Part 1: Chapter 1

they meet Ossica.

     "Spelebrill," the old wolf began, "I think it would be wiser to go south than stay here any longer. The coming winter will be harsher than the last- I know the signs. It is warmer if we do go south, and I believe the forests there are better hands than these. We should start now if we are to escape the seasons in time." Spelebrill paused at that, and nodded accordingly.
     "You do have a point, White. And, I do feel a sense of security in that direction..." The alpha trailed off in thought as he searched for some emotional depth in the matter that he had relied on for his whole life up until now. He had to make a reasonable decision, because he and the pack were at stake. What he chose now would define the rest of their lives. "We will go south," he confirmed White's advice and his own heart.

~~~>@<~~~

     "Let us leave now!" Spelebrill rounded up the pack after they had all eaten the last of the meat. However simple and right it felt earlier, Spelebrill found himself questioning his own decision. But with a glance at his faithful adviser, he assured himself that this was the right way to go.
     The pack found themselves traveling at a decent speed, gliding through the ferns and leaping over the thin trunks of fallen birches. They had little need for a breeze; their movement alone conjured up a gust that kept their heads clear and senses alert. But later that night, a full moon cast its cold light on them, and soon enough, they noticed that the trees were thinning out. Beyond the rise and fall of a few hills stretched a vast forest of enormous pines. At the sight of the endless forest of giants, White also began to contradict himself.

~~~>@<~~~

     Spelebrill sent Celyk, Orpe, and Raier ahead to search for a good resting place. He and the pack lagged behind, slowing down to a lazy trot. Later that night, the three scouts returned with news. "The best looking places are in the forest. We found a fallen tree that could shelter us all!," the dark red she-wolf exclaimed. Spelebrill cocked his head, wondering how any tree could be big enough to shelter an entire pack. He praised them for a job done well and dismissed them, but did not question.
     The gray and black alpha gathered the pack together once again that day, and they set off for the forest. Between the woods and the forest of giants, golden, treeless hills sat like islands. The wolves ran over the fat rolls of the land, and reached the forest side-by-side with midnight. Then, Raier took the lead and brought them to the fallen tree.
     No one in the pack had ever seen such trees. They touched the sky with lightly feathered fingertips, and their trunks were enormous. There were thousands of them- as far as the eye could see. White looked down at the soft needle-padded ground, and a little ways before him sat a pine cone bigger than his paw. With a glance around, dozens more were to be seen, and there was very little green life. Only moss and the sprouts of hardy plants grew at the giants roots.
     The fallen tree speckled with moonlight seemed out of a fantasy. It was completely uprooted, and lied flat on its side. Spelebrill looked down the length of it; it had a lot of length. But it was the roots that amazed him the most. They fanned out in the shadows of a thin, leafy canopy like the petals of some magnificent flower, but then twisted into each other, making gnarled shapes and angles. In the midst of the roots was a big hole- right in the bottom of the tree. "This is where we will be staying," Raier turned to Spelebrill, "that is, if you approve."  The alpha stared into the dark, hollow trunk, then glanced around once more. "I approve," he replied.

~~~>@<~~~

     The pack fell asleep quickly, indulging in the soft beds of pine needles they made for themselves. Though it was musty, the hollow was warm and a pleasant, minty smell wafted up from the needles like a thin steam. The wolves each found the perfect spot for themselves, and slept comfortably through what little night was left.
     White woke early the next morning- earlier than anybody else. Finding that he was the only one awake, he left the hollow to greet the giant trees and the sun. But, to his disappointment, the sun hardly peeked past the thin canopy of leaves high above his head. As he looked up, the crazy fluttering of birds caught his eye for but a moment. The thing that urged him forward was the need to explore. He took a good, long look about him so he would remember where to return to, and quietly padded off.
     White had gone about five or six trees away from the hollow when he caught a glimpse of another wolf trotting to the far side of tree ahead of him. He stopped abruptly and aimed all senses towards the tree, and snagged a whiff of it's- his- scent. With all caution, White approached the tree and came close enough to reach out and touch it with his nose. He stopped again, the scent as strong as ever, and peered around the trunk. But because the trunk was so big, he had to continually walk forward before he could see anything. Strangely enough, the other wolf wasn't there. White, so struck by the urge to investigate, bounded ahead and expected to run right into him. Again, nothing was there. Confused, he cocked his head and began to trot around the trunk. He caught his own scent and found he was going in circles. At that, he slowed down and finally came to a stop.
     White looked to his right, then at the tree to his left. But before he could look behind him, something shoved him forward. He yelped in surprise and tumbled over, then quickly regained his footing. All the while, a good-hearted laugh rang from the old wolf before him. White stood defensively, his fur puffed up along his neck, and his tail stuck straight up in the air. The other wolf laughed even harder, because White's fur was full of pine needles and stuck out in clumps from the tumble. When White saw that the the creamy-brown wolf meant no harm, he sat down inquisitively but held a harsh stare. "Are you native here?" White asked sternly.
     "Of course! And you are not, I assume. I saw a pack of wolves come in from the hills last night. Are you one of them?" the old wolf questioned calmly.
     "Yes, I am. My name is White. How about yours?" White himself was beginning to feel more at ease.
     "I am Ossica. I have no pack; I live here alone. I lost my mate to a disease, and my daughter ran away after her death. I am afraid she hates me...."
     "I am sorry about your mate and daughter," White looked up at the sky, or what little he could see of it. The sun was now standing over the horizon, but he could only see bits of the rays it cast through the leaves. "I need to get back-- you are welcome to come and meet the alpha." Ossica perked up immediately.
     "We should leave now, however far your pack is from here. I have not seen another wolf for so long, I sometimes think I'm going crazy!" At that, White led Ossica back to the fallen tree. On the way, he asked questions about the place-- hunting, safety, where the nearest source of water was-- and before they knew it, they came into sight of the hollow. "I call this place Reimes, for no reason in particular," Ossica finished. White halted by an enormous tree nearby. Ossica peered into the hollow; Brannth was lazily emerging from the hollow with a yawn. White tensed for a moment, then glanced at the older wolf beside him.
     "Cm'on. The one who just came out of the hollow is Brannth. He is very loyal-- a good wolf," White explained as they casually approached the fallen tree. Brannth saw them, and ran back into the hollow. Just as the two had padded to the entrance, Spelebrill came out.
     "Brannth," he acknowledged and dismissing the green-eyed wolf. "White! And who is this? A native, I suppose?" Spelebrill stood before them, his golden gaze held calmly on White's acquaintance.
     "I am Ossica. And you are correct-- I am a native. I have not lived here all my life, however. You are the alpha of White's pack? Spelebrill?" Ossica held his own in a respectful manner, catching the alpha's interest.
     "I am." Spelebrill turned to White. "And do you trust Ossica? He may help us here."
     "If you still take my advice after I have led you and the pack here, then, yes. I trust him," White looked down, but Spelebrill took to Ossica kindly. He was thankful to the alpha for not losing trust in him, despite how wrong he now felt about his own past judgment.
     Spelebrill and Ossica had the same conversation as White had with him on the way back. As they talked, the rest of the pack had crept out into the open and sat in a disorganized circle around the three. Each was wondering the same thing: who is this?
     Spelebrill finally noticed the crowd of wolves about them, and brought White and Ossica into the gaping hollow. "Let us be. But if you must know, this is Ossica and he will help us." The pack, reassured, left the entrance. The alpha turned back to White and Ossica. "You call this place... Reime?"
     "Yes. There are other places that I have traveled through, too. By the way White put it, you do not expect to find it easy living here, and you are right. If you must go on, continue south to a mountain I call Brynn," Ossica replied. He seemed more at home in the hollow, White thought.
     "Do you mean to say that this wood is not endless?" Spelebrill joked. "We will go farther south, but only under your guidance. You seem the type who knows where he is going," he observed.
     "I hope I remember!  When you were on the hills, you probably did not see the mountain. This forest is basically on a hill, and most cannot see anything past the forest if they are in the hills or woods. The only way to navigate the forest is by the sun. As long as you are moving straight between the sunset and sunrise-- and do not follow the sun-- you should be moving south. I would not rely on the stars, because you can almost never see them. Brynn should be directly south of the forest. Beyond Brynn is Chaelma. Chaelma is a wood that is lively with flowers and streams. Find a stream and follow it to a river that cuts right through the wood. Stay along side of the river until you see Naeden...." Ossica's muddy eyes sparkled when he said 'Naeden'.
     "What is... Naeden?" White asked before Spelebrill.
     "Paradise," he replied simply. "Perfect, green, moist, clean, safe, hidden. I've been there, but I couldn't stay because my mate was dying. My daughter, Sammink, came all the way from Reime to Naeden to tell me that my mate was sick. We came back as fast as we could. But the day we came back, she left.... and my daughter left, too."

~~~>@<~~~

     The next morning, Ossica woke the wolves and they started traveling.  They hopelessly bounded through the forest well into the evening when the bits of sky turned to hot coals and piled high on the western horizon. The trees never seemed to end, and even Ossica began to doubt that they would glimpse Brynn by nightfall. But as the moon crept out to drive the sun away, the pack began to feel stronger winds than they had felt deeper in the forest. "We are reaching the edge!," the old native howled between gasps. Spelebrill yipped and took a flying leap. The pack slowed down behind him as he hit the ground with a hard roll and a squeak. Their laughter tumbled down with him until Ossica proclaimed the time ripe for rest.

~~~>:8:<~~~

Author's Note

I tend to reread-revise as I write. Please drop me some suggestions! I am always open to advice and stuff....