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There were dark clouds on the horizon as I looked out the window from my nice warm cabin, my home, my sanctuary against the world, the fire was crackling in the hearth form this morning, keeping my home warm a refuge against the cold, outside the wind was starting to pick up, making a faint whistling sound, a promise that the storm was on it’s way. Winter would be hear soon I would have to make sure that I would have enough supply's to last the long harsh months ahead of me, as once the snow would set in I would be all by my self in my lonely forest. But first there were more pressing issues, with the promise of rain on the horizon the storm not far off I would need to make sure I had the supply's to last this storm, who knew how long it would last for or how bad it would become.
Enjoying the last bit of warmth from my home I stepped outside into the harsh wind, pulling my oilskin clock around myself, glad that it was lined with fleece, to preserve some of the warmth that still clung to my skin.
Setting off into the forest, I let my wolf come out, each of my senses becoming sharper as the cool refreshing air filled my lungs, every scent and sound was becoming more clearer, the dark shadows of the forest growing more vivid, more alive. The earth damp and the leaf's that had already started falling from the trees crunching beneath my boots and somewhere ahead of me, the sound of a rabbit darting back to it’s burrow, it too was ready to wait out the coming storm. The birds overhead were dancing nervously up in the canopy, flashes of their wings visible through the branches, their chattering sharper then it normally was, like something had recently unsettled them. That told me what I needed to know that my traps would properly be empty today, when the forest was disturbed everything would seek the safety of the shadows.
It was unfortunate, but that was the price of living off the land. Since moving out here to the cabin I had grown used to what nature freely offered and accepting what it withheld. Still, walking through the twisting trail through the forest, I thought of the small patch of farmland I had at the back of the cabin, soon the soil would be covered in forest as winter set in, but at least the last of the harvest had been stored away safely in the shed: potatoes, carrots and a few herbs ready to be dried out for use over winter. It was enough food to keep me fed over winter, enough to survive, but I feared surviving on potato's and little else for the whole of winter would turn out to be rather boring, just the through of it alone made me sign, it would be sustenance, yes but not satisfaction.
Whilst my thoughts had been wandering, I came upon the first of my traps, a net that I had woven, that had been stretched across a narrow section of the river, to catch that fish that were swimming down stream. I hauled the net up onto the bank, the water icy against my fingers as I did so, inside the net were seven fish their silver scales glistening, even as the sky continued to darken. Not a bad catch. I placed then inside of the basket that I had brought with me, the action I’d preformed hundreds of times before grounding me. After I reset the net, I carried on down the twisting path of the forest, the earth damp beneath my boot, checking snares and gathering herbs along the way.
The air was growing colder, the dark clouds were rolling closer, the shadows from the clouds making the forest aspire darker. I decided I should turn back before the storm made its appearance, but a scent caught on the wind stopped me before I could, I was frozen. It was unlike anything I had smelt before, most scents made me queasy especially those from alphas, it was always a cruel reminder that I was a broken omega. My pack had always looked at me with pity, what good was an omega unable to bond, unable to bear life, my womb forever destined to be empty. It was why I had moved into my cabin, to the quiet of the forest, where no one could look at me with pity in their eyes, a place I could pretend that I wasn’t a broken omega, that I wasn’t a failure.
But this scent, this one was different. There was something pulling at me to follow it to find out who this scent of pine and citrus belonged too, so I follow it deeper into the forest, the deeper I got the stronger the scent became, more pronounced. But soon another scent joined it, this time metallic the scent of blood. I quickened my pace, dodging tree roots and weaving through the trees, praying that whoever the scent belonged to would still be alive and there in a small clearing, laying on wet leaves that were soaked with blood was the alpha, that one that had a scent of pine and citrus, laying in a pool of his own blood.
For a split second I through he was gone, that death had already claimed him, but training from what felt like a lifetime ago, pushed me forward. I knelt beside him, taking deep breaths to try and stop the trembling in my hands, as I tried to find his pulse. It was there, but faint, I didn’t have time be be relieved as his breathing was shallow, he needed help immediately, out here in the forest he wouldn’t last long, town was too far and he would be too heavy for me to carry and soon the storm would be upon us.
Unfastening my cloak I laid it out beside him and carefully rolled him onto it, trying not to worsen his wounds, his skin was losing its warmth and his scent was becoming weaker, the scent of blood becoming more prominent. I slung my basket crossbody glad for the strap I had added in the spring, it was now proving it worth. Gathering the corners of the cloak into my hands I started the long journey back to my cabin pulling the injured alpha along, it wasn’t the best solution to move an injured man, but it was all I had and with the storm on the horizon and the sky darkening, I just had to hope that we would make it back in time to my warm home, before the storm broke.