“Aru,” I repeated to myself. Water. I looked back up at him as we kept moving. The ground we were covering was fairly easy going, so a distraction would be welcome. I tapped him on the arm, and pointed at the flask. “Aru.” I said. He nodded. I pointed at him. “Daska.” More nods. Then I gestured to the two wolves ahead of us carrying Dev. Daska frowned for a moment, then smiled as he realised what I meant.
He pointed at the younger man. “Fen.” And then at the one at the front. “Jarak.”
I repeated the names, and without prompting, he gestured at the two men at the front. “Miska. Rivik.”
I sounded the names out, one at a time. When I said Rivik, the leader’s head whipped around to look at me, and I froze.
His amber eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. For a moment, everything else fell away and there was just him, watching me with an expression I couldn't read. Something flickered across his face, there and gone too fast to name, and then he turned back to the path ahead without a word.
My heart was hammering. I had no idea why.
"Rivik," I said again, quieter this time, testing the shape of it. It suited him. Something about the hard consonants and the quick clip of the vowels matched the way he moved, decisive, sharp, wasting nothing.
Daska was watching me with an expression that hovered somewhere between amusement and something more careful. He said something I didn't understand, his tone light, teasing maybe, and gestured between me and Rivik with a knowing look.
"Don't start," I said, pointing at him with mock severity. "I don't know what you just said, but I know that look, and you can stop it right now."
He laughed, a deep, genuine sound that rumbled up from his chest and made the younger wolf, Fen, glance back at us with a grin. It was infectious, that laugh. The kind that made you want to join in even when you didn't know the joke.
I found myself smiling despite everything, and something in Daska's expression softened when he saw it. He cleared his throat and pointed at the ground beneath our feet.
"Erde," he said.
Ground. Earth. I repeated it, and he nodded, then pointed at a scraggly birch tree clinging to the hillside. "Baum."
Tree. I said it back, mangling the vowel slightly, and he corrected me with patient repetition until I got it close enough to earn another nod. Then a rock. The sky. The wind. Snow. Each word offered like a small gift, placed carefully in my hands for safekeeping.
We fell into a rhythm after that. Time blurred. We walked. Rested briefly. Walked again. The wolves rotated positions smoothly, fresh carriers taking over Dev's travois without breaking stride. I caught glimpses of Nathan and Megan at the front, trying to keep step with Rivik.
Planning. Strategizing. Making decisions about our survival.
Without me.
That's fine. That's how it should be.
Except it didn't feel fine. It felt like being erased, one step at a time.
"Ket."
Rivik's command rippled through the group. We'd reached the edge of a ravine, maybe thirty feet across, with a frozen stream visible far below. The ice gleamed dully in the weak sunlight, and the rocks on either side looked treacherous.
The wolves spread out, examining the crossing with focused intensity. Rivik and another wolf I didn't know descended partway down the near side, testing the stability. Their movements were careful, deliberate, nothing wasted.
"There's a narrower spot upstream," Megan said, pointing. "Looks more manageable."
Nathan nodded, already moving in that direction. "Agreed. We should—"
Rivik's sharp gesture stopped him. The alpha said something firm in their language, then pointed at the route he'd been examining. His tone suggested this wasn't up for debate.
Nathan's jaw tightened. I could see the internal war playing out across his face—the instinct to assert authority clashing with the reality that we were guests here, dependent on people whose territory we were crossing and whose language we couldn't speak. For a long, tense moment, I thought he was going to argue.
Rivik didn't seem to notice, or care. He was already directing his wolves, pointing and speaking in quick, clipped phrases. Two of them shifted and descended into the ravine in wolf form, their massive paws finding purchase on the icy rocks with an ease that made my stomach clench with envy. They crossed the frozen stream below, tested the far side, then one lifted his head and barked once. Clear.
The wolves carrying Dev's travois went first. They moved with agonising care, angling the stretcher to keep it level as they picked their way down the steep bank. Dev's face had gone chalk-white, his hands gripping the wooden frame so hard hisknuckles stood out like stones under his skin, but he didn't make a sound.
I watched them reach the bottom, navigate the frozen stream with careful steps, then begin the ascent on the far side. The wolves moved with animal surety even in human form, their bare feet gripping the icy rock where my boots would have slid uselessly. They crested the far bank and set Dev down gently, and I saw him exhale, his whole body going limp with relief.
Nathan went next, then Megan, both of them picking their way down with the cautious movements of people who knew one wrong step meant broken bones. Nathan slipped once, his foot shooting out from under him on a patch of black ice, and one of the wolves caught his arm before he'd even finished falling. He shook the hand off as soon as he was stable. Megan made it across without incident, her movements precise and controlled.
