“Deal - Deal!” cawed Raven.
“Don’t get too comfortable up there,” warned Wolf. “I have plans for you.”
As the sun began to sink behind the jagged horizon and the howls of nearby packs began their nightly chorus, the wolf and the raven resumed their journeys together.
***
Daylight came and went once more before Wolf heard the mournful cry carried by the southerly wind. Raven had taken to the air but returned soon after. He landed before the wolf, folded his wings aside and shook his head. “Sure-sure?” Raven asked. Wolf nodded.
“I smell better than I see, and I hear better than I smell. Our next meal is close, and we will find it soon.”
Further north they pushed. Raven flew ahead high above the treetops, and Wolf followed behind. The scent of their next meal called to him across the forest and working together they quickly located the injured elk.
She lay against a thick birch, her hind leg twisted and bloodied. Of her herd, there was no sign. Upon seeing the arrival of the wolf, she let out a terrible cry, and Raven cowered behind his friend.
“Leave me be, oh Spectre of the Forest! Do not forage here! You’ll find no easy meal in me!” The elk tried to rise but the effort was beyond her, and she fell to the floor.
“You are dying,” said Wolf as he settled before the elk.
“Dying-dying,” repeated Raven.
The elk lowered her head, and a solitary tear ran from her eye. “That I am,” she sighed. “And it is you two who shall feast upon my carcass. Truly this is an insight that none should ever die knowing.”
“We will,” agreed Wolf. “In time.” The wolf lay several feet from the elk; his eyes remained locked upon her on the off chance that his meal should suddenly find the spirit to flee. The Raven sat upon his back and began to preen.
“You will wait me out?” asked the elk.
Wolf nodded.
“I suppose it is better than dying alone, in a sense. Let us talk awhile until I can no longer. Tell me, what brings you North? ”
Wolf turned away. “Perhaps to scavenge your remains. Tell me, what happened to you? Where is your herd?”
The elk bowed her head. “If you must, though you shall answer my questions if you are as renowned as I am led to believe. Your kind are respectful, of that I am sure.”
Wolf stood and momentarily unsettled the balance of the raven, who cried out in surprise. “I shall answer if I wish and I shall regardless. Now tell me, where is your herd?”
The elk rested her head on the snow. “Long gone by now. In which way, I do not know. I slipped and snapped my leg several moons back. They left me, as is the way. I lay here calling in the hope that someone may find me and end my suffering. Perhaps my call tempted you north? Tell me, must you wait me out?”
The wolf eyed the elk. “I choose to for now. Tell me, are you in pain?”
“I was. It bothers me less now. The cold has entered my bones. I feel… little.”
“Your life—was it plentiful?” asked Wolf. A look of contentment spread across the ailing elk’s face.
“It was, it truly was. I saw many golden summers, countless fields full of colours that defy description! I felt the endless warmth the likes of you could not imagine, all of this came before the winter. My calves grew strong and took good standing in the herd. My only regret is that they never saw summertime. My purpose is spent, and my life is done. Nature takes what she needs to restore the balance. My leg brought me down, and she brought you to me. Life from death and so the cycle continues.” The wolf nodded, and the raven cawed.
“Life - Death! Life – Death!”
The elk fixed the wolf with a steady gaze, yet her suffering was evident. “Tell me now, why do you travel north? You are far from home, and there is only danger and misery ahead.”
Raven jumped from the wolf as he rose and began to approach the elk. “I travel for love. That is all I shall say.” The elk nodded and lay her head back upon the snow.
“Now that we have each satisfied the curiosity of the other, would you end my suffering? I wish to linger no longer. Do as nature bid, oh Spirit of the Forest.”
Wolf nodded. “As you wish, I can stand to watch you suffer no more.”
The elk raised her head and exposed her throat. “Be quick, I beg you.” The wolf nodded, clamped his jaws around her windpipe and bit. After a few instinctive kicks and a small trickle of blood, the elk was dead. The wolf lay her head gently on the snow and turned to his companion.
“Noble-Noble!” squawked the raven.
“It is the way,” replied Wolf. “Now we eat.”
***
The river was swollen and impossibly wide with a current that would trouble all but the strongest of swimmers. “We’ll not cross here,” instructed Wolf. “I have eaten much and need to rest.”
“Agreed” chirped Raven, who was busy preening. Wolf stooped to drink from the river. “Leave-Pack? Leave-Pack?” asked the Raven. Wolf continued to drink, only turning to glare at his companion once his thirst was satisfied.
“Tell-tell!” cawed Raven.
Wolf cleared a spot at the base of a large redwood, settled himself to rest and remained silent.
***
Danger filled the nostrils of the wolf, and he rose with fangs bared and claws sprung. With a sharp growl, he woke the sleeping raven, who at first seemed unaware of their predicament. “What-Wolf? What-Wolf?”
“Grizzly,” snarled the wolf. “Nearby. The scent is strong; the blood from the elk must have alerted it to our presence. Go, fly high and search it out!”
The raven unfurled its massive wings, momentarily casting a shadow over the heedful wolf. Within seconds it was far out of sight, his calls the only echoing trace of his existence. A long silence had passed before he returned breathless and agitated, to his perch above the wolf. “Grizzly-near, Grizzly near,” he chirped before taking off again. The wolf followed, careful to remain out of sight, knowing that the bear would already have their scent.
Wolf skirted the edge of a clearing and froze. He could smell the bear nearby. There was a rapid flurry of activity in the bushes ahead. The foliage was too thick for the wolf to make out whatever it was that was hidden amongst the twist and tangle of leaves, but the stench of the bear was overpowering. With ears pointed forwards and hazel eyes locked ahead, he lowered his body into the snow.
Suddenly, a small brown hare burst forth from the bushes and bolted towards the wolf, only to be snatched up mid-stride by the rampaging grizzly bear that had crashed into the clearing from Wolf’s left. The hare was dispatched in one bite, and the bear turned his attention towards the half-hidden wolf. Wolf let out a low growl, and the bear took to his hind legs to display the enormity of his imposing frame. The clearing was thrown into shadow and before the wolf could withdraw the grizzly was upon him. Claws flashed above his head as he ducked and rolled out of harm’s way yet still the bear was atop of him. Laden with food and still meat drunk, the wolf was sluggish in his reactions and fast running out of breath. The grizzly was relentless in his pursuit. Branches were torn from trees and rocks were upturned, yet still the wolf darted and leapt between cover in a desperate effort to evade his attacker.
A familiar sound caught Wolf’s attention as Raven swooped out of the sun and flapped around the bear’s head. With the bear now distracted, the wolf managed to run deeper into cover and allowed himself a moment to gather his strength. Looking back into the clearing from his vantage point he could see the raven dive in and attack the bear, utilising his sharp beak upon its face and head. Enraged, the bear desperately tried to swat the raven from the air but the bird was quick, and he managed to avoid each attack with ease. After a few more minutes of aimless attack the bear, now exhausted and bloodied, tired of the ordeal and retreated into the bushes. Raven took to the skies with a loud victory call, located his companion and took his place atop of a moss covered rock before the wolf.
�
��Thank you,” panted Wolf. “That was incredibly brave. You need not have risked yourself for me.”
Raven cocked his head. “Wolf-friend, help-friend.”
“Our kind are not used to the help of others. We rely on our blood, no other. This is unexpected. I am… grateful.”
Raven pecked at the moss. “Raven-Blood, Raven- Blood!”
“Perhaps in a manner. Come; let us find a place to rest far from here. The fight has no doubt tired us both.”
The path north took them down into a deep gully where the ground was rocky and growth was sparse. Wolf settled himself on a ridge that overlooked a small lake far below. Moose and caribou grazed beneath them, and the raven watched them from his perch. “Let us rest here a while for the descent will be tiresome,” suggested Wolf.
“Raven - eat?”
The wolf looked at the caribou. Even at a distance he could tell that they would be a formidable opponent should he try to take one down. “Perhaps tomorrow,” he sighed. Raven began pacing along the edge of the ridge. “What is it, bird?”
“Leave-Pack? Leave Pack?”
“Must we do this again?”
“Tell-Tell!” insisted Raven, who had begun to hop from one leg to the next.
“I expect that I shall get little in the way of rest if I resist, am I correct?” The raven cawed and pecked at the ground. “Very well, you did save my life… I suppose I owe you so I shall share my tale, brief though it may be. I was originally one of four born unto my parents. The smallest of our litter died soon after birth, and I do not remember her. In total there were eight of us in our pack, the three other wolves were kin from a pack that had succumbed to a harsh winter. Father had allowed them to run with us, after all there is safety in numbers, and I suspect he had hoped to strengthen our bloodline further. There was a female amongst them, one who I found myself caring for a great deal—yet she was running with another. Tensions within the pack mounted until the moment came that he and I fought. It was inevitable. Our hierarchy is based upon dominance, as is the privilege of mating. The winner stayed with her and the pack.”
The Raven mulled over the story for a moment. “North - mate? North - mate?”
Wolf remained silent.
“North - die? North – die?” asked Raven.
The Wolf tucked his head out of sight and went to sleep.
***
The journey through the valley took many days and was carried out in silence. The terrain was treacherous, and the wolf did not wish to spare his concentration to revisit the previous night’s conversation. Raven scouted a precise route as best he could, but progress was slow. According to the Raven, the herd had moved out of the valley earlier that day and were grazing beyond the edge of the pass.
“Raven! Land a while. I wish to speak with you,” called the wolf and Raven did as he was bid. “I grow weak from my exertions as I suspect do you.” Raven nodded. “The herd ahead is our only hope of sustenance yet it will be no easy task to bring one of them down. They look out for one another as do we; I shall need you to draw one away from the pack.”
Raven nodded again. “Draw - away! Draw - away!”
“Get one far enough removed and I shall bring it down. We shall have to work quickly mind for they will soon recognise our game.” Raven nodded a final time before taking to the air.
***
Wolf watched as Raven swooped and rolled amongst the herd of moose. After a while, it became apparent that one of the herd had taken an interest in the raven and had broken off to investigate further. With his body pressed flat to the ground and moving without sound, the wolf approached the wandering moose. A quick assessment of his prey revealed no immediate weakness. The moose stood several feet tall and looked to be in prime condition, and though the wolf would not ordinarily take his chances on bringing down such a large creature as this, his options were limited. Raven maintained his aerial display and the moose continued to track his movements.
Wolf leapt from the bushes and sank his claws into the hide of the moose. Panicked, the moose kicked out and caught Wolf squarely in the chest. The impact sent the wolf flying backwards, and he crashed amongst the bushes. Pain exploded within his sternum as he struggled to his feet. Panting hard and unable to stand fully he raised his head and saw that the moose turned towards him and lowered his antlers. The moose intended to gore him.
A streak of black fell from the sky and attached itself to the head of the moose. Again the raven had flown in to save his friend. His beak worked like a jackhammer as he attacked the soft flesh of the Moose’s eye. With a terrible groan, the moose kicked and bucked until the raven relinquished his hold. Reeling from the attack the moose lost all interest in the prone wolf and galloped back to re-join the herd.
Raven landed by his fallen friend. The wolf’s chest was crumpled and uneven; his face was caked with blood. “Thank you, friend, though I fear this time you are too late to help.”
The raven hopped the length of the wolf and assessed the damage. “Wolf - good? Wolf - good?”
“Not this time old friend,” panted Wolf. “Not this time.”
Raven stood silent and still.
With short breaths the wolf continued. “I want to thank you for accompanying me on my journey. Without you I would not have made it this far.”
“Raven - sorry, no – mate.”
Wolf laughed. “No, it was never my intention to travel north to find a mate. The one I was meant to be with lies far to the south. There was nothing north for me except death.”
The Raven shifted his weight, and a tear glistened in the corner of his eye. “Wolf - live?”
“After meeting you, yes… I wanted to. You gave me not just direction but purpose.”
“How - how?” asked Raven.
“For one, you kept me alive, and I had a debt to repay you.”
The raven pecked at the ground and offered a tuft of grass to the wolf.
“No thank you. I am beyond help now... but perhaps I can help you? As is nature’s way I shall become a source of food shortly. Eat.”
Raven began to hop around. “No - eat! Wolf - friend!”
The wolf’s breaths came quicker. “You must. Find life from death. It is the way of things. It is the way.”
The raven hopped up onto the wolf’s side, and there he remained as dusk gave way to night, and as the cold crept close, and the wolf's breaths drew short, Raven looked towards the sky and began to count the stars.
Neverlight
I am afraid of the little ones; I have no quandary saying as such. The little ones that roam the woodlands, the little ones in white. I went to them, fool that I was, thinking that I could aid them.
I saw their rags, torn and bloodied.
I saw their smiles, tragic and broken.
I saw their eyes, soulless and black.
They haunt me still, the children of the chase, damned for all eternity to walk the shadows, forever lost, forever smiling.
The Miners of Annan
The fate that befell the miners and their families who dwelt upon the Isle of Arran is one of Scotland’s more sinister legends. I had heard that the source of the story came from the only known survivor of the tragedy. Kinnon Donne, now nearing sixty, was a boy when he witnessed the terrible events that haunt the island still. It was not without a great degree of effort and perseverance that I was able to locate his whereabouts and hear his tale direct. Though his physical frailty is evident, his mental clarity regarding the terrible events of that day is unquestionable.
“It was late September, the leaves had already begun to brown, and the northern chill was upon us. I had neglected my chores for the day, instead choosing to pick conkers in readiness for the school yard the next day. Da would be mad at me, that much I knew, as he always was ever since my mother had passed the previous summer, so I took to the high field and hid until his temper would diminish.
“At five o’clock the miners came up to the surfa
ce, same as they did every other day, only this time things were different. From my vantage point, I could see them exit the mine. A thick smoke shrouded them and at first all I could make out were the lights of what I took to be lanterns though to my mind I had never seen them burn quite so brightly before. It was only when the smoke began to disperse that I saw that they carried no lanterns, and it was their eyes that burned with that sickly glow.
“Though I was too far away to be sure I do not think any of them spoke. Each went to his home, and that was when the real terror began. I have never heard such cries of torment either before or since, nor should I wish to. It spread from house to house until the very air rang with despair! I cowered, afraid. I was but a boy—what else could I do? There was nowhere to run to, nobody to alert. I watched in horror as the miners took their picks and shovels to their families.
“After a time, silence fell upon the village. Rooted to my hiding spot I watched as in turn, each miner dragged the bodies of his loved ones out of their homes and into the mine. It was at this point that I fled. Mercy granted me safe passage into England and I was able to find work as a farmhand. For years I said nothing of what I had witnessed that day for fear that the miners with the glowing eyes would come for me and condemn my corpse to join the rest of my kin in the depths of the mine.”
When questioned as to the manner of his escape his answers became vague, and I could not help but doubt aspects of his story. I explained that it was my intention to visit the mines of Annan for myself and was met with immediate protest. Kinnon pleaded with me to revise my plans and accept his story for the truth that it was. He offered that nothing good could come of setting foot in that place and though I doubted his tale I could not so easily dismiss the fear that had taken residence on his face. Foolishly I ignored his words.
***
Reports persist of miners emerging from the mist with glowing eyes even to this day. If Kinnon’s account is indeed accurate then an explanation as to their repeated appearance will be hard to come by—let’s not forget that the events occurred over fifty years ago.
Neverlight Page 7
