Waiting For Sunrise

"I can't hear myself think!" Nel screamed over the barking of Blarney and Filibuster. Peter shook his head, eyes slivered in the frigid gale that cut through even his warmest parka. The whistling of the wind made him nervous as he strained to listen, trying to discern if that was just the storm, or the howl of another rampage of abominations.

"The tracks are fading fast in this blizzard," Peter hollered back. He knelt down at the vague impressions left by what he'd hoped was Ash. He jumped, nearly stumbling back when Barney leapt in front of him, snarling and barking. Peter backed away, not sure what had agitated the pups.

"I wish she'd put them in a kennel!"

"We should go back before we get lost," yelled another voice. Peter and Nel squinted at the vague shape, barely standing out against the sheet of white.

"We can't! Not until we find Ash!" Peter shouted back.

"Aye! But either he's found shelter or hasn't. We won't do him any good if we freeze to death looking for him. Once the weather settles, we can continue searching!"

Peter looked down at Blarney who had gone from barking to whining, his tail drooped. Nel stood behind Peter, but kept her distance from the agitated canine. "What do you think, Nel?"

"We keep going forward! I'm not going to rest until I find my boy!" Nel said, a voice imperious and almost accusatory, as if insinuating that Peter were the lesser parent for not saying as much.

"The rest of the party can go back, but we'll continue on together!" Peter shouted back.

"You're crazy!"

"I'm a father!"

"Still crazy!" The other villager shouted. "Come on, let's go back!" he yelled, assumedly to the rest of the group who were spread out beyond Peter's vision. The silhouette whited out and Peter suddenly felt keenly alone, even with his wife at his side. His wife, and a very animated pup.

"What is it Blarney? Or... are you Filibuster?" Peter squinted, unable to see the paws buried in the snow. The only way he knew to tell them apart was that one had white paws, the other did not.

Nel groaned and shook her head. "We don't have time to play with dogs, Peter! We need to move, now!" She grew more distance as she followed the ever vanishing furrow they'd discovered. Peter took a few steps but heard a growl to his left, causing him to look at the canine. The dog sniffed the air, ears perked forward, then began loping off on an oblique trajectory, the other wolfdog soon joining him.

"What if they know where Ash is?" Peter pointed to where the dogs had run off. They paused just barely within Peter and Nel's limited field of vision, wagged their tails, and looked back.

"I'm not going to trust in those mutts if Rena isn't here directing them!" Nel answered as she picked up her pace. If Peter didn't want to lose her in the blizzard, he had to get a move on as well. He gave one last look at the pair of wolfdogs before he trotted after his wife. He heard a sharp bark, and then the dogs vanished.

"And then you crawl in! Don't worry, the snow'll fill up the hole!" Ash said proudly as he looked at the impressive mound in front of him. Cat smiled in a humouring way.

"Your parents taught you well," she remarked. "But you forgot one part. We need a hole to breathe though, but that is fixed easily enough." Cat grabbed a large fallen branch that they had been using as an excavating tool and drove it through the artificially created bank. She twisted and stirred until a large hole poked through in the lee. As a precaution, she made another one.

"Oh, my parents didn't teach me that, though they teach me lots!" Ash said as he watched Cat work.

"In you get," Cat instructed, pointing the gnarly branch to the low opening. Ash didn't waste much time, eager to get out of the biting wind. After him came three adults and they all barely fit. Sheltered from the elements, their body heat soon provided ample warmth. But it also provided ample smell, to which Ash wasn't too good at hiding his disdain.

"What did you eat?" Ash's voice came out rubbery and quackish due to his pinched nose.

"Don't ask."

The blizzard raged on, and one of the men frequently had to unclog the vents with a branch, which was awkward to handle in the cramped space. More than once someone was jabbed unintentionally with sticks, feet, or elbows. Tempers flared a few times, and Ash made himself as small as possible. At first he was content to natter away, but these people were getting growly and making him uncomfortable. They used words either he was forbidden to use, or didn't even know, but had a feeling his mother would forbid it if she did hear them.

When the howling of the wind died down and the air holes weren't filling as quickly, they dug themselves out. The snow was still falling, but in lazy clumps of cotton. Ash was eager to get out and move. He could tell the adults were as well, evidenced by the numerous cracks and sighs. It reminded him of his grandmother, who would often make the exact same sigh after a series of snaps and creaks from her 'dear old bones'. He wondered why his bones didn't sound like that.

"So... where are you all from?" Ash asked, feeling now it was safe to return to his inquisitive nature once he was out of stick range.

"Graft. Settlement south of here," Cat answered, using the stick to lean against as she surveyed the plains.

"Never heard of it." Ash was hoping these people would be from the same Ward, although he wasn't entirely sure what a Ward was. Just that Fisham belonged to it. These people are not belongers. Just like... "Do you know Anna?"

"Sorry. Don't know anyone named Anna. Knew an Anya, but she's dead." Cat shrugged, squinting as she turned back to the tangle of trees they stood on the border of.

"Oh. She said she came from the south and her home was wiped out by Vamps. Is that what happened to you, too?" Ash asked, excitement tinging his voice. Cat looked at the two men who were starting to spread out.

"Something like that. You said your town survived a Vamp attack?" Cat signed something to the two men which they seemed to understand, but Ash didn't. It was neat, though. He should learn secret hand gestures to use with Maple. Though they'd probably not stay secret long.

"YES! I was in bed when they attacked, but I heard all about it. A bunch of them came and our archers shot them with fire!" Ash said excitedly, illustrating with a pantomime of someone firing a bow. "And blasted their faces off with shotguns!" The little boy noisily puffed out his cheeks and mimicked a shotgun being pumped. "And we had people on the ground lopping off heads!" He swung his arms like a lumberjack. "Mom was MAD when the hunters told me. Said it was too scary, but I'm not scared!"

Cat laughed as they moved further into the trees. "I'm sure you aren't. Hmmm I'm sure your home isn't far from here. Rows of poplars, larches, then pines? These were planted."

"Yeah! We got lots of trees. I'd never seen so many trees until we went to Fisham!" Ash babbled excitedly.

"You aren't from Fisham originally?" Cat asked as they picked out a path through the naked deciduous trees.

"Well, no. We lived underground, just the four... um..." Ash stared at his mitted hands in dismay, unable to count on his fingers. "Mom... Dad... Maple... Rena! Just the four of us!"

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"Five, including yourself."

"Just the five of us!" Ash quickly amended. "But Dad is from Fisham so we went back because it's safer there."

"What makes Fisham so safe?" Cat asked as she casually reached out, snapping a branch partially, but leaving it hanging limp on the tree. How odd, why break a branch if not to keep and swing around?

"Walls and weapons, I guess," Ash said after giving it careful consideration. "Though I think we'd have been fine with just Rena. She killed TWO vamps all by herself!"

"Did she?" Cat asked, squinting at the small boy. Something about how she was looking at him caused his ears to get really hot. It wasn't just the well insulated hood he had up over his head.

"YEAH! No one can beat Rena! She's strong and-" Cat's eyes widened and she grabbed Ash suddenly, pushing him behind her. He squawked indignantly at being treated that way. However his protest was cut short when Cat brandished a handgun. His eyes went wide with wonder; he'd never seen such a small gun. He then looked at where she was pointing it, and although one might think it impossible, his eyes opened further.

Standing between two trees, head low and hackles bristling, was one of Rena's wolves. And Cat had her gun aimed at him.

"NO! Don't shoot!"

BANG

"What was that?"

"Was that gunfire!?"

Peter and Nel looked at each other in alarm. In unison their feet set into motion, running towards the source, dodging trees and hopping over branches and drifts.

Nel screamed, her feet slipping beneath her as she tried to halt. Two wolves ran out in front of her, snarling and growling. Nel's arms went wide as she fell back, barely caught by her startled husband, who knocked into a tree behind him. The wolves eyes were blackened, their teeth bare, and drool dangled from their dark lips.

"...What do we do?" Nel asked, afraid to approach the wolves. "I can't tell Rena's wolves from feral ones... what if Ash..."

"Don't say that," Peter urged, disturbed at the thought.

"But he doesn't understand the difference!"

The two wolves snapped their jaws at each other then bounded off to Nel's relief.

"No blood on their muzzles, so that's a relief," Peter said after a long, steady exhale of the air.

"Is that supposed to be funny!?"

"Not at all, Nel, not at all," Peter said grimly.

Nel stood up straight, dusting some snow off of her coat. She began marching forward again. Peter quickly followed suit, but looked off to where the wolves had gone. Again, he wondered if they were trying to warn him of something, or if they were just as scared and unsettled by the gunshot.

"Peter..."

"Yes?"

Nel looked straight ahead as she took the lead, picking her way through the staggered trees. "Nevermind. We'll talk about it when we get back. All that matters right now is finding Ash."

Peter opted not to say anything, not that he had much time before Nel broke into a run again. He picked up the pace and soon they ran into a small clearing.

Everything happened fast. They saw a figure standing there and came to an abrupt stop. Peter saw the gun in the stranger's hand before he saw Ash slightly behind. He couldn't stop Nel before she went running to their boy. A click was all the warning they got. That click and his son's shrill scream of "NO DON'T!"

Nel staggered back as chips of wood and bark sprayed out from the nearby tree. In confusion, Peter grabbed Nel and swung her behind him, putting himself between her and the shooter. Ash was tugging on the free arm of the stranger.

"Nel!"

"Mom!"

"Ash!" Peter put a hand out to his son, beckoning him to come quickly. His other hand held Nel's wrist tight. He was torn between checking on Nel and trying to get to his boy, but sudden movements might provoke the stranger to fire. His attention went to the woman and her gun. She slowly lowered her arm, but kept the weapon drawn.

"Are these your parents?" the woman asked. Peter kept firm eye contact with her, just willing her to put her weapon away.

"Yes! Yes!" Ash was crying now. He let the woman's hand go and came running. Peter opened his arms to receive his child, but did not take his eyes off of the shooter.

"Ash! Are you alright?" Peter didn't know of a greater feeling than his arms about his boy, squeezing him tight. A large puff of vapour could be seen as the women expelled a large sigh, seeming to deflate and go into a less hostile stance.

"Ash!" Nel called out to him. Ash squirmed away from his father and ran to Nel.

"You okay, Nel?" Peter finally asked, seeing that the woman had stood down.

"I think so, just startled." Nel answered.

"I'm... sorry, there were wolves and..." the stranger finally said, putting away her handgun.

"Those wolves have been nothing but menaces lately," Nel grumbled.

"Moooooom! Too tight! Too tight!" Ash complained, squirming in her arms even as he giggled. She loosened her grip and stood up, then winced. She craned her neck, and peter squinted, looking her over more closely. He reached for her upon seeing a rip in the sleeve of her buff-coloured coat, trimmed with dark red.

"You are hurt. Let me see." His wife didn't fight as he held her arm firmly but gently, pulling at the folds of her sleeve. With the diffuse lighting, it was hard to get a good look, but it only appeared a graze. "We can get that fixed up back home."

Nell glanced at the tear, and hissed softly as she eased her arm back to her side. Her gaze swept over to the hooded stranger who had shot at her. "Who are you?"

"That's Cat!"

"I'm Cat," Cat and Ash said at the same time. Nel placed a hand on her boy's head and narrowed her eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Nel held her hand over the graze on her upper arm. Peter placed a hand on the opposite shoulder, trying to look fatherly and imposing towards the wanderer.

"We are refugees." Cat glanced at Ash for a moment, then slowly her gaze lifted to meet Peter's once more. "Our home was overrun by vamps."

"We?" Nel's head lifted up suddenly in alarm.

"John and Art. They should be around here somewhere," Cat brought her hands to her mouth, cupping them and then spreading the fingers of one hand with her palm resting on the other. She let out a loud, musical whistle.

Peter and Nel both stood on either side of Ash, slightly facing outward as they watched the trees suspiciously. He heard the crunching of snow before catching sight of figures moving between the trees. Eventually two men stepped into the clearing, one with a bow over his shoulder, and the other with an axe at the ready. Only their lower faces were visible under thick hoods and cloaks made from patchwork hides.

"Thank you for looking out for our boy," Peter said. If not for his hat pulled low over his ears, the refugees surely would have seen his temple pulse. "We need to get him home. The sun will set soon."

Nel took Ash's hand and began backing away. Peter remained where he was, watching the three outsiders keenly, shielding his family's retreat from a potentially dangerous situation. Ash resisted Nel's attempt to lead him away. "Can't we bring them back with us? They need a place to stay!"

"Ash..." Nel whispered. "...we have to be careful who we bring back to Fisham."

"But... we brought Anna into our bunker and helped her. Why not these people?" he asked, not lowering his voice. The man with the bow crossed his arms while the man with the axe leaned against a sturdy tree trunk.

Nel looked uneasily at the refugees, then back at Ash, pulling him away by the arm. "She needed our help more. These people can take care of themselves."

Peter looked between everyone. They did help Anna, but on Rena's recommendation. But was it not time that Peter started making his own decisions? He looked back at Ash whose face was souring at the injustice. He then looked at Nel, whose arm was grazed by the careless, hair trigger response of one of these people. But that was likely brought on by fear. Peter furrowed his eyebrows.

"We rarely take in outsiders," Peter said, looking at the trio. He then looked at Nel. She was an outsider once. How did that not make her more compassionate to those like herself? He wanted to question this, but not with an audience present. "We can show you the way, but I can't guarantee that you will be given admittance. These are trying times."

Cat looked to the two men, supposedly John and Art. "That's all we ask, is to be given a chance. We're strong, healthy, and these two are good hunters. We can pull our weight."

Peter could feel his wife's questioning glare as she sighed noisily to let her protestation be known. Ash was content with this compromise and picked up his pace, following his mother more willingly.

Peter slowed and waited for Cat, John, and Art to take up position behind Nel, and then he trailed behind. Through the trees he saw the glimpse of one of the wolves, and heard a soft growl followed by a whine. Then it was gone again.