Equivilant Exchange

High in the woods that morning there was a stillness, as if life itself had been suspended. Neither bird nor animal spoke, and the only sound was the sporadic soft thud of snow from overladen boughs. Up into this waiting vacuum, though maple and birch, rose the distant bugling of deer. Astride a black Frisian named Lucian, Adrienne Blackburn slowly made her way up the winding trail that led to the ridge, letting the horse choose the pace. Bundled in a hooded parka, snow pants and calf-high boots, the fifteen-year-old wore her long black hair in a single braid.

Lucian was walking with his head down, pushing his nose through the snow like a shovel. He tossed a load of snow into the air with a sneeze, breaking into a little trot.

“Easy, Lucian,’ said Adrienne, reining him in, getting control.

Lucian settled back into a walk. Along the trail, every twenty yards, bright orange posters were pinned to trees, threatening prosecution for anyone caught hunting. At the crest of the ridge that separated the two valleys was a small circular clearing where normally, if she approached quietly, she might see deer or wild Turkey. Today however, when she rode out of the trees and into the pre-dawn light, all she saw was fresh wolf tracks and blood spatter. She looked around her surroundings.

Prodding Lucian forward, Adrienne followed the tracks to another ridge, free of orange posters. Stopping at a large crooked pine, she dismounted and tied Lucian’s reins to a low-hanging branch. She reached for her quiver of blue-feathered arrows and slung it over her shoulder. Grabbing her compound bow, she patted Lucian’s neck.

“I’ll be back soon,” she said. “Don’t run away, okay.”

Lucian shook his head and snorted, blasting her in the face with hot, wet air. He pawed the ground.

Adrienne shook her head and snorted back. She chuckled and kissed him on the forehead. Turning, she began her trek into the sheltering woods. These woods were denser, permitting little light to enter. Drawing an arrow, she fitted it into her bow as she moved through the shallow snow. Following the wolf tracks, she moved through the trees as quietly as she could. She heard the bugling of deer again. Where there are deer, there are predators. Wolf pelts were in high demand, and Adrienne was the only skilled hunter in the area.

The gray wolf ran. To ordinary eyes he was almost invisible against the snow line, and he seemed to float. His ears were up, and his senses were so alert that his muscles quivered as he ran. He swung around instantly, and the snarl that came from his jaws had a killing threat in it. Adrienne stood her ground, aiming her arrow at the snarling wolf. Common to these parts, the gray wolf’s strength and size were unusual. Its fur was a beautiful glittering gray, its tail was tinged with red. It had a strong, handsome face, with brilliant white fangs and gums as pink and healthy as the flesh of a new plum. The wolf lowered his head and snarled, primed to pounce.

Drawing back her arrow, Adrienne waited for the wolf to make its move. “Come and get me,” she dared.

Springing forward with powerful hind legs, the wolf opened his massive jaws. At the last possible moment, Adrienne let loose her arrow and the wolf jerked his head to the side, just missing the arrow’s deadly blow. In maneuvering around the wolf, Adrienne’s forearm caught in the beast’s jaws. Pushing it back, its teeth tore out a chunk of her coat and flesh. With her other hand, she drew a knife from her boot and raised it to eye level. The weapon was all that stood between her and the wolf. Once again lunging forward, the gray wolf, having tasted her blood, prepared for another attack.

As the beast drew near, Adrienne took a horizontal swipe, slitting the wolf’s throat. A geyser of blood sprayed her in the face, as the dying beast fell to the ground. She dropped to one knee and plunged the knife into the wolf’s heart, killing it instantly. Wiping the blood from her face with the sleeve of her coat, she fell back in a sitting position and released a breath of relief. She looked at the dead wolf.

“Thank you for your sacrifice,” she said, wiping her blade clean in the snow. She sheathed her weapon. “You’re bigger than most.” After a brief rest, she got to her feet and was about to retrieve her arrow, jutting out of a nearby tree, when she hear cracking ice. In her persuit, she failed to notice the ground beneath her feet. Gyser pond--the ice had been covered by a layer of fresh snow.

Leaving her arrow in the tree, she carefully stepped forward, the cracking sound grew louder with each foot fall. Adrienne grabbed the wolf's tail and pulled it toward her--wolf was in high demand, and she would rather die than return empty-handed. Failure was not an option. Fissures began to spread around her quilckly, prompting her to run. Feeling the ice give way, she was inches from solid ground, when she plundged through the ice, vanishishing into the inky waters.

Surfacing quickly, she gasped sharply as the cold shocked her body. Thrashing, she called for help, but no one came. Going under again, her lungs burned for a solid breath. She burst out of the water again, gasping, failing to call out as she went under again. Exhausted, she sank to the bottom and settled next to the massive beast she had just killed.

"A life for a life?" she thought as she lost conciousness.