I followed the wolves into a forest of crystalline trees. The transition from barren plains to woodland happened so gradually I barely noticed until the white expanse around us gave way to strange, pale trunks rising from the snow. Branches stretched overhead, coated in ice that caught what little light filtered through the gray sky.
The lead wolf maintained a steady pace, glancing back occasionally to ensure I kept up. The rest of the pack moved like shadows through the trees, appearing and disappearing with unsettling ease.
"You do this often?" I asked the leader. "Escort lost travelers to... wherever we're going?"
The wolf's ears twitched but it offered no response beyond continuing forward. Fair enough.
My feet ached from hours of trudging through snow. The biting cold had settled deep in my bones, but the forest provided some shelter from the wind. Small mercies.
The trees grew denser, their trunks wider and more twisted. Ice formations hung from branches like frozen chimes, occasionally catching the light and refracting it into brief rainbows that danced across the snow.
"Nice place you've got here," I said, more to hear a human voice than anything else. "Bit chilly, but the decor's interesting."
The lead wolf stopped abruptly, causing me to nearly stumble into its massive form. It turned its head, those eerie blue eyes studying me with what almost looked like amusement, before continuing on.
"Everybody's a critic," I muttered.
After another hour of walking, the forest opened into a clearing. A perfect circle of open space surrounded by the tallest trees yet, their branches forming a natural ceiling with gaps that allowed light to filter through in distinct beams. The ground dipped slightly toward the center, creating a bowl-like depression free from the deepest snow.
The wolves spread out around the clearing, some finding spots beneath the trees while others began pawing at the snow, turning in circles before settling down. The leader walked to the center of the clearing and sat, watching me expectantly.
"I'm guessing this is home sweet home?" I asked.
The wolf continued staring.
"Right. Thanks for the guided tour. I'll just..."
I trailed off as more wolves emerged from the trees, joining the others until I counted at least fifteen. They formed a loose circle around the clearing, effectively surrounding me.
My hand drifted toward my knife. "We had a deal," I said quietly, tension creeping into my voice. "I gave you food. You showed me shelter. Double-crossing me now would be bad business."
The lead wolf stood and approached me slowly. It stopped a few paces away, then deliberately looked at the center of the clearing, then back at me. It repeated the motion three times.
I followed its gaze to the depression in the center. "You want me there?"
The wolf chuffed.
Keeping my movements deliberate, I walked to the center of the clearing, watching the wolves for any sign of aggression. They merely observed, some lying down, others sitting attentively.
The leader approached again, this time circling around me, nosing at the snow.
"What?" I asked. "What do you want?"
It pawed at the ground, then looked up at the gaps in the canopy where smoke might escape. Then it stared at me again.
Understanding dawned. "You want me to make a fire."
Another chuff of confirmation.
"Why would you—" I stopped myself. Questions could wait. Fire meant warmth, and warmth meant survival. If these wolves wanted fire too, fine by me.
I looked around the clearing. "I'll need wood. Dry wood, not these ice-covered branches."
The leader trotted to the edge of the clearing and disappeared into the trees. Several others followed. The rest maintained their positions, watching me.
I began clearing snow from the center depression, creating a circular area for a fire pit. The ground beneath was surprisingly dry, protected from moisture by the tree canopy above.
When the leader returned, it carried a branch in its massive jaws. Others followed with similar offerings, dropping them near me before retreating to the perimeter.
I examined their contributions. Most were indeed dry, likely fallen branches collected from beneath the snow or sheltered areas. Some even appeared to be old, seasoned wood—perfect for burning.
"Thanks."
I arranged the smaller pieces into a pyramid structure, adding larger branches around it. Now came the hard part.
I tried cutting a notch in the wood, but my knife kept slipping on the hard surface. My hands, still stiff from cold despite the brief respite earlier, struggled to apply steady pressure.
"Shit," I hissed as the blade sliced my thumb.
The wolves stirred, several rising to their feet at the scent of blood.
"Just a scratch," I said, sucking the wound. "Stand down."
To my surprise, they settled again, though their eyes remained fixed on me with heightened interest.
I tried a different approach, using my knife to shave thin curls of wood from one branch to create tinder. The work was slow and awkward, but eventually I had a small pile of shavings.
Using my flint, I struck sparks onto the tinder. Most died immediately, but after several attempts, one caught. I leaned down, blowing gently, nursing the tiny flame.
The tinder caught, flame spreading through the wood shavings. I carefully added the smallest twigs, then gradually larger ones as the fire grew. Within minutes, I had a respectable blaze going, casting flickering orange light around the clearing.
The wolves' eyes reflected the firelight, fifteen pairs of blue orbs shining in the growing darkness. Their attention remained fixed on the flames, many shifting closer as warmth radiated outward.
"You like that, huh?" I said, adding more wood. "Can't blame you. Fire's a good trick."
The leader approached, circling the fire before settling near it, close enough for warmth but not so close as to risk burning. Others followed suit until the entire pack formed a ring around the flames, their bodies creating a windbreak that helped contain the heat.
I sat cross-legged, extending my hands toward the fire. For the first time since arriving in this frozen wasteland, I felt something close to comfortable.
As night fell properly, the temperature dropped further. I stared at the snow surrounding me, knowing I needed more than just fire to survive the night.
"Don't suppose any of you know how to build a shelter?" I asked the wolves.
Predictably, they offered no construction advice. I sighed and stood, surveying the clearing. I needed something to keep me off the snow and block the wind.
Several fallen logs lay at the forest's edge. I dragged the largest back to the fire, positioning it as a windbreak. Others followed, arranged in a rough semicircle around the flames. Not much of a shelter, but better than nothing.
I gathered pine boughs from low-hanging branches, laying them across the logs and on the ground for insulation. The result was a crude lean-to that would at least keep me off the snow and provide some protection from the elements.
As I worked, several wolves slipped away into the forest. I kept one eye on them, still not entirely trusting their intentions, but continued my task.
The shelter took shape slowly. My hands were clumsy with the unfamiliar work, but necessity proved a decent teacher.
When I finished, I had a passable shelter that would at least keep me from freezing solid overnight. I fed more wood to the fire, watching the flames climb higher.
Movement at the edge of the clearing caught my attention. The wolves who had left earlier returned, carrying small, furry forms in their jaws. They brought their catches to the center of the clearing, dropping them near the fire.
The lead wolf approached me, carrying a small animal that resembled a rabbit, though its ears were shorter and its fur had a bluish tint. It placed the creature at my feet, then backed away, watching expectantly.
I stared at the offering. "For me?"
The wolf chuffed.
I picked up the rabbit-thing, examining it. Fresh kill, still warm. My stomach growled at the prospect of real food.
"Thank you," I said, meeting the wolf's gaze. "Seriously."
The rest of the pack settled around the fire, some tearing into their own catches, others watching me with those intelligent blue eyes.
I set about preparing my meal, using my knife to skin and clean the creature as best I could.
Finally, I had the meat ready. I found a straight branch, trimmed it with my knife, and skewered the meat to fashion a crude spit. Positioning it over the fire, I began to cook my first meal in this strange world.
The smell of roasting meat filled the clearing. Several wolves lifted their heads, nostrils flaring, but none approached my meal. They had their own.
When the meat had cooked through, I pulled it from the fire. Steam rose from the browned surface, carrying an aroma that made my mouth water.
I tore off a piece and blew on it before taking a cautious bite.
Flavor exploded across my tongue—rich, gamey, and utterly delicious. After years of bland protein paste and whatever scraps I could scavenge in the Depths, this simple meal tasted like a feast fit for the Pinnacle elite.
"Holy shit," I said between bites. "This is incredible."
The lead wolf watched me eat, something like satisfaction in its posture.
I savored every morsel, stripping the small carcass clean. When I finished, I tossed the bones into the fire and wiped my hands on my pants.
"Best meal I've had in years," I told the wolf. "You're a better host than most humans I know."
The wolf stretched, then curled up near the fire, apparently ready to sleep. Others had already settled, forming a ring of warm bodies around the flames.
I retreated to my makeshift shelter, arranging the pine boughs into a passable bed. The fire crackled nearby, its warmth combining with the full meal in my belly to create a drowsiness I couldn't fight.
As I lay down, the lead wolf raised its head, watching me with those strange blue eyes.
"Don't worry," I said, "I'm not going anywhere. Wouldn't get far anyway."
The wolf seemed satisfied with this answer. It rested its massive head on its paws, eyes half-closed but still alert.
I stared up at the patches of night sky visible through the canopy. Stars shone with unfamiliar patterns, confirming what I already knew—I was very far from home.
"One day down," I murmured. "Twenty-nine to go."