TREMBLE

Chapter 2

The winter had been the coldest and longest of my life. day after day beneath a dull, useless sun. And then there is the hunger—a masterless, burning, gnawing hunger. During that month, nothing changed; the surroundings were fixed into a lifeless, monochrome tableau. The rest of the group remained in the woods and slowly starved as we waited for warmth and our old bodies since one of us had been shot while attempting to grab rubbish from someone's backstep. till the girl was located before their attack.

They huddled close to her, growling and snapping as they competed to make the first kill.

I observed it. I could see their desire making their flanks tremble. They were wearing away the snow beneath the girl's body as they yanked her body in all directions. I noticed crimson smears on the muzzles. I didn't stop it, though.

I could have gone in right away since I was high up in the pack—Beck and Paul had made sure of that—but I stayed back instead, shivering from the cold and covered in snow up to my ankles. Above everything else, the girl smelt warm, alive, and human.

Why was she not well? Why wasn't she struggling if she was still alive?

In this lifeless, icy environment, I could smell the warm, vivid perfume of her blood. Salem trembled and shook as he tore at her garments, and I saw it. I hadn't eaten in such a long time that my stomach was twisted and hurting. To stand next to Salem and pretend that I couldn't smell her humanness or hear her sultry groans, I longed to push past the wolves. The pack was pressing towards her and attempting to exchange her life for ours even though she was so little below our fury.

I moved forward with a growl and a flash of teeth. Salem roared back at me, but despite my famine and youth, I was more rangy than him. Paul growled menacingly in support.

She was gazing up at the vast sky, and I was standing next to her.

Possibly deceased. I pressed my nose into her palm because the aroma of sugar, butter, and salt made me think of a different time in my life.

I then saw her eyes.

Awake. Alive.

The girl gave me a direct glance, her eyes locking with mine with such horrible sincerity.

I grew up, retreated, and began to tremble once more, but this time, it wasn't because of rage.

Her gaze was fixed on me. I had her blood on my face.

Inside and out, I was disintegrating.

she lived.

my existence.

The pack backed away from me warily. They hissed over their victim and growled at me because I was no longer one of them. She was a small, bloodied angel in the snow, and I thought she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. Unfortunately, they planned to kill her.

I observed it. In a manner I had never seen anything before, I saw her.

It was halted by me.

I later ran across him again, always in the chilly weather. As I replenished the bird feeder or carried out the garbage, he watched me intently from the edge of the backyard woods, but he never approached. I would cling to the frozen tire swing until I felt his gaze during the long interval between day and night in the long Minnesota winter. If I had outgrown the swing, I could have also silently approached him from the rear deck while extending my hand with my palm up and my eyes lowered. No danger. I was making an effort to use his lingo.

But no matter how long I waited or how hard I tried to get close to him, he would always disappear into the brush before I could get there.

I never felt threatened by him. He was strong enough to knock me off of my swing and big enough to take me into the woods. However, his eyes didn't reflect the savagery of his body. I was unable to be terrified since I could still see every shade of yellow in his eyes. He wouldn't harm me, I knew that.

He needed to know that I wouldn't harm him.

I hung on. then awaited.

He also waited, but I had no idea what he was watching for. It appeared as though only I was making the effort.

But he was constantly present. eyeing me while I observe him. Never any further away from me, but never any closer either.

The wolves' eerie presence in the winter and their much eerier disappearance in the summer continued in this uninterrupted rhythm for six years. I didn't give the timing any thought. They seemed to me like wolves. just wolves.