Legend Of A Legend

I

ALASKA, 1920:

Two small, gray lupines struggled to move through the blizzard that was blowing through the middle of the Yukon Range. The female’s belly bulged noticeably—a few small pups sat inside her, waiting to come out into the world. Her mate was attempting to help her find some shelter in which to spend the night, but none was to be seen through the cold, white blanket that encased them both. The blowing snow stung their faces—the snow was already knee-deep, and more was being piled on all the time.

Suddenly the male heard his mate cry out in pain. He looked over at her and was alarmed to see her stumble and nearly fall, convulsing uncontrollably; liquid was spilling from near her hips.

“They—they’re…here….” the she-wolf said with a pained tone in her voice.

The female grunted as one more contraction took place, and then collapsed onto the wet snow. This caused the male to gasp, for he knew that if his mate did not move, she and the unborn pups would freeze to death. Therefore, he crawled up to her and pressed his body against hers in an effort to share some of his body heat.

“Go…save yourself,” the female grunted, the pain placing her on the brink of unconsciousness.

“No,” the male responded, tears welling up in his eyes. “How could I risk you, and our pups?”

The female gasped then, and soon three tiny gray and brown wolf pups were lying on the snow, struggling to keep their lives in the harsh weather. “They’re—they’re…beau—beautiful,” the new mother said.

“Yes,” the father replied. “And so are you.” Suddenly the female began to shiver uncontrollably. “Are you okay?” the male asked her desperately.

“N-n-no. I—I’m d-d-ying-g-g.” The she-wolf touched noses with her mate for one final time as tears filled her fading eyes. “Take—take care of them,” she said.

The male looked at the three tiny bodies—the three that were just taking their first breaths of air—and he knew he had to protect them, guard them with his life. Yet even as he watched, the newborn male and one of the females slowly stopped moving. He desperately placed his ear to their tiny chests to check for a heartbeat, but the only sounds were those of the still-blowing snow and of the last pup’s shallow breathing.

He started to cry. “Two—two of them… They’re—they’re gone!” he said to his mate. “Gone!”

But there was no response. The dam, too, had succumbed to the harsh cold. Immediately, the wolf picked up his small daughter and held her close against his body in an attempt to keep her alive.

He struggled to walk through the deep snow and occasionally fell through; his will was only intact because of his pup.

Hours later, he finally found a small cave that was tucked into the base of a mountain. He set the pup down on the cool stone floor and collapsed, breathing heavily. Once he caught his breath, he said to his daughter, “Y-you’re…Adera. A-a-dera.” He then crawled over to her and placed his body over hers, insulating her from the icy cold.

Adera smiled and fell asleep.

II

TWO YEARS LATER:

“Dad, where are we going?” Adera asked, curious.

“To the place where you were born, two years ago,” he responded.

“Why?”

“Because that place holds some special memories in my heart.”

“You better not be talking about me!” Adera shot back sarcastically.

“No,” her father said. “You don’t remember, but you had two siblings: one brother and one sister.”

“Did I? Where are they now?”

Her father sighed. “I should have told you this a long time ago. Your—your mother and I…we were stuck out here when she was about to have you. There was a huge blizzard, and your mom gave birth out in the middle of nowhere. She had three pups: you and the other two I told you about before. But the pain…and the cold….”

“No!” Adera gasped.

“They—they were…too—too much….”

“They….”

“Yes,” Adera’s father said. “They…sadly…passed on.”

Adera’s expression hardened and turned into a scowl. “So I was responsible for my family’s death!”

“No—Adera—” her father said, anxious to correct her. “Don’t jump to conclusions! It wasn’t your fault.”

But Adera would not be dissuaded. She turned and ran off into the snowy mountains and disappeared.

“Adera, come back! I’m serious!” her father called after her, but there was no response. Adera would not turn around. She wove through a small thicket of trees and nearly crashed into a large rock formation. But she dodged the rocks just in time and continued to ignore her father’s increasingly desperate cries.

Then Adera turned into a narrow crevice between two steep cliffs and kept running. Why should she have to face the guilt of those three deaths, anyway?

She swerved as she nearly ran off a sharp, rocky ledge that went further down than she could see. Turning sharply to the left, she continued for about five miles until she reached the limit of the mountain range.

Only now did she realize what she had done. “Why am I doing this?” she asked herself. “All I’m going to do is get myself killed.” She reluctantly looked over her shoulder at the barren ground and began to pad slowly back to where she had been before; she knew her father must have been getting worried.

Adera made her way back through the same path she had taken minutes before, continuing east through the mountains. Her expression was still hardened—though not with guilt, but determination. She would find her father; they would both make it out alive.

Meanwhile, Adera’s father had begun his own search for his daughter. Convinced she was still running away, he desperately attempted to follow her, though he had not seen her for almost ten minutes.

He sniffed the air and found her scent lingering in the air. A smile curved across his face and he began to run after her.

“Adera!” he called after her. “I’m coming for you!” He then let out a joyful howl into the air.

But he was so distracted by the joy of knowing his daughter’s whereabouts that he did not see the cliff that even Adera had barely avoided. All he knew was that he was running—the firm ground seemed to be in his favor as he was not slipping—and then there was no ground beneath his paws. He yelped in surprise, and gravity took over, carrying his body down hundreds of feet, down to the bottom of the cliff.

III

Adera heard her father’s cry for help and gasped. Even though I may not be responsible for my mother and siblings’ deaths, if my father dies, it will be my fault. She ran toward the sound, anxious to aid her father in any way she could.

It took her nearly ten minutes to reach the spot where she heard the scream. Once she got there, though, she did not see him anywhere. “Dad,” she called anxiously, “where are you?”

Seconds later, she heard a faint voice that seemed to come from below her. “Adera, I’m…down—down here.”

With a jolt, she realized the voice belonged to her father, and he sounded like he was in great pain. “What happened?” she yelled down the cliff.

“When I was trying to find you, I didn’t see this cliff, and I fell. Help me, please.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Adera said reassuringly, though she was not sure she would be able to do anything. Tentatively, she placed one paw on the snow to see if it would hold her weight. The snow sank slightly under the pressure, but did not slip, so Adera started to climb slowly down the steep mountain. “I’m coming down, Dad!” she yelled.

She stepped down one more time, being careful not to slip; there was no telling what would happen if she fell too. But the snow was loose here, and Adera’s leg lost its hold. She began to tumble down the mountainside. Screaming, she felt herself slam into protruding rocks multiple times. Her head hit off one particularly hard rock, and she nearly lost consciousness. But she continued to fall, the blood from the wound in her head spattering everywhere.

Seconds later, Adera scraped her shoulder on a sharp rock, and a dense cluster of branches left several long scratches across her cheek. Several more trees struck her bruised form, and finally, battered and bleeding, Adera hit the rocky bottom of the cliff. Her head slammed into the ground once more and everything went black.

Hours later, Adera finally regained consciousness. Her head was filled with pain, and her face was caked with dried blood. Her vision blurred when she tried to stand up, but she kept at it. Soon she was on her feet, though she was off balance.

She quickly noticed that her side pained her excessively; she decided that some of her ribs must have been broken in the fall.

Adera looked around desperately for her father, and she soon caught a glimpse of a gray object lying in the snow. With great effort, she padded over and identified it as her father.

“D-dad!” she gasped. “Are—are you all right?”

The wolf slowly opened one eye. “Adera,” he said. “What happened to you?” A

dera grimaced at the pain, but forced herself to respond.