LACK OF EXPERIENCE

  A full week had passed since Drak and Nalli departed Solace. Each day was long and arduous, especially for Drak’s rear end. Though the journey had slowly become easier as time progressed. His muscles were sore, but not in the same punishing way they had been when they first set out. He was getting used to the rhythm of the road, from the way his body moved with Nalli’s gait, to the shifting of weight as she maneuvered through trails and uneven ground.

  They’d passed plenty of country folk and traders in their travels, each time earning reactions that ranged from fear, to suspicion, and to sheer awe. Drak felt a great sense of satisfaction in their expressions. His lips often twitched upwards into a smirk when some farmer or merchant gawked at them. Nalli had even started carrying herself with an aura of smugness that only a free direhound like her could pull off. Her ears would often perk at the way humans instinctively stepped aside when she passed. After all, a direhound wasn't just something to be respected... It was something to be feared.

  During the long hours, they talked. Drak would press Nalli more with questions about her culture, his curiosity bordering on unrelenting. Naturally, he’d begun asking about her language, eager to piece together more of her world.

  Nalli explained that direhounds had no alphabet. They possessed no written script to transcribe their words in the ways that humans did. Instead, their language was purely spoken, each and every word unique by representing a specific thing, emotion, or place. When they needed to record something, they used pictures instead, like hand-drawn paintings that conveyed ideas through symbols rather than letters. A single mark could represent an entire phrase or concept, brought down and understood through untold generations of tradition. It fascinated Drak, who tried to imagine what his own language might look like if it were in painted form.

  “Auka,” Nalli told him, meant no, while Anga meant yes. Their destination, Piunngituk Silatsuak, was less of a name and more of a description, translating directly to Bad Earth.

  Drak attempted to commit each new word to memory, repeating them back carefully.

  “Qimmit,” Nalli added, “means dog. Or something like a dog.” She smirked. “Like you.”

  Drak scowled. “Uh-huh. If anyone’s like a dog, it’s you.” Though, he made the connection from the book he’d glossed over at the Tribute Memorial Library.

  Nalli merely let out a chuff of amusement before continuing.

  “Anirniq,” she said, her voice coming more solemn now, “is a soul. The breath of life.”

  Drak tilted his head. “Is that like a ghost, or a spirit?”

  She rocked her head from side to side as she pondered how to phrase it. “When we die, our Anirniq is carried away by the wind to be reunited with the great Moon Mother above.”

  The meaning of her words sank between them. For a moment, Drak had no clever response. He simply nodded. So it is like a spirit...

  They continued like this for hours, practicing word after word and phrase after phrase. Siku, meant ice. Ukiuk, meant winter. Nutaqq, meant child. Each syllable was somewhat hard to pronounce and felt foreign in his mouth, but Nalli was a patient teacher, and corrected his pronunciation when he stumbled. It was beginning to dawn on him that her language wasn’t just a way of speaking. It was how direhounds saw the world.

  At the end of each day, they would make camp in quiet, secluded places, forming the semblance of a normal routine. Drak would roll out his bedroll and attempt to sleep through the bitter chill, but by the third night, he’d given in to Nalli’s wordless invitation to sleep beside her. She was a furnace of warmth despite her occasional mittapuks, or jokes. Yet another word he’d been swift to learn. Though she jested about rolling over him in the night, she never did. He slept soundly in the encapsulating heat of her presence, all the while eternally grateful for it when the winds picked up.

  Now, as the first light of dawn edged through the humble glave of trees where they had chosen to set up camp, Drak crouched beside the flickering flames of the fire he had started, rubbing his hands together. He blew on them as the warmth began to seep into his fingers. The crisp morning air clung to his skin, biting through his new outfit regardless of the fire’s growing embers. Behind him, he could hear the scratching sound of Nalli stretching, her claws digging into the dirt as she let out a deep, whining yawn from her great mouth.

  "A fire, so soon in the day?" she muttered. Her voice was thick with sleep.

  Drak huffed once more into his hands while shifting closer to the flames. "Yeah, well, not all of us come with built-in insulation."

  Nalli gave an amused chortle as she padded towards him, shaking out her thick mane of fur. "It is not my fault you humans are born all naked and helpless, like little hairless varmints," she said, settling down beside him cross-legged. "What good is it to have fur only on your head?"

  Drak rolled his eyes, ignoring the way she smirked at him. "Some of us look good with just hair on our heads, thank you very much," he shot back.

  Nalli swept her tail across the ground, her status completely unmoved. "Debatable."

  Shaking his head, Drak shrugged off her teasing and riffled through his pack. It took him a moment, but he eventually retrieved the map of Ardraelion. He unfolded it over his lap, smoothing out its creases with his hands. "I’m not great at reading these things, but we're making good time. I’m just guessing, but only a few more days, and I think we'll be at the foothills."

  He glanced upwards through the trees at the nearby Frostpire Mountains rising to the north, their frosty, jagged peaks still wrapped up in the pale light of dawn. Drak wagered, if they kept up this pace, their towering, looming presence would be a forgotten memory behind them.

  Nalli angled her head and flicked an ear in consideration. "If we don’t run into any trouble, yes."

  Drak scoffed. "Why do you say that, like trouble has been following us?"

  Nalli’s lips curved faintly, a rumble of amusement in her throat. “For me, it usually does,” she said, then looked toward the winding trail ahead. “Still… I will admit, crossing through human land is fast. Much faster than navigating through the Nightmoon Veil. Even with this—” she gestured idly to her side, where her sutures showed—“I could run for days there and cover less than half the distance we’ve managed here.”

  Drak raised a brow. “That’s almost a compliment.”

  Her tail gave a lazy flick. “Don’t let it go to your head, human. I said faster, not better.”

  Drak chuckled under his breath as he rolled the map back up. “I’ll take what I can get.”

  Nalli’s yellow eyes shifted toward him, still as unreadable as ever. "Every new trail can present hidden dangers, Drak."

  He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. She wasn’t wrong. So far, they’d been lucky. The only travelers they’d passed were simple farm folk like him and the occasional steam-carriage. He knew, however, their luck couldn’t last forever.

  For now, though, his biggest concern was food. The rations they’d bought in Solace weren’t going to last forever, and with Nalli's impressive appetite to match, they needed to stretch them as far as possible. Which meant he needed to seriously consider the direhound’s earlier proposal about hunting for sustenance himself.

  He glanced over again at Nalli, who was now sprawled out on her side comfortably near the fire in languid laziness as her palm supported her enormous head. She was picking at a bit of dirt beneath her clawed nailbeds before flicking whatever it was into the fire and running a hand over her muzzle. It was almost comical how at ease she looked. It’s as if she doesn’t have a care in the world, he thought. Meanwhile, he was stuck trying to figure out how to keep them both fed.

  "You mentioned it before, but how good are you at hunting?" he asked, keeping a watch on her out of the corner of his eye.

  Nalli let out an amused huff. "I am a direhound. Hunting isn’t just a way of life, human. It is in our blood."

  "Great," Drak said, standing up and dusting off the fire’s ash from his pants. "Then you can teach me."

  Nalli blinked at him incredulously, ears pricking forward. Then, she let out a great, barking guffaw. "You? You actually wish to hunt?"

  Drak crossed his arms tight to his chest, completely unamused. "Ha-ha, Nalli. Laugh it up. Look, I need to learn eventually, don’t I?"

  Still chuckling, Nalli stretched lazily before pushing herself to her seated height, using her arms for support to guide her up. Her head still towered above him, making him feel small in her presence. "This will be good, but fine. If you embarrass yourself, do not say I did not warn you."

  Drak nodded. “Perfect,” he said, walking over to the dismounted saddle set against a rock and pulling out the gifted Lead Howler from his uncle. He sheepishly peeled it from the holster and felt its weight, then pointed it in a safe direction at a nearby tree. He had never used a gun before, let alone something as powerful as a Titanworks Armory derringer.

  Squinting his eyes, he poked his tongue out from the corner of his mouth and aimed, practicing the motion of firing. He knew it wasn’t loaded, but when he pulled the trigger, it refused to budge.

  “Hrm…” Drak grumbled, studying the weapon with a frown.

  Nalli screwed up her eyes at his fumbling attempts. “Powerful weapon, my tail,” she puffed. “You expect to hunt using that… thing?”

  Drak scrunched his lips to the side, furrowing his brow as he fumbled with the overly cumbersome weapon. “Will you give me a second? I can figure it out.”

  Nalli let out a scoff that bordered on complete disbelief, settling back on her haunches as she watched him struggle. “At this rate, I’ll have already caught and eaten breakfast before you even fire one of your arrows.”

  Drak rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll see who gets the last word when I bring back the biggest breakfast you’ve ever seen.”

  Nalli bared a single sharp fang in a telltale smirk. “I’ll believe it when I see it, soft-paw.”

  Drak fiddled with the derringer a bit longer, his fingers tracing over its metal frame as he tried to make any sense of its mechanics. After a moment of considering its design, he realized he might need to pull the hammer back first. With a firm grip, he cocked it into place, feeling the heavy resistance in the spring beneath before it locked.

  He raised the Lead Howler once again, finding the same tree and lined up the sights on the center of its bark. This time, when he pulled the trigger, it yielded beneath his finger with a quiet, but satisfying click.

  A triumphant grin spread across his face as he turned to Nalli. “See?”

  Nalli simply bared her teeth in response, her ears flicking back as she placed the palms of her claws onto the tops of her knees. “And yet, it does nothing,” she remarked dryly.

  Drak huffed. “It’s not loaded, Nalli. I’m not about to waste valuable ammunition on a tree.”

  At that, the direhound puffed out her chest, her thick fur expanding briefly in every direction as she straightened her posture, making herself appear even more imposing. When she spoke, her voice carried an almost predatory amusement. “Then you wield nothing but a fancy club, little hunter. How do you expect to bring down prey with an empty bite?”

  Drak sauntered over to the saddle, kneeling beside it as he rummaged through his pack. His fingers sifted past his waterskin, rations, and spare clothing before finally brushing against the wax-sealed box he'd removed from the leather utility belt a few days earlier. Pulling it free, he used his fingernail to crack the wax, then flipped open the lid, revealing the heavy brass rounds nestled within. He counted twelve shots total. Then his eyes caught something else… the gleam of his compass. As an after thought, he pocketed the device. Just in case… He thought.

  He returned his attention to what he was doing. Carefully, he popped open the Lead Howler, its mechanism clicking as the barrels swiveled downwards from the frame. He slid a round into each of its three chambers, feeling the weight shift slightly in his grip as he secured them in place. The whole time, he could feel Nalli watching his every move.

  "Sorry to keep you waiting, but you’ll find out," he finally muttered through eager teeth, casting Nalli a confident smirk as he snapped the derringer shut. Lastly, he retrieved his new belt and fastened it around his waist. He took a moment to adjust the holster to sit right before sliding the weapon delicately into its leather sheath.

  He patted the belt a few times, and once he was satisfied, he turned back to Nalli, his brows raised expectantly. "Any pointers?"

  Nalli met his gaze, her golden eyes unwavering, studying him in that deep, stone-faced way she often did. Then, with a slow blink and a solemn head nod, she offered a cryptic answer. “Keep your instincts sharp… and watch your tail.”

  “...Helpful,” Drak exhaled, shaking his head at her ever-mysterious and vague wisdom. His gaze drifted out past her and onward into the surrounding woods, where the great Ardraelion trees stood tall and the underbrush whispered in the early morning breeze. His nerves itched, and he fancied a glance backwards. “So, to be clear, you’re not coming with?” he asked, his eyebrows raising in slight concern.

  She hummed noncommittally. A brush of her tail swept the earth behind her. “Auka—May fortune and bounty favor your hunt, human.”

  Drak shook out his fingers by his side while ignoring her lack of collaboration. He stepped a few feet forward before saying, “Okay, then. I’ll be back in an hour—two at most.”

  Nalli smirked, adjusting herself closer to the fire, returning to a cross-legged seat, placing her elbows on her knees while resting her chin on her claws. “Try not to make a mittapuk of yourself.”

  Drak nervously pumped his hands together. He was going to prove her wrong, one way or another. Hunting can’t be that hard, Drak thought as he took a deep breath and turned on his heel. He then disappeared into the trees with a pretend, confident stride.

  ***

  Drak moved ever deeper into the woods an hour later, his boots pressing softly into the damp earth beneath him. The trees stretched high above him, their branches barely swaying in the morning air. Sunlight filtered through the canopy with fractured rays, speckling the forest floor in patterns of gold and patched shadow. He exhaled with a staggered breath, the heat from his lungs misting in the cool air as he reminded himself to try and move carefully. If he wanted to prove Nalli wrong, he needed to do this right.

  He crouched beside a narrow game trail, running his fingers over a set of faint indentations in the dirt. These are hoof prints! His pulse quickened. The size and spacing suggested a deer, not too large, likely a buck or a doe. Even better, the tracks looked fresh in the sodden earth.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  A self-pleasing grin tugged at his lips. See, Nalli? Not so hard.

  He glanced up, scanning the surroundings with a growing sense of courage. The forest was alive with movement. He could hear the rustle of leaves in the breeze, the distant chatter of birds, and the occasional snaps of small twigs in the underbrush. He listened intently, adjusting his grip on the Lead Howler seated along his hip.

  Carefully, he paced and followed the tracks, stepping lightly over various roots and fallen leaves. The deeper he went, the quieter everything seemed. It wasn’t eerie silence, but the kind that made his senses sharpen. The kind that made him feel like he still could be the ultimate predator. After all, humanity didn’t make it as far as they did with just steam-power alone... He bit his lower lip with anticipation.

  However, after a few minutes, the trail started to fade. The hoofprints grew more scattered, more indistinct against the uneven forest floor. Drak frowned in disappointment, turning in a slow, annoying circle as he tried to pick up the trail again. Nothing?

  He could feel his confidence wane, not that he had much to begin with.

  He swore under his breath and pressed forward anyway, hoping to stumble back onto at least some sign of his quarry. He pushed through some underbrush next, his uniform snagging on a small snaggle of brambles. A few more steps, and—

  A sudden rustling ahead made him freeze in place.

  Drak held his breath, his heart hammering in his chest. He quietly pulled himself free from some thorny branches and eased toward the sound, being careful to keep each foot from stepping on a stray twig. His eyes darted between the trees, searching for the audible cause of movement.

  Then, just ahead, he saw it.

  A doe stood at the edge of a frost-covered clearing, her head half-hidden as she foraged through the undergrowth for sustenance. Her sleek, tawny coat blended in with the autumn colors of the forest. Drak's eyes bulged. He stilled his breath as his fingers curled around the grip of his derringer. This is it. Time to show Nalli what you're worth.

  Slowly, he eased the massive Lead Howler from its leather holster, careful not to make any sudden movements. Even after the little bit of practice earlier, he felt like he could take the shot from this distance. He shifted his stance, bringing the weighty derringer up as he took a slow, braking breath. Steady, Drak... just like you imagined it.

  Drak exhaled, steadying his aim. He manipulated his thumb up to pull back the hammer, until it clicked.

  The sound was't more than a tick, but it was enough to startle her. The deer’s ears flicked sharply without warning, her head snapping upright, her body tensing.

  No, don’t—

  But before he could react, the creature bolted.

  “Damn!” Drak cursed, shoving the derringer back into his holster. If he delayed for a moment, he’d lose her entirely.

  His feet pounded against the cold earth as he launched into a full-fledged sprint, crashing through the underbrush in wild pursuit. The deer was insanely fast, weaving between trees and bounding over fallen logs as if the forest itself reacted to her will. Drak, on the other hand, had no such luck. The thick foliage scraped at his coat, their brambles tugging at his sleeves as he pushed forward as his eyes locked on the fleeting, tawny shape ahead.

  He barely felt the twigs scrathing against his face as the cold air burned his lungs with each desperate inhale. His legs ached, the muscles beneath his skin screaming in protest. But he couldn’t let up; the further the deer ran, the less chance he would ever have of ever catching up.

  For a brief moment, it seemed like he was gaining ground. The terrain sloped downward, forcing the deer to taper speed as she navigated a sudden dip in the land. Drak found his opening and forced himself forward with one final burst of speed. He swiftly brought the derringer up in a last-ditched attempt and pulled the trigger.

  The firearm recoiled in his hand with an explosive report that made him flinch as a harsh crack rang his eardrums. Except his shot went awry, landing wide against a thick boulder nearby, shattering a section of rock into a plume of debris. Drak almost dropped the Lead Howler and barely had time to register the missed shot when his boot slipped against a hidden patch of ice.

  The world spun violently as he pitched forward, barely managing to catch himself before eating dirt and tumbling down into the sloped ravine. His hands dug into damp earth and scattered leaves, his breath ragged as he scrambled to his feet.

  He was too late. The doe was gone.

  Drak scowled in dismayed disappointment, turning about as he scanned the woods hoping to find some sign of his target. His pulse resounded in his ears, while his chest rose and fell rapidly. Where did she go?

  The would-be hunter gave a groaning sigh so hard that his shoulders visibly drooped. Now he’d never hear the end of this from Nalli. She’d smirk that stupid, smug, toothy grin of hers and remind him, yet again, how ill-equipped humans were for the wild.

  Then he stopped, noticing where he’d ended up.

  The forest had changed around him. The land had dipped into a natural depression, surrounded by jagged rocks and the arm-thick roots of ancient trees. The sunlight barely reached the ground here, and shadows clung to the stone like a stain that couldn’t be cleaned.

  He turned multiple times in place, taking in his surroundings. Fallen branches littered the ground, tangled among twisted roots. The rock formations loomed around him like a broken crown made of stone, making the depression feel deeper than it was. He glanced about and tried to retrace his steps, but every direction looked the same.

  Great. Now you’ve gone and gotten yourself turned around.

  Muttering under his breath, Drak slid the Lead Howler back into the holster and dug into his coat pocket. His fingers brushed over the brass metal of his compass, and he pulled it free, flipping it open.

  The dial twitched for a few seconds before settling, the arrow inevitably pointing towards magnetic north.

  Alright Drak, just get your bearings…

  He turned the compass slowly, aligning himself in the right direction. The irritation in his chest eased slightly as he tried to mentally trace his way back to camp. He recalled passing a bramble-berry bush and a twisted pine. Just as he was about to move he heard a sound.

  Something deep. Low. A heavy, organic huffing, accompanied by the subtle clacking sound of loose stone buckling beneath heavy weight.

  His blood ran cold.

  His first, fleeting thought was Nalli. Maybe she had followed him, coming to drag him back to camp with some overly sarcastic remark. Except as the deep, breathy exhale came again, the instincts in his gut twisted.

  That's not Nalli. Whatever it is, it's too low... too heavy.

  His grip tightened around the compass, his knuckles turning white as he swallowed hard and turned his head ever so slightly in the direction of the sound, that’s when he made a horrifying discovery, and instantly wanted to panic.

  Between two massive boulders ahead, a gaping, black opening yawned as Drak realized he was looking at the mouth of a cave. The ground before it was littered with bones, bleached white over time, cracked, and scattered as if discarded without care.

  Worse yet, from within the depths of that cavernous dark, shadows moved.

  An immense, lumbering shape peeled itself from the abyss, its fur a coarse, dark gray that caught the dim light filtering through the canopy, save for tell-tale silver streak along its wide, hulking back. The air seemed to tremble with each frosted exhale it released, hot and heavy, stirring the dust around its great paws.

  Then, as it stepped forward, the light caught its eyes: Deep, and burning red, like smoldering embers beneath a thick layer of blackened ash.

  Drak was forced still to his breath.

  A silverback grizzly!

  It sniffed at the air, then huffed again, this time, sharper, more aware. Its massive head tilted slightly, while those hellish, red eyes settled onto him.

  And Drak didn't dare move.

  A silverback grizzly was a momentous threat. More than that, it was a night terror given physical form. The beast was as large as a full-sized steam-carriage, its hulking body packed with enough muscle to rival the force of a locomotive. Silverbacks were notoriously territorial, attacking anything that remotely dared to encroach on their domain.

  Realization struck Drak like an out of control steam-carriage striking a tree. In his wild pursuit of the deer, he must have recklessly woken the beast when he fired the Lead Howler. Worse yet, he had unwittingly stumbled straight onto the doorstep of its den.

  The bear continued to stalk forward, its smoldering, red eyes locked onto him with demonic focus. Drak felt a violent shiver creep through his limbs, his muscles locking in place. If it gets any closer, I’m dead.

  His breathing became short and erratic, shuddering gasps he could hardly keep restrained as he slowly, carefully, reached for his Lead Howler. He regretted stowing it away after each passing second. His fingers trembled as they wrapped around the cold grip, the firepower it held feeling minuscule compared to the monstrous force of nature in front of him.

  The bear let out a deep, guttural bellow, the sound rumbling through the air like distant, rolling thunder. Then, with terrifying suddenness, it reared up onto its hind legs, towering even taller, its massive claws slicing through the air before it slammed them down into the dirt with a bone-rattling boom.

  Drak’s heart lurched into his throat.

  He didn’t have any time to think, let alone time to hesitate.

  He yanked the derringer free, his thumb fumbling as he locked the hammer back, and raised it with both hands. His grip was unsteady, and the sights wobbled from his shaking. He forced himself to breathe so he could focus, but then the bear charged, and Drak was forced to pull the trigger before he was ready.

  The firearm cracked with a deafening bang, the shot shattering the stillness of the ravine and echoing off the surrounding boulders. The heavy round struck true, slamming into the bear’s thick shoulder with enough force to send a visible ripple through the fat beneath its fur.

  To Drak’s utter dismay, the beast merely flinched. It let out a deep, furious snarl, shaking its massive body as though shrugging off an inconvenience rather than an injury. Then its burning red eyes locked onto him, its fury compounded into terrifying, unrestrained focus.

  The bear lunged forward, its immense bulk moving with otherworldly speed, far faster than Drak thought possible. It roared, a thunderous, primal sound that rang in his ears and sent every instinct in his body screaming at him to run!

  He turned on his heel, his legs pumping forwards in desperation as he scrambled up the ravine. The loose dirt and roots tugged at his boots, slowing him down. His breath came in hurried pants, but he knew he no longer had time to try taking his last shot. He had no time to do anything but flee.

  Then the earth betrayed him.

  His boot caught on a fallen, half-buried branch, and he pitched forward, crashing out prone on the cold, unyielding ground. The impact knocked the air from his lungs, his palms burned from how he had landed, and pain flared through his limbs.

  No, no, no! Not like this!

  His hands flew over his head, arms bracing instinctively as he curled into himself, every fiber of his being expecting the crushing weight of the bear’s jaws to clamp down at any second. He could feel its tumultuous presence, its looming bulk, and the rush of its hot breath expanding outwards in the air against his skin.

  Daring to crack an eye open, he glimpsed the beast’s gaping maw mere feet away, where its yellowed fangs dripped with saliva.

  Then—

  A blur of movement, and a flash of light grey fur.

  The silverback was slammed in the side with earth-shaking force, sending it hurtling sideways into the rocks. The monstrous creature crashed against the stone with a pained bellow, dust and debris dislodged from the rock-face, raining to the earth from where they had once been settled for ages.

  Drak’s heart thundered in his chest as his wide eyes locked onto the familiar shape that had intervened.

  Nalli!

  She stood between him and the beast in a combative stance, her powerful frame tense, her hackles bristled, and her fangs bared in a vicious snarl. Her golden eyes burned with a ferocity he had never seen before.

  The air between them crackled with wild tension. Nalli stood her ground, claws sinking into the dirt, the muscles of her powerful body bound up so tight, she looked on the brink of exploding. The silverback heaved itself upright, shaking the dust and debris from its thick pelt. Its crimson eyes burned with hatred as it fixated on the new threat that had dared to challenge it.

  Nalli matched the beast’s intensity. A deep, guttural growl rumbled in Nalli’s throat, her ears pinned back, lips curling so high as to reveal the pink gums above her gleaming fangs. Her tail lashed behind her, every muscle taut.

  Drak barely had time to push himself onto his hands and knees before she whipped her head toward him, her voice elevated into a harsh, urgent snarl.

  "Move, human! Get clear!"

  Drak scrambled to his feet, stumbling backward as he wedged himself between a secure pair of heavy boulders, his fingers clenching around the derringer for dear life. He couldn’t take his eyes off the scene before him.

  The bear let out a deafening bellow, rearing onto its hind legs once more. From his position, he could see it was massive, roughly the same size as Nalli, its powerful limbs riddled thick with muscle and fat. It came crashing down like an avalanche, swinging a monstrous paw at Nalli.

  Nalli dodged at the last second, twisting her body with lighting speed. The bear’s strike carved gouges into the earth where she had just stood, tearing up dirt, roots, and stone alike.

  She countered instantly. With a snarl, she lunged, her great legs propelling her forward. Her jaws clamped onto the bear’s side, her fangs sinking deep into the thick fur and flesh as beads of blood pooled around her teeth. The beast roared in fury, thrashing about violently to dislodge her.

  Drak watched, shock and worry in his heart mixed together as the two titans clashed in a whirlwind of teeth and claws. The bear twisted, slamming its back against the rocky wall to crush her against the stone. At the last moment, Nalli released her grip, dropping low and rolling aside just before the impact.

  The silverback snarled, sinewous saliva dripping from its maw, and lunged once more, slamming its full weight into her.

  Nalli grunted as she was thrown back, her claws of her legs skidding against the dirt. The bear pressed its advantage, closing in fast, but she was ready. As it rushed forward, she twisted sharply and struck, narrowly avoiding its fangs snapping toward her throat.

  Her long claws sliced through its face in a brutal, arcing swipe.

  The bear howled in animalistic agony, its body recoiling as one of its crimson eyes was torn clean open, bright red blood streaming from the ruined socket.

  The silverback grizzly thrashed, momentarily disoriented, shaking its head in every direction as if trying to rid itself of the pain. Its furious roars shook the trees while blood continued to steadily stream from its ruined eye, dripping down its muzzle in thick rivulets. It staggered back, but its rage had not diminished. If anything, the pain had only made it more dangerous.

  Nalli bared her fangs, her fierce, golden eyes locked onto the bear’s every movement. She could not afford to let this fight drag on. The longer it lasted, the more unpredictable it could become. The bear was a wild creature. It was strong, but she had something it did not: experience, skill and the will to survive.

  Behind Nalli, Drak tempted a hesitant step out from the safety of the rocks, his eyes wide, watching the standoff.

  "Stay back, Drak," she snarled, catching his motion from her periphery but not daring to take her eyes off the beast.

  With a savage snarl, she surged forward.

  The sudden attack caught the bear off-guard. She rammed her shoulder into its chest, using its blind side to her advantage and drove her claws deep into its wounded flank. The beast bellowed in pain as she tore through muscle and tendon in turn, her fangs parting dangerously close to its jugular.

  The bear thrashed, trying to shake her loose, but Nalli held on.

  She shifted her grip, snapping for its throat. The moment she felt its hot, matted fur in her jaws, she bit down with all the strength in her powerful body.

  The silverback let out a strangled, gurgling roar.

  It tried to fight. Tried to pull away, but she refused to let go of its neck. Her claws dug deeper, anchoring her in place as her teeth crushed through flesh and windpipe. The beast’s struggles weakened. Its massive limbs twitched violently, its breath pummeled down into ragged, desperate gasps. She bit down harder, feeling the creature’s strength waning until she heard a victorious crack.

  Then, with one final, shuddering spasm, the silverback collapsed, its crimson eyes glossed over, empty as the void itself.

  Nalli held on for a few moments longer, ensuring the job was done, before finally releasing her grip and stepping back. Her chest heaved, her fur still bristling, but she stood undefeated, not a single wound marring her body.

  The only sound that remained now was the heavy huffing of Nalli’s breathing.

  Slowly, she turned to Drak. His face was pale, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he stared at her in stunned silence.

  "IkKumanngituk—Stupid human. You should be dead," she growled, her voice scolding and edged with intense frustration.

  Drak swallowed hard. He was still trying to catch his breath, his body shaking violently from the massive adrenaline dump coursing through his veins.

  Nalli stood over Drak, her golden eyes filled with irritation. Her tail flashed behind her in anger. She was rigid to the core and could barely restrain her irksome visage.

  "You are naive," she growled. "Like a reckless pup playing warrior. You don’t think. You just run headfirst into danger and hope for the best."

  Drak, still visibly shaking from his near brush against death, stepped away from the rocks, his gaze found a point on the ground. He clenched his fists at his sides, his breath huried.

  "I—I wasn’t expecting to run into a bear," he muttered, his voice strangled into a shallow whisper as he struggled to sheath the derringer. He missed the holster more than necessary before it slid into place.

  Nalli let out a sharp snap. "I told you to watch your tail."

  Drak looked up at her, his face still ghostly white from the shock. His body felt drained, as if the anxiety from the encounter was finally catching up to him.

  Nalli took a step closer, pointing a clawed finger at him as the timbre in her voice grew more urgent. "If I hadn’t followed you, you’d be dead. That mountain beast would’ve torn you apart before you could even scream!"

  Drak swallowed hard, the emotions of the entire ordeal combined with Nalli’s scoldings made his knees weak and his chest feel pressure. His vision blurred at the edges. His breathing was coming hard as his body wavered.

  "Nalli, I-I…" he tried to say, but the words never fully formed. He needed air, he needed—

  Then the world tilted.

  Before he could hit the ground, strong claws caught him. Nalli sighed, watching his unconscious form slump against her palms.

  "Argh, Drak," she grunted under a hushed breath.

  She shifted his weight around, then, with little effort, lifted him into her arms. He felt so fragile compared to her, so small, so breakable. It unnerved her more than she cared to admit.

  As she carried him back through the dense forest, her ears rotated, listening for any signs of danger. She was grateful in that moment, the only sound she could detect was the rustling of wind through the trees.

  Once back at their camp, she set him carefully by the fire, its warm glow licking across his pale face. She pulled his bedroll over him and sat down beside him, watching his slow, steady breaths with more emotion than she could wrap her head around.

  A heavy sigh escaped her next.

  "What was I thinking, letting you come with me?" she grimaced, rubbing the fur at her temples.

  She glanced at him again. Despite everything, she had grown to care about this foolish human enough to jump into harm's way to protect him. Care? The thought quietly marinated within her. Why do I care?

  Her ears twitched in irritation as she exhaled sharply. Still, without thinking, she pulled him a little closer to her warmth. Then, with a soft sigh, she gently whispered, "Stupid human…"

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  Readers can expect one chapter per week on Thursdays or Fridays now that the first arc has been fully uploaded.

  Direhound Language Glossary by Alphabetical Order

  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

  NOTABLE NAMES

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

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

  NOTABLE PHRASES

  (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.