Odin's Prize

Heat (Part One)

Unguarded with without caution I'm propelling myself forward, through tree lines that are not familiar. Wisps of alarms sounding that are ignored by my nature. The only singular thing important to me is finding Odin in a territory that is vastly bigger than my father's.

The Far North holds the most land but fewer wolves.

Stopping the movement of myself to adjust direction, letting senses guide me on a whim Odin will be this way. No scent trail, no footprints, no signs of wolves to track. When breaking out of a sparse treeline has a sickening feeling that my decision-making skills are questionable at the moment.

The tundra of the Far North that I have been told about is ahead of me, miles and miles of rock plains that rise into mountain further in the distance. Instead of dew clinging to the plants that are hugging the ground tight spreading out width wise instead of height is a melting frost that shimmering in the sun's rays.

Thinking soon this flora and fauna will be hidden underneath layers of snow and ice making the landscape look like a winter desert of white.

The material of my shirt hangs limply on my body; it's torn, the tattered fabric is garbage now, unsalvagable.

It's not long into the walk that the air seems to stir differently. No birds in the sky, nature stops it's breath, looking around nothing out of the ordinary. No sounds of being followed but I feel as if I am being watched.

The grumbling of my nature is sounding out, echoing throughout the landscaping bouncing back towards me in a rush of fading sound. The hairs on my arms standing on end senses prickling with unease that something is off in the light of day.

A flash of movement from my peripheral has my head turning to the right fast, but nothing looks out of its place thinking to myself if I understood the land I'm walking in.

Another flicker of a moment on my left catches my attention, ears straining for a sound that isn't the light wind that is rustling up the current of air.

Heartbeat quicking, while lungs pull in the air quicker. A flash of fang posturing out for hidden eyes to see. I won't go down without a fight. Another step towards the interior of the Far North territory has a growl rumbling out from behind me, turning quickly around nothing there while a menacing sound hits ears to the left, nothing.

"I know someone is there." Trying to keep any fear from a voice that just states an observation.

The breeze shifting brings several males distinct scents towards me.

"I can smell you." Again saying it for the sound to echo back into my chest. Nothing is answering my words.

Once again I start my projection forward one step is all I make it for the vibration of air to be ruffled in waves around me as the distinct voice of several wolves disturbs the stark silence.

Motion to my left turns my head in that direction, instead of seeing nothing like I'm expecting a male almost the size of Uncle Thomas is standing motionless with a spear tip pointed at my throat. A movement to my right causes my eyes to hold on the bare chest male that has a spear tip pointed at my heart, within a few breaths out; I'm surrounded by warriors of the Far North Pack. None talk all are motionless, holding their ground. Taking a step once again forward to the interior of their land, their movement mimics my own, the circle closing in around. Another step forward, they follow my lead, but the circle tightens.

It's then I pivot on feet search the strongest out. He's an older wolf, greying hair on the side, old tattoos lining his torso, a strong looking scar etched in the tight skin of his abdomen looks as if at one time he was gutted by something stronger than him.