I go for the one howling. But as I jump and sprint toward him and am ready to end his happy-howling time, the one on his left side runs to intercept me, catch me on my flank.

The fucker is big. With his head up, he comes almost to my chest.

When he is almost ready to bite me, his front legs go down together with his head, going for my leg. I let him chew on the spear as I bury it in his teeth while I jump on his back, wrapping my legs around him, rolling around in the snow with him.

I don’t lose time. My free hand goes around his head even before we roll for the first time, and the blade cuts through his neck, the warm blood wetting my hands all the way down to my elbows.

Two other wolverries run through the snow to try and help, but I push the dying beast away from myself and jump up, opening wide my mouth again and letting go the fiercest cry I could come up with.

It makes them twitch back, fall back a few feet, suddenly undecided, and I use that time to get the spear out while in the corner of the eyes, I see somewhat bigger wolverrie, white as snow with only a spot of dark fur on top of its head, come down between them.

He growls at me and I growl back at him even louder, putting my bloodied hand in front of me to show him the blood of one of his own.

Then I bring my hand to my mouth, and I lick the blood, not paying attention to its flavor, not tasting it, just licking and staring at the beast, mad-as-hell bulging-out-eyes staring.

“Yummy!” I scream at him. “I want more!”

I know I’ll have to take on the big one, but I positioned myself really badly. I’m in the open. The one that howled a second ago is to my back, the other three in front of me. The tree with two blades in the snow is long twenty yards away. Would never make it to it. And I don't even look at it. Why let them know I'm thinking of running when we just started to play?

The white beast growls at me, but I notice, the growling is not as loud as before.

Can I tame such a beast, I wonder.

I slowly, without making any fast moves, lean on the beast whose neck I had half cut through. I lift his head up with my spear holding hand, and I dig my knife in his dead neck, cutting it through, chopping the tissue.

The white beast grows at me again, and I feel the one howling slowly approaching me from behind. I work my knife as hard as I can, slicing his whole neck through. I wish to sever his whole head and I make it through the bone, but the thick skin with fur is tougher, and I have no time as four of them approach me suddenly all at once.

So I hug the dead beast and throw it over me, his severed head coming on top of mine. I lean forward so for it to not come down, its blood flowing down my head, my face, back of my nack, covering me now completely.

I use one hand to hold the dead beast in place and slowly start to raise myself up, but the fucker is heavy, not an easy task at all.

I figure if the one behind me attacks me, he can bite into his old pack brother for all that I care. And with a dead wolfie as a coat, I bet all of that is bound to confuse the fuck out of them.

As I finally steady myself up on my two feet, I howl like crazy, my eyes now fixed on the white beast’s. I move toward it slowly, howling as hard as I can. Make a few small baby steps toward them, and suddenly they move backward, moving their heads around, looking for answers, not sure.

There are four of them to one of me, but I have an advantage over them. I know what they are going to do. One will go for my leg, probably one behind me. At the same time, the other one will jump me and knock me down, go for my throat to end me right there. That will probably be the honor reserved for the biggest one. And two other ones, flanking me, will jump in to give fangs if needed.

But they do not know how I will fight. How this is a sport for me, and dancing on the rim of existence, I feel a strange, awakening sensation, an echo of a man I used to be.

I could kill them. Could kill them all. Feel almost sorry for them. Start from the big one. That one will not go down without a fight.

He still stares at me. Actually she - because as I step toward her again, she falls back on her two legs, raises her whole body up as if she was a horse. With her front feet up, she comes way taller than I am, opening up her soft belly to my eyes. I see no balls there, only a soft tissue that I can bury my spear through.

But suddenly I don’t want to.

Don’t have to.

A sudden peace blankets me completely as I understand it.

I straighten my back, crouching no more, my eyes not leaving hers, my bloodied face masking my teeth.

It all ends fast. The white one drops down, turns around, wiggles her tail, jumps as she turns around, and suddenly disappears in the darkness. The others follow, almost in complete silence if not for the soft sound of snow being stepped on.

I go back to the tree, full of energy, a huge dead animal still hanging from the top of my head.

Zan sees shit, but as I come and call on to him, he looks and looks and I tell him to come the fuck down, and only then he jumps down and stares at me.

“What was wrong with your poncho?” he asks as he shakes his head and leans to the ground to pick his knives up.

I pay him no attention. A little, smart motherfucker. Safe in a tree while I wrestled with beasts that should have bitten my ass in half.

I have blood all over me, now chilling, feel weird all around. So, I raise my head up and make a wolf call, howling with all the strength of my lungs. Somewhere in the darkness, already in the distance, I hear an answer.

“You’re one crazy motherfucker,” Zan tells me.

“Hey,” I protest, “I thought you did not remember shit, did not know me,” I say as I smirk.

Life’s good. We live.

“We’re still going to freeze, and my new coat is not going to fool a new pack of those beasts that are bound to come this way. So… let’s try and find somewhere to hide,” I tell Zan.

“If you say so, chief,” he says. “You know…”

“I know,” I say, knowing what he may say.”

“I mean,” he tries to bring it up again, but I interrupt him again.

“I know,” I say.

“What the fuck do I call you?” he just asks without my interruption.

“Don’t call me wolfie, that’s for sure.”

He laughs hearing that, laughs like a crazy man. “You’re one crazy motherfucker.”

“Yeah, don’t call me that either,” I say as I step upfront to guide us on.

Down in the valley, the night is quiet, the wind is hushed, and the snow falls down nicely. I could almost enjoy it if not for the stench that starts to come out of the wolf. It’s almost unbearable. As if something died and rotted for days, stinking up more and more every single day.

As we walk on, even Zan notices it.

“Why don’t you just drop it?” he asks

“No way,” I answer. “I rather carry this bastard than be carried by his brothers and sisters,” I answer, and Zan protests no more.

Down at the bottom of the hill, we cross a frozen creek, and then up again we go. There is no more goat or any kind of path to follow. Everything has already been covered with enough snow so you could not know which way to go.

The snow is getting deeper now, at places coming up to my knee.

We stop to look around from time to time. I see nothing alarming and the loudest sound is the sound of my heavy breathing. I’ve got to get in a fucken shape. One of these days.

The blood on me starts to freeze by the time we reach some big boulders sticking out of the hillside.

We look around it. It’s not a cave. But… there is a little hole there between those big boulders, enough for Zan and myself to sneak in.

“I’ll move away, and you,” I tell him, “Go and see if anything stinks in there. See if it passes a smell test first.”

He leans in, puts his head in, waits for a second, and then comes out and tells me, “YOu’re standing too close. Move a bit away.”

I take a step backward and he says, ”A bit more.”

Yeah, can’t blame him. The wolverrrie is starting to smell worse than a stuck toilet, overflown with a week-old crap.

After a moment, he pulls his head out and says, “Smells nothing worse than you. I’m going in to see.”

In a minute, he is gone. I take the wolverrie down from my body and start rubbing the snow over my face and bloodied hands. The shit comes out hard. But it feels good to get it off.

“Hey,” Zan interrupts me and I see his head sticking out of the fox hole. I figure it must be big enough if he had a chance to get in and turn around. “It’s pretty good,” he says. “I think you will like it.”

“But,” he says as I drop to my knees and am ready to get in the hole. “Can you get washed some more please?”

I growl but decide to take my poncho out, take my sweater and shirt off, and rub myself with snow. It actually feels good.

Ten minutes later, I finally crawled inside. The first thing I notice is the burned walls, charcoal. It’s human made. Probably done so they can hide from the beasts. There is even some dry wood there, and Zan immediately starts using flintstones to light up a fire.

The space is big enough for me to stand up. It’s not a cave, but it goes back at least twenty meters. More than enough space for me to stretch.

Soon, there is a little fire going, and the warmth feels wonderful. I open my rucksack, take my water shin out and wash my mouth.

As I lean against the earth wall of the hole, I get to think about everything that has happened. And only then, I remember to ask for an Update.

My new numbers come up and I’m more than thrilled.

Identification:

Name: Raan Mallorcan

Race: Human

Origin: Seventh Groan Quadrant 4A324R-V6

Rank: 0

Position: 0

Present Status:

Health Overall: 99

Stamina: 80

Hydration: 70

Energy: 90

Fat Deposit: 48

Bank: 10 Rounds and 10 Notches

Unused Earnings: 3 Rounds

Last Update: Local Farmers and Shepards will be pleased.

They have paid you 1 Round and 50 Notches for killing a wolverrie (*2)

Stats:

Physical

Strength Overall: Level 4

(arms, back, legs, chest, abdominal) 4/3/4/4/2

Speed: Level 2

Endurance (calculated in stamina): 50

Agility: Level 1

Dexterity: Level 5

Mental:

Intelligence: Level 10

Wisdom: Level 7

So, I'm getting smarter, huh? Who could guess? Show me the rest.

Willpower: Level 10

Confidence: Level 30

Fear Factor: Level 100

Motivation: Level 10

Skills:

Primary Skill: Knife Butchering Level 10

Secondary Skill: Howling Level 1

Ha, ha, ha. Not funny. Give me something real. But then, I have some spare change now. Maybe I'll get something really cool.

List of Skills Available for Acquisition: Unavailable

Other Skills and Abilities: Night Vision +20 percent

Karma : Negative 1,056,245

What's up with my Karma, didn't that change and how?

Karma Update: Killed a wolverrie -5 *2

Decided to spare Pack Mother +100

Oh, yeah. I finally am moving up. Shit, but I'm still way under more than a million. At this rate, to even up, I'll need like ten thousand duels with these creatures to spare their Pack Mothers. Not likely to happen.

And what is it that they told me, unless I can even out my karma, I will never get off this place? But fuck it. This tonight was something. Something I enjoyed. I breathed with my lungs full. I... Lived.

I feel almost good. But then, I close my eyes, images of my kids come, and the hole swallows me all in again.