Bessa

A Father's Teaching 1/2

Churning

Spiraling smoke rises upwards from the chimney stack of his father's house.

Ice and snow cling to the outside edges of the window. A soft glow lights the interior. The Sun's light is anything but warm. The bitter air cuts through the silk skirt as if I am only wearing tissue paper for protection against the elements of Nature.

Even with the Savage plowing through the snow to make the path easier I have to rest several times along the way. The cold seeps into everything, even the coat he made me. The wind is getting into everything. The snow, clinging to my long skirt, dragging me down. Falling over and over again.

I'm in misery.

"Bessa, just a few more steps and we will be warm and eat." He's speaking into my ear, through the hood of the coat.

I've never been so cold.

"I can't move anymore." The gloves have filled up with snow on the inside getting wetter and wetter everytime I fall. Icy slush clings to fingertips.

I've stopped feeling my fingers a few minutes ago.

"Try shifting again." A hint of desperation in his voice.

"I can't shift. She's too weak to break through the skin." I could close my eyes right now and be okay with that.

"Shift!" A command yelled out - the snow falls off the branches of the burdened down pines. There is a rise, a shift of color as the Nature of my Wild within regards him before retreating into the warmth of my marrow.

"You have to keep moving, fifty more steps Bessa, can you take fifty more with me?"He grabs my hand and takes a step forward, I take one but stop entirely after that to rest.

There is a struggle to breathe; movements have become too hard, the act to pick just one foot up is monumental. So I stay where I am - frozen mid-stride.

Picking me up in his arms he plows through the waist deep snow. He's looking forward one foot in front of the other, slow, agonize - the effort is written all over his face.

His body shakes.

Teeth clenched, his breathing becoming heavier and heavier. We both fall when his legs give out, snow surrounds us, encases us in a white tomb.

Greens so bright they make me think of spring. He blinks them closed for a moment taking in hard breaths.

"Is this how it ends for us?" Touching his cheek with my fingers because my glove fell off. He kisses the tips before putting the glove back on.

"No, Bessa. This is not our end." He struggles to his feet, only to fall again when he tries to pick me up the first time.

"Am I too heavy for you?" My face is in the snow, but it's not cold anymore. I've stopped shivering and if feels good to finally be, calm.

"You will never weigh enough for me." The second time he tries to pick me up we pitch forward, but he keeps us upright, somehow. I can feel his legs shake his entire body.

He grunts through a clenched jaw as he carries the burden of my weight.

The walk is at a snail pace, one agonizing step at a time until we are at the door of his father's house.

A wall of warmth hits me as we enter. I can't stand on my own two feet.

I'm missing a glove, again.

"Put her by the fire." The Alpha's voice is too loud. The coat comes off, my boots, the other glove, I've dropped the same one again. It's laying somewhere in the snow.