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Near Mt. Isolation, White Mountain National Forest, New Hampshire. The winter of December, 2020.
Finbar's memories swirled in a black cloud, fragmented and elusive. Faces, voices, and fleeting images danced on the edges of his consciousness, but they slipped away like shadows in the night.
The darkness enveloped him, a shroud obscuring the events that had befallen him.
And then, a flicker of awareness stirred within him, a hesitant light that penetrated the murkiness of unconsciousness. It was as if a distant echo whispered in the recesses of his mind, coaxing him back to the realm of the living.
Slowly, the veil of oblivion lifted, revealing a warm and cocooned existence. Finbar's senses gradually rekindled, registering the subtle textures of the ground beneath him and the comforting embrace of a protective place. The air, though cool, held a soothing quality that hinted at the safety of a cave.
As he blinked against the residual fog of heavy sleep, the contours of the cave materialized around him.
The walls, worn smooth by time, stood like sentinels guarding a secret haven. The darkness, once impenetrable, now seemed a benevolent cloak, shielding him from the harsh realities of the outside world.
Finbar's eyes, bright yellow orbs in the dimness, took in the details of his sanctuary. The ground was soft, layered with leaf litter. The cave was a refuge against the biting cold of the wilderness.
‘How did I get here?’ he groggily wondered, blinking as his eyes stung to hold open. ‘Am I dead?’
His initial disorientation gave way to a burgeoning sense of security. Instinctively, Finbar curled into himself, savoring the residual warmth that clung to his fur. The rhythmic pulse of his heartbeat echoed in the quietude, a reassurance that life persisted in the stillness of the cavern.
It was a rebirth of sorts, a waking from the depths of an unknown abyss. Finbar's gaze flickered around the cave, seeking clues that might unravel the mystery of his current existence. Yet, the black cloud that had shrouded his memories clung stubbornly to the recesses of his mind, revealing nothing of the way he’d ended up safe and warm after blacking out on the icy river shore.
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As the last vestiges of unconsciousness relinquished their hold, Finbar found himself at the threshold of a new reality—he felt his heart pumping his life through him, as well as the bone-deep ache from his ordeal.
“You’re finally awake.”
The unexpected words caught the dog off guard, head jerking up in a mixture of fear and surprise. A threat? Or were they the one who’d rescued him? Finbar’s yellow gaze fell upon a shadowed figure standing in the cave’s mouth, the scent of a freshly killed rabbit entering his senses among the scent of earthy decay.
How long had he been unconscious for? The fear that had gripped him just moments before had gradually ebbed away, leaving a lingering curiosity in its wake.
“Were you the one who brought me here?” The question was more a rasp than the strength he intended, the white dog struggling to lift his bruised body into a sitting position.
The shadowed figure, whom he’d now realized was a female, moved once he started to stand, the dim light in the cave allowing him to grasp a clearer image of who he was speaking to. A wolf, or what he assumed was one, her bright, golden gaze holding a whirlwind of concern and a subtle wariness.
Even in his state he could tell this stranger didn’t fully trust him.
“It would be best if you didn’t try moving. You’ve got a broken leg and if you stress yourself too much you’ll make it worse.” The stranger pressed a paw to his shoulder, gently yet firmly urging Finbar back down. “To answer your question, yes, I am. You gave me quite the scare when I first stumbled across you. I didn’t know whether you were alive or dead, but once I realized you were still breathing I dragged you here. You are quite heavy.”
Finbar stared at her for a moment, a blurred memory surfacing at her words. Ah, that’s right. He almost died. Would he have survived if this female hadn’t come across him by chance? Finbar’s ears pressed flat to his head at the thought.
No, he likely would’ve froze.
“Thank you,” he spoke quietly, taking a moment to carefully adjust his battered body to be more comfortable. “I likely wouldn’t be alive now if you hadn’t brought me here, so, thank you…?” Trailing off Finbar arched a brow at her in a silent offer for her name.
The she-wolf, light brown with a black face and tail tip, stared at him, expression seeming to flicker between hesitation and not, before a subtle smile graced her lips, head briefly bowing. “Willow is my name. There is no need to thank me, I simply did what anyone with a working brain would’ve done.”
A small chuckle left Finbar's maw at her response. “Well, I am grateful regardless, Willow. My name is Finbar. It’s a pleasure to meet you even if the circumstances aren’t exactly normal.”
The two exchanged matching smiles until Willow remembered why she’d stopped by.
Turning, the wolf hurried back to the cave’s mouth, gingerly picking up the carcass she’d brought and depositing it at Finbar’s muddy paws. “I brought this in hopes you’d be awake by now. Thankfully, you were.”