage and then turned back to Drak. “I’ve got the rest of the cleanup from here. What about you, Garvin’s nephew? What’s your plan?”

  Drak shifted slightly, his face growing serious. He had to take a moment to think on what he should say. Honesty was always the best policy, he'd learned that much while confiding in his uncle back at Ridgewell Aeronautics. Except, Nalli's secret was still a secret, and he didn't know if she would appreciate him revealing everything to just anyone about her goals. He decided to skew the reality instead. “Nalli and I… we’re heading to the Eastern provinces... near the Frontier.”

  Irongear's eyes widened in surprise. “The Frontier?” He crossed his arms, nodding thoughtfully. “Dangerous place, that. But with that direhound of yours…” He glanced out the door where Nalli waited, the large shadow of her immense body shifting impatiently in the early morning light. “Well, I'm sure you'll be fine.”

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  Drak wasn't convinced.

  Irongear patted Drak on the shoulder, his voice losing some of its usual grumpiness. “Listen, kid, I don’t know your plan, but you’ll be alright. Keep your wits about you, though. The Frontier doesn’t play nice with anyone,” he said, then added, “Much safer than the Eastwood Forest, at least.”

  Drak swallowed hard, but then gave a grateful nod.

  As they walked to the door, Irongear’s tone softened a bit more. “Before you head out of town, stop by the market. A fresh delivery of food and supplies should be in today. Trade Day is the busiest part of the week for Solace, but if you’re heading to the Frontier, you’re going to need all the help you can get.”

  Drak smiled and nodded. “We will. Thanks for the advice.”

  Irongear gave a final grunt of approval as Drak stepped out into the cool air, where Nalli waited. “I’ll be reaching out to your uncle, Garvin, with my official answer today,” the inventor's voice carried after him with a hint of finality. “I’ll be sure he knows that you received his gifts proper.”

  Drak nodded, appreciating the gesture. “Thanks again, Mr. Irongear.”

  With a wave of his hand, Irongear turned back toward the workshop. “Good luck, kid,” he muttered, retreating into the dimly lit shop. The door creaked shut behind him, leaving Drak and Nalli alone in the quiet morning air, the faint smell of smoke still lingering as they prepared for the next step in their journey.

  Drak and Nalli spent the next half hour preparing for the trek ahead. With less than practiced hands, Drak placed the harness and saddle back on Nalli. The process was moderately smoother than before now that they were starting to get the hang of it. Each strap was fastened securely, and the saddle sat comfortably on her broad back.

  “I think we're getting faster at this,” Drak said with a small grin, tightening the last buckle. Nalli grumbled while her tail flicked, but she remained still, letting him work.

  The morning sun rose higher as he finished. Drak stepped back and adjusted his pack, the weight of the loaded coin purse sitting snugly at his side. He patted it absentmindedly, feeling the comforting heft of his uncle's generous contribution. He’d counted it. Over thirty gold crowns and a moderate supply of silver. It would be more than enough to support them on their journey eastward, and Drak was eager to make sure they were properly supplied. I should make sure to send Uncle Garvin a thank you letter, he thought, gratefully.

  Drak looked up at Nalli. She was humming with amusement. “You heard everything, didn’t you?” He asked. Nalli gave a simple grin, her two large canines flashing. “Uh-huh. Thought so,” Drak concluded. “Before we head out, I think we should follow Irongear's advice and stop by the market,” he told Nalli, glancing in her direction. “Pick up more food and supplies. It’s better to be prepared.”

  Nalli let out a low huff, turning her head to look at him with a spark of excitement in her eyes. “Or… you could just hunt,” she suggested, her tail thumping on the earth eagerly behind her. “Forget your tradesmen. Track your own prey, skin it, cook it. Relying on others for supplies is boresome. You should be honing your instincts, like I do.”

  Drak blinked, caught off guard by her sudden enthusiasm. He considered her suggestion, the thought of hunting for his meals did seem to stimulate something primal within him. “Hunt?” he repeated, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean… I’ve trapped some occasional pests before, but never hunted.”

  “You should try it,” Nalli pressed, her voice full of eagerness. “There is nothing like catching fresh game, human. It is real survival, not just buying what you need from a market stall with no honor.” She shifted her weight, clearly excited by the idea of Drak hunting alongside her.

  Drak chuckled softly, thinking it over. The idea wasn’t bad. Learning to rely on his own skills, with his own hands, might make this journey more fulfilling, not to mention financially feasible. “You know… you might have a point,” he admitted, glancing toward the forest in the distance. “Maybe I'll give it a try. You aren’t cheap to feed.”

  Nalli let out a low, amused growl, clearly pleased with his response. “I say, that is a bite without a sting.”

  Drak, however, still planned to visit the market, just in case. Although, he couldn’t deny the appeal of proving himself in the wild, and Nalli’s encouragement only fueled that growing thought.

  He continued, explaining to Nalli that for now, they’ll still stock up at the market. “We can't risk running out of supplies too early,” he said, patting the coin pouch for reassurance.

  Nalli rolled her eyes, but added firmly, “Just don’t take too long. We need to get moving. Piunngituk Silatsuak won't wait.”

  Drak agreed and clambered up as Nalli knelt down, allowing him to mount her shoulders with more ease. Once settled, he took a moment to glance back at Irongear’s workshop, where a slight plume of smoke still curled up from the open roof. The old inventor truly was a wild one, but Drak couldn’t help but feel a small sense of admiration. He hoped Irongear and his uncle Garvin could set aside their differences and work together. Who knows what those two can accomplish? Drak pondered.

  Turning his thoughts back to the journey, Drak urged Nalli forward, and they headed down Old Cog Road toward Solace's bustling city center. The town was already alive with activity, vendors called out, carts rattled down the streets, and the scent of freshly baked bread mingled with the morning air.

  As they approached the marketplace, Nalli slowed. Her ears flicked as she scanned the growing crowds of people, her posture stiffening at the sight of so many humans bustling around, all a fraction of her size. She hesitated as a low growl rumbled in her throat.

  Drak leaned forward, noticing her tension. “It’s fine, Nalli. They’re just... humans.” He said with a reassuring pat on her fur. “We’ll be quick.”

  Nalli snapped back at Drak, her voice sharp. "It’s not about them being human. I don’t want to break any of them if they get under my claws!" Her ears flattened as her eyes scanned the crowd again, unease creeping into her posture.

  Drak realized her concern. Of course. She hadn’t been around this many people before, and trying to navigate through a packed square, towering over them all, had to be daunting. He glanced down at the busy marketplace, the sea of people scurrying from one stall to another, oblivious to the direhound's size and strength.

  Leaning closer to her, he whispered, “Take your time, Nalli. Just watch your footing. Most of them should move aside... I hope.” His attempt at consolation was half-hearted, but it was all he had.

  Nalli snorted, not entirely convinced, but she began moving forward, carefully placing her massive paws with caution, doing her best to avoid stepping on anyone.

  Navigating the crowds was a slow and awkward process. Almost every pair of eyes in the courtyard turned toward them, giving the pair far more public attention than either of them felt comfortable with. Children pointed up in wide-eyed wonder, while adults gawked or stepped quickly out of Nalli's path. The people parted, giving the massive direhound and her rider a wide berth, though some threw looks of dismay and disbelief as they passed. Drak noticed it all but kept his chin up, trying to look as though this was the most perfectly normal occurrence in the world.

  Drak did his best to stand up straight and appear as though he knew what he was doing. When they finally managed to break through the thickest part of the crowd and reach the market stalls, Drak leaned down, gently patting Nalli's shoulder. “You’re doing well,” he whispered, hoping to offer her some comfort. He could feel the tension in her muscles from the close quarters, but she was handling it with surprising patience.

  He scanned the stalls, his focus quickly landing on the meat merchant at the far end. “See the stall with the blue tarp?” he murmured, nodding in the direction of the vendor. “Let me down there.”

  Nalli grumbled softly and closed the distance between themselves and the marchant’s stall. Once there, she lowered her body, but Drak performed an unexpected leap off her back. He landed hard on his feet with a thud, the shock traveling through his new boots and up his legs, but he straightened himself quickly. “Careful with those jumps,” she muttered, eyeing him with mild concern.

  Drak shrugged it off with a wry grin. “Gotta look like I know what I’m doing, right?” he replied, attempting to sound confident.

  Nalli scoffed but remained where she was, her silhouette tense as more people seemed to take notice of them. “Well, get on with it,” she said, her voice low. “All of their staring isn’t helping.” Drak nodded, glancing back before heading up to the merchant.

  He greeted the man with a polite nod, exchanging pleasantries just long enough to avoid drawing more attention, and paid quickly for an ample stash of cured and smoked meats that would last a few days. Just as the man finished packing them away, the merchant’s eyes went wide, staring over Drak’s shoulder. He stammered, pointing toward Nalli, “A—a child… your direhound…”

  Drak spun around, his heart skipping a beat. A young girl, no older than four or five, was toddling right toward Nalli, her arms stretched out in wonder.

  To Drak's utter astonishment, the child stopped directly in front of Nalli, gazing up with wide eyes filled with innocent curiosity. Nalli, though visibly tense, held herself still, her focus locked on the young girl. Her entire form seemed poised and cautious, yet there was an undeniable gentleness in the way she then lowered herself to the child’s level, her golden eyes fluttering as she observed the little human.

  Around them, nervous murmurs swept through the crowd as people watched, captivated, and perhaps a bit anxious, wondering what would unfold.

  The child, who was unfazed by the size and wild presence of the direhound, reached forward and rubbed the top of Nalli’s snout, her small fingers brushing through the soft fur. She let out a delighted giggle, then turned and darted back through the crowd, shouting, “Momma, momma! I petted a direhound!”

  Drak felt his whole body relax as he let out a heavy sigh, relief washing over him as he looked up at Nalli, who was still kneeling, watching the girl disappear into the throng.

  Nalli turned her head toward Drak, her eyes glinting with something unspoken. Amusement? No, it wasn’t quite that. There was a depth to it, a quiet thoughtfulness that Drak couldn’t put into words. Before he could ask, the merchant coughed behind him, reminding him of his purchase.

  Snapping back to the present, Drak quickly gathered the smoked meats and other goods, thanked the merchant, and carried them over to Nalli. She remained still, her eyes never leaving him, that same glint still present.

  As Drak secured the rations onto the saddle, tying them down tightly, he finally broke the silence. “That was kind of risky, you know? How did you know the girl—or the crowd, for that matter—wouldn’t get scared?”

  Nalli blinked slowly, her luminous yellow eyes catching the morning light as she looked directly at him. “Take it as truth or let it fade, I can sense the intentions of others through their scent,” she said evenly. “The same way I could tell you meant me no harm back at your vineyard.”

  Drak paused, his hands resting on the saddle frame. “Scent? Like emotions or…?”

  “Intentions,” Nalli clarified. “Fear, aggression, curiosity—it’s all in the minute ways a creature smells. That little one? All I could sense was wonder and a bit of bravery. She wasn’t afraid of me, so I saw no reason to be afraid of her.”

  Drak nodded, impressed. “That’s… pretty incredible.”

  Nalli let out a quiet huff. “It’s survival. For both our kind.”

  She waited in silence for a moment before continuing, her gaze drifting toward where the child had disappeared into the crowd. “Though I’ll admit… I was curious about her. Small. Fragile. Yet filled with so much wonder.” Nalli’s voice softened, almost as if she were speaking more to herself. “She was… cute.”

  Drak guffawed, caught off guard. “Cute? You think humans are cute now?”

  “Not humans,” Nalli corrected, her voice sharpening slightly before settling again. “Just her. She was different. Innocent, maybe. Not like the others in their number who were staring at me like I am some kind of monster.”

  Drak grinned. “Well, if you’re going to win over a human crowd, starting with the kids isn’t a bad idea.”

  Nalli rolled her eyes but didn’t respond, her focus shifting back to the bustling marketplace. Drak could see a flicker of new substance in her expression, a synonymous mixture of thoughtfulness and intrigue. For all her wariness of humans, maybe there was a part of her beginning to understand them, too.

  Drak rested his hand on the saddle frame, his gaze distant. “You know,” he began, his voice softer than usual, “I know I've mentioned it before, but really I’d like to see your home someday. To see what direhound culture is like.”

  Nalli turned her head, her bright yellow eyes locking onto his. A rare, quiet smile formed on her angular face, filled with a warmth that was almost out of character. “If you survive the days ahead, perhaps you will,” she said softly, her voice carrying an inkling of something deeper. It might have been hope, or maybe longing.

  For a moment, they stayed like that, silent amidst the hum of the marketplace. The world moved around them, oblivious to the moment shared between the two.

  Finally, Nalli broke the silence, her tone shifting back to its usual briskness. “Come, climb up. I've had enough of cramped human settlements. We’ve got a long way to go.”

  Drak nodded and climbed into the saddle. He secured his pack between his legs, giving one last check to make sure the newly purchased supplies were fastened properly to the saddle’s frame. Once satisfied, he gave Nalli a light pat, signaling he was ready.

  “Alright,” he said, pointing toward the eastern horizon. “Let’s move out.”

  With a steady gait, Nalli wove through the streets, the crowd parting as they passed. The noise and chaos of the market gradually faded behind them, replaced by the quiet hum of the road ahead. Together, with the supplies they needed in hand, they crossed the city’s edge, the delivered letter for Watson Irongear behind them, and the vast expanse of the unknown stretching out in front of them.

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  A

  AkKalajuks – Ants

  Anniasuitik – Shaman of Medicine

  Anirnaq – The First Direhounds

  Anirniq – Soul

  Anga – Yes

  Atsinguak – Gift

  Auka – No

  I

  Ijik – Eye(s)

  Ikialuit! – Damnit or damn you, depending on phrasing.

  Ilisimaik – Craziness

  Ipatsik – Understand

  Ipvit – You

  K

  Kaijuuti – Coyote Tribe

  Kakiannangituk – Unpleasant

  Kavinguak – Much noise

  Kulgoskarrik – A lizard, known for dropping its tail when frightened with a sudden loud burst

  Kutsutak – Yellow

  Kuviasotikak – Ridiculous

  M

  Mitappuk(s) – Joke(s)

  N

  Nakummek – Thank you

  Nalligik – Love(s)

  Nokel-katantik – Honorable

  Nuni Lunikk – Moon Mother

  Nunivak – Pick berries

  Nutaqq – Child

  O

  Omajualuk – Monster

  P

  Paunngak – Berries

  Pattangaititsik – Protecting

  Piujuk – Good

  Piunngituk Silatsuak – Bad Earth

  Pijagia-keh – Different

  Pilluak – Smart, clever, skillful

  Pitsatujuk – Powerful

  Q

  Qilakpaangut – sky-eyed wanderer who flies like a startled birdling

  Qimmit – Dog (or like a dog)

  S

  IkKumanngituk – Stupid

  Siku – Ice

  Siitani – Star cycles, or revolutions around the sun

  Sungittotanuk – A symbol

  T

  Tatannamek – Amazed / How Fascinating!

  Takutsuapuk – Kindness

  Tatsika Napattulik – The Darkened Forest

  Tillia-Kattak – Vermin (More than one meaning?)

  Tikatsiak – Strong twine

  U

  Ukalik – Hare

  Ukausik – Language of Direhounds

  Ukiuq – Winter

  Ullak – Morning

  Nalligik-Paunngak Kutsutak-Ijik (Nalli) – Love(s) Berries Yellow-Eyes

  Akkitu-kumik Taggana-Tak (Umbra) – Soft-Scratch Shadow-Side

  (Uvaguk or Uvak)-kaik sollu pitsiak. Pik sivo-ganik – (We or I) Come as kin. Do not fear.

  Sakkik sollu pitsiak! Ipvut napaq kunulik… Amarik! – Appear as kin! But stand with… enemy!

  Qamut qimmit! Pilluq! – Cowardly dogs! Move!

  Sunas pait mittsikappuk, atiq? – What is your real/true name?

  Nuti Nannguk Kunnak – Great Fault of Kunnak

  Takutsuapuk aje atsinguak – Kindness is a treasure

  ? Tyler Tkach. All rights reserved.

  Vine & Fang posted for free reading. Redistribution prohibited.