Eternal Regret

(started 10/3/07 – ) 

Summary: It is told that seeing a white wolf is a sign of upcoming death . . . but also that a white wolf has the power to resurrect those whose destinies are unfulfilled . . . by giving them life forever. How can a life spared from the touch of death live on . . . without feeling some sort of regret?

Rating: PG-13 for some violence, blood, depressing thoughts and images, and lots and lots of death. Not a story you’d want the kiddies to read. 

Disclaimer: The events and characters in this fic are fictional; however, there are some characters that are based on the events of Balto and Balto: Wolf Quest and actual characters from those films, as well as major resemblance to the actual story of the 1925 serum run and of a certain forgotten hero of Nome. There are also some of my own personal fan-created characters in this story as well, so do not use them as your own without the author’s permission.

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Part I: Death and Life

The four-legged creature was on the ground now, collapsed from complete exhaustion; its fur was slick and dark, no longer the bright burgundy rust that it was. The dirt and mud of the once snowy ground had started to make the creature’s coat dirty and worn, almost to the point of being easily unrecognizable for what it really was. 

It was getting dark in the area of the mountains where the creature’s weakened form now lay. The area was untouched by the mid-summer warmth, continuously freezing in the high altitude temperatures of the peak’s position. The night sky was appearing above the mountain, stars began to make their debut for the evening’s upcoming moonrise as the quadruped finally pulled its mostly dirty white head from the ground. Its eyes were once the shade of natural skylight, now they had begun to turn into the color of deep dusk, almost like a black hole. Once the head was lifted up and looked at the cloudy sky above it, the light gray eyelids covered those eyes as the creature let out a strained cry between gritted teeth. Its white belly was nearly swollen, heaving every time the creature took a breath, mostly when its pace quickened every so often; although its legs could not move a single muscle, another muscle’s job was already halfway through.

The creature’s head returned to the ground with a slight thud, for this round of pain was over. A few quick panting breaths caused it to prepare for the next series of spasms that would soon grip through its body and eventually, it knew, it would soon take its life. 

Another few moments of waiting finally passed, and another surge of pain went through the creature’s body as if it had been struck by lightning. Another strained groan escaped its mouth, now opened with all of its sharp teeth bared. The rear part of the creature’s body now had something wet covering the white under-side of its tail – something clear and something that was clearly blood-red.

The pain the creature was experiencing was not unfamiliar to it, for it had done it many times before as a breeder, but it was certain that this would be the last time it would experience this wonder in this lifetime. However, the creature was unaware of the presence of another creature that was preparing to do its eternal duty. 

It was a creature with a coat made with almost fine ivory snow, and its emotionless stare shone like light topaz gems, stuck in the shape of almond eyes. It looked at the struggling creature in front of it almost without a sense of pity in its face, knowing deep down within that something miraculous was about to be brought into the world . . . and the natural cycle of life would sacrifice another’s. Although others may be upset by the fact that this snowy creature wasn’t willing to save this creature, one must always remember the legend of this creature . . . a creature that hunters seek for the promise of something horrific.

It is told that if you see a white wolf in the wild, death was close to you, soon coming to take your soul to the afterlife; however, there was another side to them as well, for just swallowing a drop of blood from a white wolf could make one live forever. People often looked for them as a last resort in very drastic circumstances, knowing very well that they risked losing their own lives if they were unsuccessful in retrieving the elixir of life eternal, but one never cared of the consequences if they actually received such a gift. 

The now dark-red creature had done a final contraction, splashing blood and water onto the snow and brown ground beneath its hind end. A shimmering sac lay behind the creature’s tail, still connected to the other resting creature by its umbilical cord. Unfortunately, the creature lacked the strength to move its head back to open the sac and clean the tiny spawn that lay within it. It was still breathing though, but it was weak – its demise was near at hand, but the creature inside the sac would be killed as well if not released from the other before it was too late.

Again, the white wolf remained still, standing over the resting creature and its sac as if it was hovering over, waiting for the older creature to take its eternal sleep. For a moment, the ivory lupine had a change of heart for the poor creature that had just brought new life into the world . . .  

Perhaps, perhaps this one should not have to die . . . for the life of the new child would also be taken . . . What wrong has it done?

Those thoughts encircled the lupine’s mind, but they were pushed aside suddenly once a slight choking sound came from the dark-burgundy creature’s mouth. It was clear that death was almost ready to take its toll on the dam, and there wasn’t much time left to spare the life of the baby that remained within the glossy sac. 

Acting instinctively like a mother wolf, the lupine’s attention went to the sac, using its teeth to tear it open and release the cub from its cold prison. The cord that connected it to the dam broke, causing the child to instantly wail and whimper in constant intervals and shudder violently as the chilled air first wisped against its slimy, wet skin. The white wolf licked the cub, drying it with gentle wipes of its tongue until it cried less and less.

Once the cub was calm, the lupine had a faint smile on its face, for it was glad to know that a life was saved; however, when it turned to the other creature, the smile faded as it gazed at the still form of the cub’s mother. The ivory wild dog lowered its muzzle to the dam’s chest, using its nose to feel for a heartbeat, but the chest was still – she was dead. No remorse could be found in the wolf’s eyes as it licked the mother’s eyelids down, for white wolves rarely show any emotion at all, but somehow, the sight of the now motherless – and most likely orphaned – pup had begun to send a change through this lupine’s heart. 

The pup, still shivering out of lack of warmth on the mountain ground, let out an almost mournful wail; clearly it got the attention of the lupine, for it pricked its ears towards the sound and gently licked the child as it soon was placed onto the wolf’s front legs.

This one’s starting to get colder . . . If it doesn’t find shelter and some milk, this child will die . . . and after I saved its life too . . . 

What can I do?

The white wolf pondered on what to do about the bundle of new life that had begun to cuddle up against its chest. The sudden touch of the cub made the wolf gasp in fright, for this feeling was unknown to it, but as if acting on instinct, the wolf returned the gesture with a nuzzle and a lick on the child’s back. 

This one’s so precious . . . so innocent . . . I know one thing: I can not let this child die without having a fair chance at life . . .

The mystical being sighed almost like a faint whisper, feeling so powerless as it felt the returning touches of the child in its silky legs. Unfortunately, the legends say that white wolves are unable to bear children, due to their power of sensing death and their blood of eternal life; however, white wolves could still choose a mate, breed and become parents, but any cubs born from one were considered as cursed, usually because they would easily be smelt as different by any other wolf that approached them. Many normal wolves shunned any pup born of white coats, casting them out of their packs without any hesitation; to lupines, white wolves were destined to become lone wolves, outcasts and meant to roam the world searching for their next mission to complete as the legendary sight of impending death. 

Suddenly, another gasp escaped its lips as its eyes began to glow a faint golden hue. A couple of moments passed before its topaz eyes returned to normal, and the wolf looked at the cub with new eyes, eyes wide with wonder.

This one’s meant for something more here on this world . . . This one’s destined for a major purpose . . .  

This one must live . . .

The white wolf let out a sigh after looking around the surroundings of where it and the cub were. All around them was light, nearly transparent whirls of falling snow, trees that lined the bottom of the mount that they were on, and not a single sight of anything that could save the newborn. 

All seems hopeless for this one . . .

Suddenly a strangely impossible idea hit the wolf’s thoughts. It was a risky chance, but in the end, the child would live; the main consequence to it, however, the consequence would be both a blessing and a curse. 

I must do it to save this one . . . or the future will be lost without this one here . . . Many lives will depend on this one’s existence . . . and I think this is worth the risk . . .

Looking at a nearby shrub, the snow-white lupine spied a sharp vine of briars and thorns winding around the greenery. Knowing that it had to act quickly, it grabbed the cub with its mouth and approached the medium-sized shrub, halting once it arrived in front of it. With a quick swipe, its paw began to bleed red onto both the snow-and-dirt ground and the ivory fur that surrounded its front paw. The red elixir dripped off of its claws as it carefully placed the cub down and tried to coax its mouth open to swallow a drop of the blood. 

Please . . . if this one must live, this one must drink this . . .

Finally, a red drop touched the cub’s tongue and it began to swallow. A faint glow of white light surrounded the cub’s body for a matter of seconds and quickly went away, proving that the wolf’s actions had worked. 

God, forgive me for this sin I have just committed . . . but I do not regret this choice at all . . .

Once the cub let out a tiny hiccup, the white wolf could feel the once weakening pulse of the pup beating strongly against its own white coat. Again, that small grin graced its lips, calming the legend with a sense of a decision worth making. It knew that the child would never be the same ever again, especially since it could have joined its mother, who was now buried underneath a thin coating of wispy flurries that had just fallen over the past few moments. 

I just hope this one learns to accept the destiny that is waiting . . . and that now this one will roam the earth for many years . . . with many lifetimes of adventures awaiting the future . . .

For the cub’s safety, the white wolf had no choice but to take the child to a surrogate mother, one that would offer a spare teat for it to suckle and the bond of maternal love to substitute for the loss of its biological dam. Tracking a friendly human scent, the white wolf continued to carry the pup in its mouth and down the mountain to the closest town to the peak; for once, it was not on a mission to find the next victim, but the mission was to find someone to raise the orphan as its own. 

Looking at a straight stretch of white valley, the white lupine sniffed the air once again, realizing that it was going the right direction. After several minutes of a quick sprint across the flat snow, it stopped at a small, cozy house with a large pen of local huskies yapping and barking in the backyard.

This one belongs here . . . I can feel the love and warmth glowing from this place . . . this will be its home from now on . . . 

Satisfied by the location, it carefully trotted to the wire and wood pen that held the dogs that the human that lived in the house owned. There were about seven sled dogs all together – most of them were clearly Siberian or Alaskan Huskies, while a couple of the larger ones were purely Malamutes. A couple of them began to growl when the wolf approached the pen walls, but one of them, a large Malamute of brown, gray and white, stood forward and barked at the lupine.

“You reek of wild dog! You’re a wolf, aren’t you?” The Malamute growled defensively.  

The white wolf nodded, not changing its expressionless gaze at the several tame dogs that looked back at it.

“Can’t you speak?” The male spoke with a sense of confusion. 

Another husky, a smaller one with a coat of light red-brown with a bit of gray swirled in, walked up to the Malamute and rubbed against him, calming him with a kind voice. “Oh, I don’t think this one means any harm, Harold.”

Feeling a sense of trust with the small husky, the wolf let out a high whine, bringing attention to the pup in its mouth. 

“What’s this?” the she-husky asked, tilting its head to the side slightly. Realizing it was a newborn, she gasped. “Oh my! It’s a newborn pup!” She oohed and ahhed at the darling child, but the Alpha of the tame dogs, the tri-colored Malamute, seemed to differ, especially after hearing the next words from her mouth. “Maybe we could take care of it, Harold . . . why else would this wolf want to bring it to us?”

“Chira, we can’t care for this pup,” Harold told her flat out. “It has the stench of wolf on its fur; there’s no way the Master will let this one stay alive.” 

Chira leaned her nose past one of the holes of the wire fence, sniffing the cub curiously before giving the male and her fellow tame dogs the truth. “But this pup’s not wolf at all. It’s a husky pup, through and through.”

“But how . . .?” One of the other huskies spoke up. “This just seems impossible!” 

“I agree,” Another female stepped up. “but how can a wolf have a newborn husky pup in its possession?”

“Maybe it killed the mother and took the pup as bait to kill again,” the other Malamute offered his own opinion. “We shouldn’t take that pup, especially if it’s someone else’s.” 

The wolf responded to the other Malamute, finally speaking in a language that the canines could understand. “My apologies, fellow dogs. I do not wish to cause you any trouble, but I only ask for you to open your heart to this one here. This one has lost its mother after being born in the nearby mountains and needs nourishment to live. I could not save the dam, but perhaps it is possible to save her only cub.” It was hard to tell just by the lupine’s voice what gender it was, but apparently, gender didn’t matter to the huskies; they knew it was a wolf, and that was already enough information for some of them to feel a bit threatened by the white wolf’s presence and wild scent.

“I would care for this one myself,” the lupine continued, its ears were lowered slightly, proving that there was even a trace of emotion within that snow-coated fur of the lupine. “but it is considered bad luck if a white wolf cares for cubs. I . . . I wonder if one of you could raise this one as your own. That’s all I ask of you, and I’ll surely be on my way . . . No harm done, I promise.” 

Feeling touched by the white wolf’s words and unafraid of taking in the orphaned cub, Chira stood proudly forward, much to the dismay of the lead Malamute. “It would be an honor to care for this newborn for you. I shall raise it as my own, for I am unable to successfully have a child.” Her face looked glum as she turned to Harold then to the white wolf. “Please, let me take the child, dear wolf.”

She will make a good mother for this one . . . I feel her pure heart and gentle spirit; yes, she shall be this one’s adoptive mother . . .  

Harold let out a sigh after hearing the pleas of the young female. “Oh, I can’t argue with you when you act like that.” The light red-brown husky nuzzled him sweetly as a thank you.

“Then it is agreed,” the wolf replied before handing the pup to the female’s mouth. “You shall raise this one has your own, but . . . I sense some good fortune for you, Lady Chira.” The ivory beast paused, allowing Chira to approach it on her own without the presence of the other huskies and Malamutes. “You shall be barren no longer, my Lady, for I feel the presence of three sleeping inside you at this very moment. They were conceived only days prior to today, but you will notice their faint heartbeats and fluttering motions within a couple of weeks.” 

Chira let out a gasp of surprise and disbelief; she was about to ask the wolf how this was possible, but the wolf bowed its head as it began to depart.

“Now, I must be on my way. Your master is approaching and I shall be his target if I stay much longer.” The white wolf lowered its head once more before sprinting away into the snowy wind from the mountains. “Farewell, and take good care for that one. That one’s destined for great things.” 

“I will,” The motherly husky whispered softly as she barked a friendly farewell to the wolf, especially after hearing the wonderful words that the white creature had promised both her and the newborn cub that she continued to hold in her jaws.

Just as predicted, a human’s wooden sled soon approached the house with a team of six dogs pulling it. Mysteriously, the lead dog was missing, and the musher had a saddened look on his face as he began to slow down his team and hear the anxious yipping and barking of the dogs that were waiting for his arrival. 

“Whoa . . . whoa, there,” the human calmly told his team as they began to trot to the backyard pen.

After they stopped, he quickly took each husky off of their harnesses and led them into the pen with the other huskies and Malamutes. Each of the six small dogs had sad looks on their faces, which quickly got the attention of Harold and the others. 

“What happened?” The tri-colored Malamute asked. “Did something go wrong on the mountain trail this run?”

For some time, no one said a word, but after a while, one of the team dogs, a light-gray and white male spoke up with a quiet voice and his ears lowered against his neck.  

“We lost one . . . Ruby, our lead dog . . .” The emotional weight of the words were too much for him to continue and the tears began to pour down his cheeks.

“Ruby’s gone?” Chira’s ears pricked up at the news. “But how? What happened to her, Kenta? She was about to have pups again . . . and  . . . and her parents were so eager to meet her newest litter . . .” Her eyes were now filled with tears. “How awful . . .” 

Another member of the team, a dark red-burgundy female with white facial markings had the courage to answer Chira’s query. “Yes, my sister is gone. We ran into a bit of trouble on the last leg of the mountain path and crashed into a series of boulders and trees, causing her to slip through her harness. Once the rest of us came to, she was gone, and her paw-prints led to a higher part of the mountain.” Tears were now beginning to swell in her blue eyes. “I was able to track her down once I woke up and recovered, but I was shocked to see what had happened to her . . .” She sniffled and blubbered in her speech, which was hard to translate at the moment as she leaned her head against the light-gray and white male known as Kenta from her team to offer some sort of comfort.

“She was already gone when we found her,” he murmured with lowered eyelids. At the words, Ruby’s sister wailed louder. “Shh, shh . . . It’s okay, Lolita. Shh . . .” He rubbed his nose against her neck, calming her down so that he could continue the tale. “Apparently, she had already delivered her litter since there was a pool of dried blood and water and an opened sac near her body.” 

“Well, if she had had a pup, where was it?” Harold asked.

Lolita shook her head. “Kenta and I followed the pup’s scent . . . but all we could clearly smell was wolf.” Everyone’s ears pricked up, most especially the huskies that had seen the white wolf only moments ago. “We . . . we believe that a wolf took the pup as its own . . . or maybe they killed it as well.” More tears flooded her face as she laid her head against Kenta’s neck, staining it dark. 

Harold looked beside him, hoping that his mate, Chira, was still there, but she had returned to the small shelter, laying down on a bed of golden hay and caring for the pup that she had just been given by the white wolf. No, that can’t be . . . The malamute thought, pondering about the current situation. But that wolf did say that the mother delivered the pup and died on the mountain . . . Could that pup be . . . He gazed back at the cub, who was now nursing against the light-colored husky’s belly which was surprisingly lined with slightly swollen teats. I’m not sure if I should tell them that this pup could be Ruby’s surviving child . . . but it may offer some sense of closure for Lolita and Kenta.

“Lolita, Kenta,” Harold called the two huskies to his side. “I may know something that may help.” He led the sorrowful yet surprised dogs near the corner where Chira nursed the tiny child back to health, knowing that he wanted some sort of privacy for the grieving duo. 

“What is it, Harold?” Kenta asked. “What do you know?”

Although the malamute knew the answer to the light-gray husky’s query, he knew that there was a chance that his friend wouldn’t believe his tale. “Well, I know it sounds crazy, but . . .” he paused to take a breath before continuing, showing his frustration. “I . . . I think . . . Ruby’s pup is . . . alive . . .” 

Lolita gasped with shock. “How is that possible?” Tears swelled again in her blue eyes as anger sparked a sudden fire in her heart. “No, how dare you! Must you make fun of my grief by playing such an evil prank with your words?”

“Yes, Harold, how could you say such a thing?” Kenta backed up the sobbing sister beside him, helping to comfort her with gentle touches and hushing shushes. “Have you no shame for Lolita’s . . . no, my . . . our team’s loss?” 

“I . . . I . . . J-j-just let me explain . . .” Harold slightly stammered, unsure of how to back up his statement without causing the two upset huskies to attack him out of their outrage. What can I say? How can I prove my statement as possibly true? Oh . . . The malamute sighed, lowering his head in shame, hoping that there was something that could prove him truthful. What am I to do?

As if summoned by his own silent prayers, a cry came from Chira’s den; it was the cub, crying over some unknown thing. Maybe it realized that this female was not its real mother, or perhaps it was helping the beaten-down malamute get the proof that he was looking for. 

“Oh? What’s that noise?” Lolita’s ears pricked up at the sound of the wail. “It sounds like . . . like a newborn pup!” Without hesitation, she ran to where Chira was cooing, trying her best to hush the crying creature. Once she slowed to a walk and stopped at the female’s belly, she sniffed it curiously then let out a soft sneeze. “Chira, where did you get this pup from? It’s not yours, is it?”

The light red-brown shook her head softly, but she had a gentle, almost motherly smile on her face. “No, it’s not mine by blood, but it is a husky’s pup. A white wolf gave it to me, saying that its mother had birthed it on a nearby mountain and died.” She then leaned up to the child, licking its back until its crying spell went away. Kenta and Harold, as well as many of the other huskies and Malamutes, finally arrived to where Chira was mothering the tiny pup. “I agreed to raise it as my own, especially since the wolf said that it was too late to save the mother, but it was willing to find a way to save the child.” 

“I knew it smelt of wolf!” Lolita spoke up. “Oh, I can’t stand the smell of wolf . . . especially that faint stench from the mountain . . .” She paused as both she and Kenta sniffed the pup again; Lolita’s eyes grew wide as more water dripped down her face.

“What’s wrong, Lolita?” Chira asked, moving her muzzle towards the red and white husky’s. “Why are you crying now?” 

“Sorry,” the husky female sniffled, returning the nose touch with her friend. “but I think I wrongly accused Harold.” Lolita turned to the tri-colored Malamute, lowering her head in apology. “You were right, Harold. This is Ruby’s child . . .” She lifted up her head, her eyes were filled with tears of joy as a smile brightened her face. “No, this is her son.”

“Ruby’s . . . son?” Kenta repeated in slight disbelief. “Are you sure that this is hers?” 

“Trust me; I can recognize my sister’s scent on anything, even now after her tragic death,” Lolita nuzzled her nephew’s adoptive mother as she spoke, no longer saddened by the loss of her sister and teammate. “This is hers; just look at his markings and colors – if that doesn’t prove it, nothing does!”

The pup was easily a mix of his mother and father, especially with its medium-gray fur with whirls of his dam’s red fur mixed in. His markings weren’t distinct yet, but his face had white marks around his muzzle and its tightly-shut eyes. More white was lined on the pup’s belly, his paws and under its tiny nub of a tail. 

Kenta, who realized that the husky was indeed correct, now had tears drenching his white cheeks. “Oh, Ruby . . . our son is perfect. Thank you . . . thank you for this gift, my love.” He then nuzzled Chira with a gentle touch. “Chira, I am grateful to you . . . for taking care of our son. I . . . I’m so sorry that you can’t have children of your own, but I hope . . . oh, I really hope that you can treat him as if he were your own pup.”

Chira gasped slightly at the comment, but relaxed when she remembered what the white wolf had secretly told her. 

“You shall be barren no longer, my Lady, for I feel the presence of three sleeping inside you at this very moment . . .”

A sudden brightness could easily be seen on her cheeks, for she knew that she would at last be a real mother although she would soon tell Harold, her mate, within the end of the day as the others settled back down to their dens and shelters.  

“Thank you, Kenta,” The light red-brown husky returned the thanks. “Would you like to be with your son?”

The light gray shook his head. “No, he’s yours, Chira. Yours and Harold’s, until he’s old enough to learn about me and his birth mother.” 

Other canines heard the news that the pup was Ruby’s and walked over to where she lay in order to congratulate Chira and to remember the friend and teammate that they had lost by looking at the child she left behind.

From the hills near the house and the wooden dog pen, the white wolf stood by the safety of a pine tree, looking at the results of its mission. Still it looked with a sense of promise for the young life that it had saved. 

This one . . . no, I shall call you that no longer. You shall have a name that suits you . . . Togo . . . yes, I name you Togo.

You shall achieve an amazing destiny, young Togo, . . . and we shall meet again . . . I swear it . . . 

(part I – completed 11/5/07)