The Howling One swallowed another chunk of deer and licked her lips. Sophie was having a hard time breathing. This thing… ate people. The Howling One ate people. She was people. The Howling One was going to eat her. Whatever brief illusion of comfort she had found was shattered.

“What are you freaking out about?” the Howling One asked, sawing at some sinew with her talon.

“Y-you eat humans,” Sophie stuttered.

“I eat what is available, meat is scarce,” she shrugged, as if Sophie’s concern was misplaced.

“I don't want to be eaten!” Sophie yelled, the building anger of this whole experience finally coalescing.

The Howling One leaned forward with surprising speed. Sophie couldn't get back fast enough as she tapped a talon over Sophie’s heart. “You have a heart of ice, Sophia. You are only as human as you want to be.”

The Howling One was way too close to comfort. Sophie had known she was big but this was different. The Howling One was at least eight feet tall and crouched over her; she was very intimidating. Hello, nipples.

It wasn't her proudest thought but she was freaking out. The Howling One’s reassurances didn't make her feel much better. What did that even mean? Her mind was too scattered to make sense of things.

The Howling One leaned back on her haunches with a sigh.

Sophie tried to crawl away but put too much pressure on her leg making her swear in pain.

“You are badly injured, would you like me to help?”

Sophie didn't know what to say. So she settled on the truth. “I… I don’t know if I should trust you.”

“Why would I rescue you only to harm you?”

“I don’t know,” Sophie mumbled.

The Howling One muttered something to herself and returned to her deer. Eagerly digging into its flesh. Sophie’s stomach protested at the fact she hadn’t eaten anything.

Trusting the Howling One seemed like a bad idea and yet… What choice did she have? If the Howling One wanted her dead she could just kill her. Sophie couldn't even walk. In fact, the only way she would survive was if the Howling One helped. God, it really was a pretentious name, wasn't it?

Maybe the Howling One needed a nickname. The Howling One sounded intimidating but… Howly didn’t. A cute nickname already made the Howling One seem less intimidating. Maybe she was just losing her mind.

“Can I call you Howly?” Sophie asked.

The Howling One glanced up at her with a look of disinterest. “Humans have been giving me names for centuries, what does it matter?”

“I uh… don’t want to call you something you don’t like,” Sohpie shrugged.

The Howling One cocked her head and squinted at Sophie for a moment. “Howly is acceptable,” she finally replied.

Sophie smiled. See already far less threatening.

“Can you say ‘Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear, Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair, Fuzzy Wuzzy wasn’t fuzzy, was he?’”

Howly sighed. “Will you come and eat if I do?”

“Yup,” Sophie replied. The thought of raw meat wasn't appealing but this was definitely helping her get over her fear.

“Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear, Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair, Fuzzy Wuzzy wasn’t fuzzy, Wuzzy?” Howly repeated the best she could before snarling in annoyance. Sophie couldn't stop herself from laughing. “I am glad you are amused,” Howly huffed but Sophie caught a glimpse of a smile.

Sophie scooted forward, a ridiculous memory the perfect defence against survival instincts. “How come you speak English anyway?” Sophie asked, staring down at the deer carcass, her appetite suddenly gone. She wasn't that hungry.

“I carved out a man’s tongue and ate it,” she replied matter-factly.

“W-what?” Sophie stuttered.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Do not fool yourself into believing humans know anything about the world,” Howly sniffed, tearing something jiggly from the deer. Sophie looked away as her stomach lurched.

Sophie by now had very much noticed a pattern of Howly’s answers making absolutely no sense.

“Eat,” Howly ordered, holding up an oozing chunk of flesh.

Sophie forced back a gag. “I’d really rather cook it.”

“Fine fine,” Howly grumbled and stood. “Are you going to crawl after me or would you like me to carry you?”

“Uhh… carry me please,” Sophie replied with embarrassment. She hadn’t been eaten so far and there was no way she was going to crawl after Howly.

Howly crouched down beside her and slipped an arm under Sophie’s knees. Sophie shivered, Howly was shockingly cold to the touch. Her cold hand pressed against Sophie’s face was a foggy memory, Howly seemed like the cold incarnate.

“Wrap your arms around my neck,” Howly ordered. Her breath created no steam. Sophie did so and Howly picked her up. It wasn’t really the bridal carry Sophie had expected. Howly was big enough that she simply tucked Sophie against her chest.

Howly was gentler than expected but the motion still hurt. Sophie’s only complaint was that Howly seemed to radiate cold, but it wasn’t as penetrating as it was with her bare skin. And the fact that Howly was absolutely getting blood on her clothes. Actually, that one was far more upsetting.

“Why are you so cold?” Sophie asked instead of complaining as Howly carried her deeper into the cave. The dim light grew fainter.

“Why is your world so horribly hot?” Howly retorted with a short.

Would it kill her to give a straight answer? Her cryptic answers just made her uneasy. She was some kind of monster, apparently not from “this world” and could learn languages by eating someone’s tongue. None of it made any sense. Most of all was the fact she ate people, something that terrified Sophie. Cannibalism was pretty up there with stuff not to do. Granted it wasn’t really cannibalism if Howly wasn’t human. Sophie didn’t really want to continue that trail of thought.

Yet this woman, who was clearly a vicious predator, had only been gentle and more or less kind to her. Why? What the hell had made Howly decide not to eat her? Taking pity on her seemed unlikely. Too good to be true. If food was scarce then Howly couldn’t afford pity.

Howly carried her around a bend and stepped under a wooden beam into another chamber. There was barely any light in this one. Sophie could only make out vague shapes.

Sophie felt herself being lowered down and she braced to meet the hard stone. Instead, she found herself on something soft and vaguely… plastic. Pulling off her mittens she felt below her, it was a sleeping bag.

“I will turn on the light,” Howly said, standing and moving away. A moment later there was a click before the room was illuminated. Howly was squinting uncomfortably at a lantern she had turned on.

“T-Thanks,” Sophie replied, looking around.

The room was smaller than the last. Howly had set Sophie down on what she realized was a nest. A collection of sleeping bags and furs all wrapped up together. Unlike the previous room, this one felt far more… human. Supplies were piled everywhere. Lamps, tents, matches, empty water bottles. In one corner was a pile of backpacks. This was Howly’s hoard, all of the human belongings she had collected.

Yet it was clear she used them. A foldable table had a comb and a windup radio on it. It was… cute in a horrifying way.

Howly gave Sophie a lingering look before putting the lantern down and crouching beside a pile of stuff. Rummaging through them before pulling out a first aid box.

“You will have to undress,” Howly said, crouching down beside Sophie and opening the kit with a bloody claw. That could not be sanitary.

“I uh… your hands are kinda dirty,” Sophie pointed out.

“Fine, you do it then,” Howly huffed, despite the growling undertone Sophie didn’t think it was meant to be threatening.

Sophie took the first aid kit and began the long process of removing her snow pants. Howly stood and ducked out of the room, disappearing out of sight. Sophie didn’t even notice until Howly was gone. Being alone was far scarier than anything else.

“She’ll be back,” Sophie said to herself, as she shimmied out of her snow pants. Every shift and jerk sent pain flaring through her leg. Getting the snow pants over her ankles and her boots off was the worst part.

She took several deep breaths wiping the sweat from her brow. The pain was far too severe for this to be some minor. She felt somewhat dizzy. There was no way she was going to be able to take her jeans off.

On second thought, maybe closing her eyes for a minute and waiting for the room to stop spinning was a better idea. She gasped to try and get her breathing under control. Her leg really fucking hurt, all the movement had aggravated it.

“Let me do it.”

Sophie failed to hold back a shout, she hadn’t even noticed Howly's return. “Fuck! You scared the shit out of me,” she cursed.

Howly wrinkled her nose.

“Not literally, you just scared me,” Sophie grumbled, apparently sarcasm went over Howly’s head. “I don’t think I can get my jeans off,” she finally admitted.

“I will cut them off,” Howly said, raising her talons. Apparently, she had been able to clean them somewhere. Still, she wasn’t sure she wanted those massive claws near her presumably broken leg. “I will be gentle.”

“Ok,” Sophie acquiesced, what choice did she have?

Howly's claws were scarily sharp and she began to cut away her jeans with ease. It still hurt but being able to just lie back and breathe did wonders.

The back of Howly's cold hand traced up her thigh making her shiver, not entirely from the cold. She hadn't really considered how much of her would be exposed. Howly repeated the motion with Sophie’s other leg and pulled the jeans away.

Sophie began to shiver. The cave wasn’t warm by any means and a jacket didn’t do much when all she had was underwear and socks from the waist down.

The sight of her leg however was distraction enough. Her foot was effectively loose in her skin. Her leg was broken just above the ankle, the skin dark purple and swollen. She felt sick. She really shouldn’t have been moving as much as she had. But she hadn't had a choice and so simply put up with the pain. Who knew how much worse she had made it? Her only saving grace was it hadn't broken the skin.

The blood was still inside her body which was more or less where it should be.

“Look at me Sophie,” Howly ordered.

Sophie forced her gaze away from her fucked up leg.

“Close your eyes and take a deep breath.”

Sophie did as instructed, as least as best she could. The cold was getting to her, goosebumps ran down her legs. Her teeth chattered. She guessed she was probably going into shock again, that it wasn’t just the cold.

She felt Howly drape a blanket over her.

“Take a deep breath.”

Sophie did which turned into a whimper as Howly briefly touched her leg. She dug her nails into her palms to stop herself from moving.

“Both your tibia and fibula are broken,” Howly somehow deduced.

“How can you be sure?” Sophie panted.

“I like to read,” Howly replied.

The image of Howly hunched over some medical textbook made Sophie snort despite how insane it was. The pain was definitely getting to her.

Howly pressed the back of her hand to Sophie’s forehead. Sophie hissed, it was painfully cold but it was anchoring.

Howly grabbed the first aid kit and zipped it open. She pulled out a bottle of pills and handed them to Sophie. Painkillers, nice, expired, less nice but unlikely to be a problem. She took double the recommended dose and gagged while trying to swallow them dry. A sacrifice that would have to be made.

Howly on the other hand had pulled a splint out of somewhere and was in the process of bending it to fit her leg. She really did seem to know first aid, which was strange but Sophie wasn't going to complain.

“Just get it over with,” Sophie muttered when Howly stopped to look at her. Howly nodded and got to work, Sophie bit down on her jacket to stop from crying out as Howly readjusted her broken leg.