Musky ghosts had been haunting the dark and dreary sky all night long and dripping fragile, twilight tears from the stars, which floated through the wintertime drapes, stooping and transcending longingly through and over the silver lined floor of the Alaskan land. Nanook had awoken sometime in the middle of this maned phenomena as the sound of the wind whispered her small howls into his sleeping ears. Even under the sullen security of his cave, a pale powder had managed to sprinkle itself over his nose and fur, and he found, this cold dust felt rather pleasing on his coat. With droopy blue eyes, intoxicated on dreams of play and adventure, his interests were re-awakened and electrified by this feeling for something more real and mysterious.

Nanook shivered his nose with a twitch, and the star-tears continued their journey to the cave’s floor, quickly melting under the heat of resting mystical creatures. Not a stir was managed through the herd at the unnatural sounds nestling from Nanook, and he took this as a good sign under his presumptions. His body carefully determined its size, and like many nights similar to this one, he hid amongst the creeping shadows and slowly rose from the hiding to wander the spooked lands in search of the evil he had been told so much about. He doubted so much at their existence, and in his fearless nature, he emerged from the cave’s opening with an immature courage and a brave heart.



Tush. Tush. Tush.

The yeti made soft sounds with his large stomps stepping silent prints of young paws into the silk snow. The natural wisps of a trail blew quickly with the wind as her strong arms brushed through Nanook’s white fur, almost invisible in the pale terrain, like a glimmer in the evening bed all too made for midnight discovery. And, drawing the yeti further from his habitat, a radiant crown had arched herself in the sky above the mountain and guided the yeti's prints towards her. The draped ghosts were pushing themselves through the atmosphere to reveal this magnificent orb, brightened in the stark wintry scene.

As Nanook wandered closer in pursuit of this majestic rock, the colder the night became, and his heart was thumping faster and faster in his thick skin, all bustled and tussled with excitement until he his large limbs, rustled on all fours and began moving congruently and swiftly like a run and freely padding his merriment deeper and deeper into the night and snow. The sky suggested he had awakened later than his usual witching hour, and the yeti knew less time for nighttime play was available. Yet still, this did not bother him because he was not planning to come home any time soon. He had grander plans of mischief. He was going to explore further and wider than his last secret expedition. In fact, there was a ledge he had found, and if he stood atop it, the glowing lights of the human village could be seen. They pulsed like a surreal heartbeat, and the contrition itched his nose to know more.

There was something necessary about the humans, and yet he was to never go near them. He knew the stories and legends, and for such a reason, he was perplexed about the schism between the two creatures. There was something more mysterious about his learnings, and as his curiosity ruled his nose, he was not going to rest until he knew what it was, so he had been telling himself for several years, now.

He had only managed to see the human realm from late at night, and part of him had decided without any real reason other than brute desire that tonight, he was going to allow himself to disappear for several days longer than normal as he studied these phenomenal creatures. Nanook wanted to watch this world for himself. It had shaped the habits of his kind for centuries, but none of them seemed to know anything real about it, despite burning spirits that kept the two species connected and still within paw's reach.

As the son of Toklo, the leader of his pack, Nanook felt responsible for knowing these things and unveiling the mysteries. However, Nanook had to make it to that ledge, first, and maybe, as a birthday gift, he would be able to meet one of these mysteries.

It was time.

He was of age now, a pack weighing nearly thirty pounds strapped to his back. A jacket made of the fur of the very animals they hunted, long, silky black hair braided down his back. Square shoulders rose and fell with a soft sigh as brown orbs stared at the unseeable top of the mountain he was to climb. A passage into manhood that everyone male from his tribe was to make. Led by two older men who'd completed his journey, he would be taken up the mountain, left for a week, expected to survive and make his way back down the mountain on his own. In the end, he would have become one with the forces of nature, found his true self, become a man that could work hard, contribute to his small tribe in these Northern woods. It was a pride of every one here, the young boy, soon to be man, able to feel the happy eyes of his father on his back before a large hand clapped onto his shoulder. There was warm smile on his face, one that filled Nasim with a pride he would fulfill in a weeks time. The young man was sure he'd complete this task with flying colors. He would survive this week and come home a man. He would take over the lands his father owned, find himself a suitable wife, have kids to take over his lands once they became men and then so on and so forth.

It was a simple dream that Nasim had, but they were a simple people, yet untouched by the modern world that ravaged and raged in their cities and towns, swept up in trivial matters that wouldn't hold a candle to things that mattered in the long run. How sad they must be, not that Nasim knew, locked away in such lives, nothing more than cogs in a wheel. If he ever saw that world, at first he would be in awe of their towering huts and thin clothes, but then he would be sad, sad that they were trapped by money and greed and technology. They would never smell the scent of clean hair, the coolness of crystal blue water. Not once would they know the satisfaction of working the land and growing crops to feed a village, know the joy of watching children run and play down their streets and play their games. They wouldn't understand the pride of a hunt to feed a village. They just wouldn't understand.

"I believe in you," Mameesh, Nasim's father spoke. The man pat his son on the shoulder before stepping back. It was a simple departure before Latika, Nasim's mother stepped forwards. Arms wound around her son, pulling him into a tight hug. She was proud of him, hope swelling in her chest. There was no doubt that he would return in one piece, a man. Her young boy reaching such a landmark brought tears to her eyes.

"You take care of yourself now," she whispered softly before pulling away. Nasim only chuckled, nodding to the woman as she cupped his cheeks. "My son, a beautiful young man," she cooed. Nasim flushed lightly which only served to make his mother laugh before releasing him. Seventeen and yet he got embarrassed so easily.

"Sim! Sim!" A young voice called out to him. His young sister, only five years old, raised her arms to him to be lifted. Of course the teen obliged and lifted her in his strong arms just for her to throw her arms around her neck. "Bring me back a fishy!" She declared.

"I'm not sure if they'll have fish on the mountain, Aramyth," he informed which made the young girl pout. "Buuut," He cooed. "If I find a wolf I'll make you a pretty pelt out of its fur," He whispered conspiratorily. Of course the child squealed with joy.

"Nasim! It's time to go," Jaquer, one of two of his guides called out. He was a stern man of thirty-five. The teen nodded, kissing his baby sister on the cheek, giving one final goodbye to his parents and jogging over. Herik, a man of twenty-eight flanked Nasim and Jaquer, the second guide to lead him up the mountain, to make sure he made it an agreeable distance up the mountain.

The village saw him off, cheering for the teen as the trio began their adventure up the mountain. Moving was harder than one would imagine, the thick furs on his body to keep him warm hindering his usual movements. His furred boots were also rather heavy on his feet, like three pound weights on each foot. He was out of breath rather quickly but refused to complain, sweat clinging to his skin beneath his furs. How long they had been hiking, he had no clue, but could only hope that it would end soon.

"This seems like a good place," Jaquer spoke, halting his steps. He shared a look with the man at the back, a subtle nod shared between them that the youngest didn't notice. Nasim moved further up the trail, a small landing jutting out from the side of the mountain. He smiled, turning to his guides, intent on thanking them only to feel a fist collide with his face.

Nasim stumbled back as the shock reverbrated through his body. Confusion washed over his mind, eyes wide as he stared at his guides turned attackers. Their faces were blank, emotionless maskes, Jaquer advancing for another blow while Herik dug through his pack. Fear gripped Nasim's heart, feet scrambling back from the older male.

"Wh-What are...What are you doing?!" Nasim demanded, hands raising to block the second swing. It certainly bruised his forearms, a distraction while Herik set the charges. If there was no heir to Mameesh's lands, then they would be up for sale and Herik and Jaquer would be the top bidders for that sweet chunk of money that old geezer sat on.

"That's something you'll never get to know," Jaquer growled, fist connecting with Nasim's cheek again and sending him sprawling. The world went black, body falling limp in the snow while the two older men scrambled away. The hit was only enough to knock him down, send his world into a black oblivion for only a few minutes, world spinning as he came to. A hand settled on his forehead, iron on his tongue from the blood seeping in through his cut cheek. The teen spit out the crimson liquid, flinching as it stained the pure white snow at his side.

"What the hell?" he groaned, previous events coming to him slowly. The moment they did, Nasim was on his feet, rushing down the trail that the two older males had sent him down. "JAQUER! HERIK! YOU ASSHOLES!" He cursed them as he ran but it was too late. The earth shook with a resounding boom, the teens voice the signal that the plotter's needed to set off the charges.

Instantly Nasim froze, turning over his shoulder and staring.

It was white.

Everything was a pure white while the ground shook. It was like the earth itself was growling, warning him, telling him to run for his life. Billowing clouds of powder rushed towards him, a surreal feeling really. It was almost like it wasn't happening, the way the snow moved so slowly, thick chunks falling rapidly towards him. He tried to pinch himself, tell himself that it was a dream. He would wake up soon enough in his bed with his mother and father and sister and tell them of such a strange dream only...

it wasn't a dream.

Gently nuzzled into the thick, silky snow, Nanook quietly watched the village. Muffled breathes immersed from him. His eyes were no longer droopy with sleep and slumber, and swept in the sky by the soft bristles of the wind’s brush strokes were small ghosts, sprinkling their tears from the sky and keeping the yeti good company. He could hear their supple voices cooing the resting animals in midnight lullabies, yet Nanook was not tempted by their musical silhouette, berceuse drifting through the air. He was older, now. He was no longer a kit. The web of protection that the mountain had spun to protect the youth from all the dangers the wilderness had to offer no longer worked for him. He had lost his first tooth, after all.

His body shook and frosty tears shed from his fur and landed invisibly and scattered amongst the padded snow that surrounded him. His movements were calm even if the barks of the trees noted his excitement. However, Nanook had no time to hush their twisted gossip, whispering into the roots and through their wrestling leaves, stirring in the commotion of Nanook’s sudden curiosity. Rumors were never guaranteed to be true, and the cause for his sudden delight could have been anything. This time, the curiosity was just beyond the village, which he had been admiring on rare occasions through the years. The young yeti had only stopped to watch this same batch of humans and blanket himself in the snow for several hours, now. The rituals of habits seemed to be differing than usual — and on his birthday no less!

Large, white paws wadded into the snow and guided the beast forward down the mountain. His nose sniffed the cold air, breathing small lucid, frozen ghosts from his nostrils. They were fun to huff and puff as he moved forward in his elated sense of interest. The sound of the human’s voices whispered through the star-tears, much like the rumors that shook amongst the branches and leaves of the forest’s trees. Nanook was quickly drawing a preference for the messages being assumed in his ears by the star-tears. There was something more gentle and humble about them, like a familiar sound he once knew but had long ago forgotten.

The hairs on his body rose in eagerness as he traveled closer. The humans’ scents were beginning to spread in the wind, now, as well. It lofted in the fumed ghosts that resonated around his breathes, and if he concentrated hard enough, he could see their scents interacting with each other. There were relations of which he knew nothing. They hung around each other so oddly, like playthings toying carelessly with each other. Something else was dwelling amongst the way they waltzed together in the twirls of smoky white, but Nanook was not concerned in his breaths telling him their stories. He wanted to see these tales for himself.

Their voices were now looping around his collar and pulling him, yet. The curious sounds were so intricate and diverse with such meaning behind their melody. He wished to hear longer the noises they made and to watch how they moved and vibrated from their strange, hairless instruments. The music they seemed to make by simply — by simply being.

However, as Nanook gingerly moved in monstrous fancy, a shift in the air curled and cut through the light banter that was chuckling from the humans. He stopped in his tracks cautiously. The ghosts began haunting heavily in front of him like a cloud of haze. There was a different scent. It was much different. It smelled like the fear that roared quietly from behind his father’s teeth when the word human was ever mentioned. The smell was still unfamiliar and foreign to Nanook, but there was something more tangible about it, now, like an instinct that had been contrived into fruition. There was too much stir now for Nanook to divide the workings of his surroundings. All he knew was something was not right. He could hear it the loudest from the moaning of the trees as their leaves tussled against each other for intimate warmth and comfort and shelter.

His charcoal gray claws extended as his body arched upwards from being on all fours to being monstrously taller on two. Placid waves of vibrations grumbled disturbingly from snow and perverted through Nanook’s spine. There were multiple fears bending his ears back against his soft head, still sprinkled in the sugar of midnight snowfall. A youthful yearning for his mother began beating in his chest, aching for strength of knowledge to suckle him older and more mature. Even the wind was shifting courses, and as her painter lifted his wrist and silently removed the brush from his work, Nanook felt as if he had been pushed into an icicle. Time had frozen for him as he watched dark mute noises of nothing hold hands and dance sorrowfully around him while his mind began placing pieces of his puzzled disposition together.





Silence of a single star-tear landed on his nose and broke the void of the foreshadowing disaster, shattering the unearthly stillness. As the moment crumpled rapidly in front of him, a boisterous avalanche of awareness and passion jolted into his body like a bolt of lightning, piercing through his naïve soul, and for brief moments, Nanook could see through the small, frail eyes of another being like an over-encompassing empathy beating energy and life through his own existence. He was for that immaculate instance not just a yeti, but he was also a human. It was as if he was wearing a disguise or a suit; but it was real; and like a spirit being drawn by the strongest gust of the wind’s breath, he was pulled from this corporal instrument and pushed through the mountain tops, blinded by all means of light and dark; but he could hear the echoes of future memories pulling through his mane, locking instinct and adrenaline into his desire for safety; and he could feel the branches of the trees scratching at his essence as they beat and tore long sentences of waft admonitions against his ears like a drumming pulse; and finally, he was thrust into his own furry apparatus -- tensed by tremoring compulsion and shock of muscle and mind:

The mountain is sick, again.

There was not much thought put into the next course of Nanook’s actions. Not even the reoccurring remembrances that glimpsed his father’s angry eyes disturbed the duty that had unexpectedly embroidered itself into the weave of his soul. He could not stop the drumming desire that was now beating inside his chest, pounding his body swiftly through the wintry terrain. His body was back on all fours, flexing muscles and dashing over the upset stomach of the mountain, ill by raped contrition. The young yeti understood his father’s anger towards humans very well in his madness of sprint, but at the same time, still racing headfirst, he could not understand why his father would ever choose the path that he had chosen. There was something unforgivable about it. Not just the gray ghosts were crying out in the sky, now, but the yeti, as well, could feel his own tears drifting into place on his face as a fear he had never known erupted inside of him.

Fumes of panic and courage surrounded the yeti as he burrowed down the mountain, now retching her snow in giant waves of murder. There was more than one of them, and Nanook regretted not being able to help all of them. However, he knew and understood with full mind-body-and-soul, that if he did not rescue his then no longer was he truly anything, anymore. His life would be for nought.

Large woolly arms swept an orchard body, limp from one of the mountain’s heaves having forced him unconscious. The whitecaps itched against his young, beastly legs and physique, but Nanook took little notice of the sharp pain cutting through his coat. A soothing comfort had swelled in his chest that his was in his arms, and with willful forces, he plunged himself forward through rocks and thorns, riddled in the avalanche. The tremors of shock he had experienced only seconds before the fall were keeping his senses clean and awake, even if his mind was black with only a single light guiding him to shelter. He had but one goal in mind that whined soothingly and hastily at the limp human under his protection.

Nanook’s grunts nestled in disdain as his body felt the mountain’s sickness uproot its hands and arms to pull his body under its star-tear ocean. Nanook had no will to give-up, though. It was no longer his own life, he was protecting. It was his life. The warmth that was beating through a pale fire in the supple body’s chest was stilling in faintness, and the gray scissors of death, already having stretched forth to cut the ribbon that tied the two’s souls together, had begun to gnaw its stinging teeth against the seams of their unity. Nanook would not see that the end should be like this, and with rage and sorrow that was bitten back by ferocious bravery, he knew he would never forgive his father for what he knew and had done to their pack.

Especially not, if his died.

A pained growl bellowed from the beast as his body slammed against a dark tree's muscular upper chest. Its leaves softened the blow and reported to him about a temporary haven as it desperately tried to hush and console the young kit, scratched and injured from the mountain’s man-made virus. It was not often that Nanook took advice from the gossiping trees, but in their emerging, nurturing suggestions, he caved to their rumors and dragged his body and himself heroically beyond the drama that was belching from the mountain top.

Time had slipped away from it's pendulum, and the yeti had no consideration for how long his body had muscled through the raging avalanche, nor did he have much mind to recall what anything was like aside from the wounds, which decorated his once soft, kept tresses in dark red. What seemed like only one breath of wind had actually been a time that lasted hours, and as Nanook closed his dreary eyes against his resting fur cold and chilled but safely secluded within the naked insides of a hollowed rock, he kept a small window of alertness over the ghosts that fluttered from his human’s body like timid phantoms as his own furry, crocheted body kept his warm.

Nanook did not care for how much pain he felt. He was most thankful for his birthday gift – the first piece of his totem had been drawn, and if there was any more tears to fall from his eyes, they were of happiness. He finally found his meaning.

Blackness.

All encompassing blackness. It was all that Nasim could see. His body was heavy, as if made of stone. Any attempt at moving only left him with a flaring pain. It never made any visible sign, not that the human was aware of such things. All he knew was black, inky, suffocating darkness. Had he died? Was this the end of his life, betrayed by two of his own kind on the day that he was to become a man. He wasn't even a man yet, at least not in the eyes of his people, since he had been cut down before he was able to complete this challenge. That meant he would die a boy, not even being able to come of age before he was slain.

It wasn't fair. There was no way this could be his life, an ache forming in his chest, only adding to the pain rolling through his body. He wanted to scream, to fight, to rage, but he couldn't move, locked within his own body as a creature of myth carried him to saftey at the risk to its own healthy. Nasim was unaware of this, convinced he'd been taken before his time, a sob bubbling up but never escaping. He could feel the burn of tears that welled in his eyes, slipping down his icy cheeks.

He didn't want to die.

Not like this.

It wasn't fair!

----

Further down the mountain, the men gasped for air, hidden away in a small cave as the snow roared over them. They'd miscalculated the blast, how much slow it would displace. Shivering as nothing by cold wrapped around them, the two started a fire, choosing to rest until the roar of the mountain ebbed. They could dig their way out come morning, but for now they would stay, in the warmth of a fire and rejuvenate. Their plan was a success. They just had to get back down to the main land, let the parents mourn the lost of their eldest and then buy them out without a challenger.

It was true that the trees did not know how to keep secrets. Their voices were rustling through the afternoon in some strange excitement that sounded too merry for Nanook’s liking. His ear twitched in annoyance, and a sharp pain clawed its way through his fur. He could feel tears misting his eyes. Their coldness sprinkled over his vision as he shut it tightly. His whole body was flushing with an aching soreness, he had never known until now. Nanook wished for several seconds that the feeling and him had never met. He did not like the feeling. It hurt.

A loud breath puffed from his pink nose, scratched from the sharp nails of the avalanche. The young yeti let out a whisper of a whine upon realizing the passion he would have to endure as he continued his habit of life. He was ready, though. He knew it in his bone as they moved with the tenderness of his disordered muscles. He was so tired; and learning of this new sensation was excruciatingly difficult. Another puff was exuded in complaint, and a low growl at the trees to hush their gossiping rumbled coarsely in the depths of his throat.

His body gently collapsed into the nave of the cave, again. The warmth of the ground felt soothing, as he slowly reopened his eyes, peering through through wet, scoffed fur at the narthex of the cave. There was a stillness in the atmosphere. It was nice and calm with fluffy snow, comfortably sleeping in the daytime mass.

The wind picked itself a little, strengthening its blows through the scenery. It rustled through Nanook’s fur. He enjoyed the compliments that it sang to him. Although, he could not quite remember what he had done, and for that matter, he was beginning to realize, he was not quite sure why he was resting in a cave all by himself. He had gone out last night. It was… It was his birthday!

With excitement jolting through him, his body tried to spring astutely into action. However, his body would not budge in the ways he wanted it to move. Instead, it shook with weakness and stayed put, cuddled against the cave flooring. Nanook’s ears tipped backwards in discontent and then lifted, as small as they were, in a worry or panic. It was his birthday. An astonishing noble feeling grabbed hold of him. He had done this to himself, he reminded himself gently, lifting his body forward and carefully turning away from the entrance of the hollow. My human. A white paw was carefully lifted and placed down, silently moving himself to his human.

He was cold, and Nanook quickly covered the furless instrument with his own body. The yeti’s eyes were now opened wide. His memory was returning in flushes of justice and thankfulness as he felt the faint heartbeat of his flutter tirelessly underneath him. All of the jarring discomfort that he had endured started to feel like victorious battle wounds. He was proud he knew them, now. The shift in his mindset gave him adrenaline and strength. His was safe. He was cold but safe.

Nanook nuzzled the tip of his nose against his' cheek, licking the wounds. His was such a fragile creation. His very own pains seemed so harmless when addressing the frailty of his. The yeti should never have turned their backs on their humans, and with that thought, Nanook took a small glance at the peaceful nature painted outside of the cave. No matter how ugly the humans had made the night, the artist had turned the mistake into… into another masterpiece. His eyes shifted back to his, but as glorious as the masterpiece outside appeared, it was nothing as precious and special as his. This would be his favorite birthday gift forever, and if this was to be his favorite birthday gift forever, then it was up to him to take care of it forever.

The land outside looked familiar, even if had been turned into a more snowy atmosphere. He had seen this happen once or twice before. Navigating would not be as hard, even with his nose snuffled in injury. He was a brave warrior; he had no reason to worry. He had triumphantly waged against an avalanche, an unnatural one at that! And, he was no longer a cub. There was no sense in waiting for his to awake. His breaths were too light for his body, not that Nanook had much knowledge on how the human instrument was to be used. There was an idea that pulled on his heart, and it was hinting to him that there was more rest that was needed for a proper recovery. In the meantime, Nanook decided he would go hunt for food and more nursing equipment to keep bettering his.



"Some secrets are better silent," Nanook scoffed at the trees as he entered the cave, once again. They had been mocking him the entire time. He knew they might tell his father, who would be furious. Fortunately, the trees could be trouble makers and were not necessarily the loyalist of creatures. Like humans, Nanook told himself. His face scrunched at the thought. Trees could be just as bad as humans, but humans could be better than trees. His mouth grimaced at the thought of his friend Osha's counter argument. She was always dismissing the more elaborate thinking creations as lesser than the ones who could barely think for themselves, such as the trees. She normally won, but Nanook always told himself she didn't know what she was harping about. She only lived in the water. She would always counter argue his claim at her lack of knowledge by saying the water was greater than the land. Nanook was sure the wind stirred the ocean more than the ocean stirred the wind, though. His mother always told them to stop arguing: everything was equally important to each other, and there was no reason for petty quarrels and judgments.

It might have been his mother who unknowingly caused him to question his father's authority. If there was no reason for petty quarrels and judgments, then why were humans the enemies? They were the opposite of the enemies; they were their allies, their friends. The yeti were supposed to care for their human counterparts. It was evident that the yeti were neglecting their duties, and Nanook was determined to make things right. He was going to make sure the trees did not get him into trouble. Yet, anyways.

Shrubs had been pulled to cover his and keep him warm. Nanook had also found food, successfully avoiding seeing Osha. She was good at surprising him, knowing the waters so well. The avalanche had probably scared her away. She was not as daring as Nanook was. Playing in the aftermath of an avalanche sounded like a fun idea, but he had something more important and dutiful to attend, such as his. A warm smile, weary from venturing rested in a purr as a King Salmon plopped from his mouth. Puncture wounds had caused the fish to cease its struggles. Nanook could not remember when the Salmon had passed; he had been too busy trying to scurry through the snow without getting distracted by the world. Secretly, he wished he had known, feeling badly that he had not been able to gift him a parting silence of gratitude for sacrificing his life for that of a human's life.

Nanook laid himself gently next to his, letting the smaller creature catch the warmth of his larger mass. Small breaths were still casting small ghosts from his mouth. They seemed more alive, now. The parted lips were more colorful, and the eyebrows were less furrowed. The body had knitted itself into a sturdier weave. His human would be already. Nanook knew this and in acknowledgement, he extended his paw to caress the smooth skin. The notion was one for love and care, while also holding a juvenile curiosity that so much wanted to know more than his mind was able to express in anything but direct touch. They had survived together. Without each other, they would not both have survived. It troubled him little that yetis lived without their humans, but it troubled him greater that humans lived without their yetis. There was nothing humans could have possibly done to deserve such a punishment. Surely, it was forgivable.

It was dark, for white some time. His body felt nothing, moved little. Everything Nasim did was purely dependent upon the bodies natural instinct to survive. It worked tirelessly to repair itself, body blazing with a cold sweat fever. The air around him was ice cold, dropping his temperature yet a fever raged inside of him. Several bones were fractured, some sprained, a few broken. It was mostly his ribs and left ankle, though most of the damage was avoided thanks to the beats the human had no knowledge of existing, save for ancient tales of a spirit that watched over their townspeople in the olden times.

They were nothing but fairytales to whisper to children. They ignited dreams and whispers of other mystical creatures. They were nothing but fabels or...at least that's what Nasim was convinced of. He wouldn't learn of his mistake for several days. He was cold and working on recovery without anything more than a warm furred body wrapped around him.

The day after being taken to the cave, the human stirred for only a moment. Heavy eyelids fluttered yet did not open. Whatever consciousness was trying to claw forwards lost its battle fairly quickly. The third day was silent, a soft groan of pain here and there but there was no big change until the fifth day. That day Nasim did more than groan or let his eyelids flutter.

No, his eyes opened, cracking ever so slightly to peer up at the world. His head ached and his throat was dry. His tongue pressed out only to swipe over dry, cracked lips. Nasim groaned, fingers twitching at his sides. He struggled to move, body slowly coming to as he worked on moving his limbs.

Everything hurt to a nearly blinding degree. He didnt remember much of what happened, only a towering wall of white, a pounding roar, and then darkness. His chest burned with each inhale of breathe, the effort to sit up proving futile as his body refused to cooperate. He was in too much pain, too weak to do anything.

A cry bubbled up, weak and pitiful. Nasim didn't know where he was or why. He could only assume he was dragged here by some wild animal for whatever reason. If that was the case then why was he alive now? The question was fleeting as he turned his head, groaning as the pain flared, tingling up the back of his neck and spreading around the top of his skull.

Tears brimmed, a choked sob, as the pain verged on too much.

He didn't understand.

Where was he?

Why was he here?

Where was his father? Mother? Sister?

Nothing made sense!

Several nights had gone by since Nanook had last gone back to his pack. He imagined his mother worrying about whether she should bring his absence to his father. The young yeti imagined his father scolding his mother’s worries. His ominous bark would say something about his son’s age. Yes, Nanook was old enough now. Ila should know. Motherly intuition should speak for itself. Does she not know her own kin? Why, she gave birth to him and reared him herself. Of course, she did.

Oh, it was cubbish for him to think that his parents would even have such a conversation. He knew it, too. It was guilt tugging on his ears. He could feel it scratching his fur and patting the tops of his head. Trying to shake the temptation, Nanook quickly and impatiently blamed the trees for all their whispering. It was not fair. He should not feel anything wrongly. If anything, he deserved the feeling of rightness for truth and honor:


And, his was living! He pushed from his mind the thought of his father’s or mother’s having departed this life already. A selfishness to not spoil his moment surfaced like a great beast conquering the forested mountains of his thoughts. He was too old to worry about such cares and feelings. For this moment, it was for his. Nanook nustled his nose against the tan, smooth skin lying next to him. Every once in a while, his would move. The shifts were always exciting, even in the painful state that fluttered wearily in-and-out of the tenderness that dressed his smaller instrumental frame.

His was so delicate. They all must be this delicate, even the evil ones. It was a disturbing thought on two things, the yeti counted: one, the humans had been left without the yeti -- this thought could not escape him without such mysterious confusion that his head always felt heavy and dark with a stomach ache when it came to him; and two, the evil humans could be so scary that the yeti had coward away from their responsibilities. There was a lie lining the silver tongued stories of these two thoughts, and it made the young creature sick to ponder.

Nonetheless, to ease his troubled mind, Nanook replayed memories of the past two or three days and nights. Such of these memories were: the first time he saw his’ eyes open and how he had felt like an eidolon was whispering a tale as old as time through the dark color of his pupils. It was a sensation Nanook could only remember from a distant memory that was too far away for him to recollect by himself. It was a chilling memory that offered a strong comfort and exhilarating yearning. He never wanted to lose it, no matter what. It was the truth that he had been searching for, and there was a bond shared in both of them amongst that truth. Nanook knew if he believed in his, they would both survive this. He could already hear the beats of his heart returning to the sounds of the wind, and Nanook trusted the wind. As much as the wind gathered its way around the mountains, it was never such a gossiper as the trees.

The wind could be surprising, though. The wind blew many in, and many had gone with the wind. But, whatever the case, the wind was very constant, even in its idiosyncrasies. Nanook rustled his fur against his with a hopeful wish for an awakening. The pain of the frail human was shivering through the yeti, and yet, he was feeling an impatience for an awakening. He wanted to know his was okay sooner than later. However, despite his movement, even in his juvenile curiosity, he knew within himself that he would not mind so much waiting for an eternity to hear the consciousness of his return. It was his duty, after all. His parents could wait for such an occurrence. They always did and always have. He had the truth to keep himself still for this amount of time, and he fully intended to do so.

Nanook still let out a small wheeze. It was similar to the one he would give his mother when she was sleeping, and he would awaken early and wish to feed or play. Admittedly, he had done this recently. Although, it was only because his mother was always treating him like a young cub. He did not want to hurt her feelings by growing up too quickly. In fact, it was probably his care for her that had caused him to wander so courageously into the midnight of his birthday. All of his might had been cooped into lullabies and nursery rhymes. He needed time away from the pack.

Nanook rested his head, again. His warm breaths smoked the frailty of his. Maybe his mother was worried about him. Like I haven’t wandered off before, he told himself. Besides, I’m not a cub anymore. Papa will tell her. Not that he really wanted to think about his father, right now. His father was good for something. He was not about to tell the trees that. They were too far away to really make means of what was happening inside the cave. He thanks the narthex for such an extended stay and shelter. Even the wind was having a hard time catching whiffs of what was happening.

It seemed the entire land was unable to see through the veil. Of course, there was much talk. Nanook had made his appearance quite recklessly. He had not lost all his teeth, and his limbs were not as strong and sturdy as his father's ferocious timbers. There was honesty that could not be concealed or shaken from the lands on his whereabouts. Nanook was known for his mischievous behavior, but despite the pettiness of the forests, Nanook was certain their spot was well hidden. The trees had told him about the cave, after all. He decided he would give them some sort of thanking gift later, when he knew their lips would not repeat what their eyes and ears yearning to spread.

Nasim

It was blurry, fuzzy, his mind as it blinked in and out of reality. There were glimpses, bright lights, whiteness and....something warm. There was always something warmth, an ever present calmness that soothed him whenever his eyes would flutter and the pain would wash away even if only a little. How long he had been out, it wasn't very clear to him, but the human knew one thing....he was in pain. Eyes fluttered, thick lashes brushing tanned cheeks as they worked their way open, a feat easier said than done. His entire body ache, the pain dancing across the border of unbearable as it radiated from his right humerous and left femur. It pulsed and throbbed, the bones obviously snapped like twigs beneath a hunter's boot in the snow that pummeled his frame.

Wait...avalanche.....

It was coming back now, quick snippets of memory. He saw them, his guides as they took him up the mountain. It was his right of passage, his journey to become a man, his father looking upon him with pride as he started his trek up the hillside. This was supposed to be the great feat of his life and then...and then what? Something had happened, the roar of the mountain still echoed in his mind. "...Nnn..." a groan, soft and low in his chest, the struggle to rouse himself as eyes focused on what was surrounding him. It was something thick and white and coarse and it surrounded everything. It was....what the hell was it, muscles crying in a fiery protest as his uninjured arm opened to smooth his hair from his face. It hurt, then again, everything hurt as something thick and rough was felt beneath his fingertips.

Nails dug in, scrapping and lifting flakes of red from his cheek, Nasim knew instantly what it was. He cursed, a mental hiss of pained annoyance as bleary eyes focused. He needed to stay on track, to remember what he was trying to do. His eyes pushed up again, gazing at stone that created the ceiling above him. Confusion wafted through his mind, unaware of how he got here. It didn't make sense, wasn't possible less someone found him in the remains of snow but....no, no that couldn't be. No one lived this high up the mountain. There were no beasts to hunt, no crop to nourish. It was a freezing wasteland meant to test the survival skills of the young so that they many prove themselves worthy of manhood. So no, no this couldn't be anyone else's doing, so how, then, did he wind up here.

Head turning, the ache of tired muscle radiated through his neck and skull, finding more white. The first thought was snow, but it was far too soft, far too warm, to be such a thing. The hand that still worked, still moved, reached slowly, pressing against the soft hairs to find something hot and firm beneath it. Nasim felt a pulse, the steady thrum of live that pumped through veins and his wondering only grew as he made his neck arch through the pain to find a face, but not just any face. It was the face of a beast, humanoid in nature with a pink snout and brilliant icy blue orbs. There was a familiarity there when chocolate met ice, but the face that accompanied it wasn't one he should be seeing.

Fear, that was the first thing that registered, body jerking away from the arms that held but the human didn't get far. Half of his body didn't work, crippled form flopping back down as the pain pinned him to the ground. The worry was in his eyes, the fear in the way his body tensed as he fought to move even the tiniest bit away. He didn't know what this thing was, friend or faux, but it had dragged his battered body here and surely there was nothing good to come of it.

The calm sounds of the wind had become more familiar to Nanook. Both were beginning to agree to each other's coming and going. So much that Nanook was beginning to the trust the wind's sound to wake him if anything were about to happen. Nanook knew not many creatures listened to the wind all the time, unless she was making a lot of noise. Usually, she was quiet, and hearing her took patience and effort than listening to other creatures of the mountain. He was certain she would be a great deal of help for him while he was alone with his in the cave -- for more than keeping the trees quiet. The wind had made Nanook her friend, but in so doing, she had combed any nurturing story about Nanook's human from her whispers and let the yeti stray into a sleep right before his would begin awakening. To let the yeti know anything about his human would be breaking their simple friendship of not making mention of Nanook's secret.

The lulls of the wind outside the save were still silently rocking his mind back-and-forth when a nudge nestled under his fur, and sensing the movement underneath himself, Nanook stirred in his pale slumber. At first, he had drifted into some place that felt comfy in his mind. His thoughts had been terribly uneasy, and this dream place was nursing him quite well. Although, there was a small piece of the cub's embarrassment, having known that this daydream revolved around his young carelessness. His eyelids slowly opened, feeling the heavy entrance of the past days' journey come scurrying back to his mind. A low breath rumbled through him; it was something his father did upon awaking every morning. It was like an ison, a drone sound that setting the cadence for the day. Nanook had never made such a sound before now; even if it sounded like a habit. It took him by surprise, but the gruff melody kept his large body from making any sudden movements that may have crushed the nimble soul, tucked within his strong limbs.

Nanook's frame flexed and pushed upwards, letting his have more room. He partially sensed an urgency or some sort of freight to shiver through the spirits of his, but it was nothing so strong as what he had felt when the two creatures had connected for the first time. The yeti pondered this phenomenon briefly with an unsure brevity and curtness. It was an uneasy feeling that warranted some doubt and confusion. The first moments had been been such an indescribable sweetness, and the adoration for the first touch was now long withstanding as being engraved for his definition of love. However, in this moment, Nanook, now in the presence of his having similar alertness, the eternal pull was not as distinct. Nanook did not enjoy this discomforting difference. He immediately tried to rid himself of this bittersweet sensation he was feeling.

Of course, it was only right that he should feel nothing but happiness that his had awoken from so many hours of slumber. He knew full well that he should feel much ease and delight that he had managed to hush the trees and lull the birds from gossip and anything else that might cause his pack to know or discover anything remotely about his whereabouts. He was committing a crime in his father's eyes, after all, -- even if he knew there were more truths than to the ones his ancestors were passing down from generation to generation. To be seen with a human would cause such an alarm that perhaps the entire mountain would grow sick and begin spitting herself up, again. Nanook did not wish for another upset mountain nor for something so deadly to happen to his; but he did wish for that stronger connection he felt with his during the snowy turmoils, again.

His torso shifted slightly, white paws curling with sleepy movements that broke the hazy light that had crept its way into the mouth of the cave. Small shadows gestured as the yeti turned his head, and his small snout poked between the himself and his, to push his own pink nose against the dark, hairless human fabric. The feel of the velvet skin, was soft against his nose, now sniffing playfully by kiddish accident against his neck and collarbone before pulling away in excitement, "Awake?" his voice cut coarsely in a juvenile manner through the silence that had veiled the trees' rumors. His blue eyes studied the human's gentle frame. It was so fragile, and he could see through thin skin places where his could easily be hurt if handled the wrong way.

His smelled differently than when his was fast asleep. He liked the way his smelled. He could not describe the smell. His was an unusual smell. But, his was also a very good smell. His smelled like something he was supposed born to love.His smelled like he was his. There was another smell that Nanook understood. His ears also agreed with his nose. His eyes were having a hard time observing this, however. There was something more knowledgeable about him that Nanook could hear and smell. The way the stiff air hovering around him was different. Even the darkness acknowledged a cautious nobility when drifting through the cave. Nanook could not see this knowledge like he wished, but his ears and nose noticed it with a stern affluence. He had been so concerned about what everything outside the cave would hear that he had not perceived in the least this new detail about his, until now. It made so much sense about all the legends he had been told about humans. They were the kings of the earth. It was great honor for Nanook to know that his was a human.

Pulling his squashed nuzzle away from his, Nanook tucked his ears back, keeping his head lowered. His body peeled away slowly, as well. Each paw took a careful step backwards, not wanting to make any sudden movements. He felt huge in comparison to the delicate creature in front of him and did not want to scare his. Larger creatures usually frightened him, especially the big bears. He understood the feeling of being intimidated by size, especially in that of a stranger. Nanook was young, but in this much, he was not naive enough to trust anyone. Blind trust was for cubs. Cubs still trusted trees. It was true that they (like the birds) rarely ever angered trees, as well; but Nanook thought trees to be tattletales; and he usually got in trouble for tattletaling.

"Awake?" Nanook asked again in a small whine, trying his hardest to sound as nonthreatening or angering as possible. His mouth stretched into a small smile, and his eyes perched with the expression. He knew many creatures feared teeth being shown, but for his, he could not hold back his hopefulness. He also knew Osha enjoyed smiles, and her face looked very similar to that of his. He thought of times when his mother had told him that he had thought too quickly on an answer to something and been wrong. He did not want this to be one of those such times. It was not because he thought his could do anything to him if he felt threatened, but Nanook did not want his to feel any more discomfort than he already did. His was not already a sensitive instrument, but his was also very wounded.