Spring Thaw and the Wolf Pack
Winter was the harshest season, yet also the quietest. Unless it was a dire emergency, there was no reason to brave the bone-chilling cold and wander about. Especially in this forest, where blizzards—no, snowstorms—raged; traversing it in winter was tantamount to suicide.
Standing before the snow-covered palisade, the Wendigo recalled one of the few memories from that winter. Or could you even call this a memory? "...Finding a frozen bear carcass isn't exactly a fond recollection. More like ghost story fodder."
To think a forest existed where bears failed hibernation and froze to death. At this point, the forest folk's survival was nothing short of miraculous. How the hell did they manage to live here?
"Wow, but now that spring has arrived, it feels warm and nice!"
"The snow hasn't even started melting yet—is this really spring?"
"Pardon? The snowstorm has stopped, so isn't it spring?"
As Geron stared at him like he'd asked something utterly obvious, the Wendigo began to understand how these people had survived the forest. Anyone who would die from something this minor had long since become one with the ancestors.
"Everyone, clear the snow quick! Mess it up, and you'll lose toes!"
"The snow here's frozen solid. Someone grab a hammer!"
With spring's arrival, the people sprang into orderly action, shoveling away the snow. They smashed frozen ice with hammers and chisels, scooped it up with shovels and dumped it aside, and where needed, carefully poured hot water... The Wendigo clicked his tongue watching the hot water they'd just poured freeze solid upon contact with the snow.
"Boiling water freezing in seconds... This cold is anything but normal."
"Still, the forest folk are clearing it at an impressive pace. I was worried how we'd handle all this snow."
Skadi, wrapped in a soft fur cloak, gazed at the workers with wonder from beside the Wendigo. She too had grown up in a cold land, but compared to the forest folk, she was weak to the chill. The forest people were... unnaturally hardy, to a frightening degree.
"Hahaha! Thanks to Lady Skadi's totem, the snow's all soft!"
"Wooo! Let's clear it all before sunset!"
"Great energy! Onward!"
The totem easing the cold to this extent... This forest was truly terrifying. As the burly warriors forgot the chill and shoveled snow, the ground around the palisade was revealed in moments.
The Wendigo scraped the frozen earth with his claw. Rich black soil clung to it vividly.
"The black soil's already spread this far."
"Mm... And it'll probably keep expanding. Honestly, it's spreading faster and wider than I expected."
Indeed, three hundred years of "fertilizer"—no, heart-level performance. Not even years had passed, yet the land around the village was turning fertile black soil. The Wendigo gazed at it fondly, then lifted his head at a presence stirring in the forest.
A snow-blanketed forest was perfect camouflage for beasts, but it couldn't fool the Wendigo's senses. Someone was circling the woods. Not an attack, though. Recognizing the familiar presence, he called for Geron.
Time to greet their guests.
"Looks like Ivan and the others from his village are here. Geron, tell the people to prepare a feast."
"Understood. I'll have them ready warm clothes and food."
The Wendigo nodded. After trekking through snow-choked paths, they'd be starving and craving warmth. A hot meal and furs would stir goodwill even where none existed.
These small kindnesses build ironclad loyalty.
Since he was extending hospitality anyway, the Wendigo decided to greet them personally. It wasn't far.
"Skadi. I'll go welcome them—you prepare the feast with Geron."
"Yes! I'll make sure it's perfect, so everyone feels Your mercy and benevolence!"
"No need for anything that grand. Just prepare something appropriate."
Skadi's eyes, burning with fervor, drooped. Pitiful, but necessary. If she threw herself into something wholeheartedly, reining her in was impossible—this preemptive check was best.
The Wendigo barely stifled her eager response and headed into the forest.
Deeper in the woods, the Wendigo's senses sharpened beyond the norm. The forest itself suited him far more than any village.
Thanks to that, he noticed something off.
This presence... not human.
He sniffed the air flowing through the trees. From Ivan's direction came the scent of beasts. Not livestock—something wilder, unlike pigs or chickens.
Wild animals trailing them, then... Over three hundred people moving as a group—not monsters, but predators eyeing them?
Coincidence, perhaps, but the Wendigo didn't believe in such things. He'd seen too many "coincidences" turn into disasters in this world.
Preparing for battle, he forged an ice axe.
They're speeding up!
Sure enough, the beasts were acting strangely, charging after Ivan's group at ferocious speed.
The Wendigo raced through the forest, gathering mysticism. When I spot them, I'll crush them in one go.
He closed the distance so swiftly it felt like the earth folded beneath him.
He bellowed toward the distant Ivan.
"Ivan!!!"
"Spirit!"
Ivan, plowing through snow, lit up at the voice. He'd worried the Wendigo might have left the forest over winter, but here he was, coming to greet them. If his voice carried, he must be close!
"The Spirit's nearby! Find him!"
"Ivan... th-there, I see the Spirit..."
"If you see him, then—!?"
As a warrior pointed shakily, Ivan turned with a broad grin—then froze in horror.
The Wendigo was charging, radiating menace, a massive ice axe slung over his shoulder.
Fear surged instinctively. Ivan's mind raced. Did I do something wrong!?
Nothing came to mind. The closest was moving ahead without orders... but that hardly warranted death. He'd gathered valuables from each village and brought everyone safely—praise seemed more likely.
Did I come too late? Does he think I broke my oath and fled?
No matter how rational and benevolent, the Wendigo was still a spirit, at least as far as Ivan knew. Even the wise could err. Humans crossing the forest in winter could freeze—had the Wendigo overlooked that?
Possible. Spirits weren't infallible. Best to explain calmly and clear the misunderstanding.
But... He's rational, benevolent, kind—he'll surely listen... right?
Otherwise, disaster. Ivan imagined that axe cleaving his neck.
"Ivan!!!"
The Wendigo's roar boomed louder. Ivan swallowed dryly, tensing. The moment their eyes met, he'd explain fast!?
The Wendigo burst from the trees, shouting at the top of his lungs. The enraged beasts were nearly upon them—no time for explanations.
But his mysticism-amplified voice was the issue. The chilling roar slammed into their ears like a thunderclap. Ivan's heart shriveled.
Meeting the Wendigo's ferocious gaze sparked an urge to faint on the spot.
Forgetting his plan, he surrendered to instinct.
"Forgive me!!!"
Explanations be damned—he dropped to his knees. The others followed suit, screaming and collapsing without a word. Faced with the wrath of a superior being, their wills crumbled, knees buckling involuntarily.
"Good!"
The Wendigo praised their quick reaction. Desperate measure, but sincerity always worked. They'd sensed something amiss and bowed without hesitation!
Whatever 'forgive me' means!
With the path clear, he roared and swung his axe wide. Mysticism surged through it, whipping up a blizzard around the blade.
"Grrrrr!!!"
Wolves arrived with bared fangs, foaming rabidly. The Wendigo's axe arced like a crescent moon, unleashing a massive slashing blizzard.
It cleaved over ten wolves in one stroke.
The pursuing pack faltered.
The Wendigo leaped into their midst, ordering Ivan.
"Ivan! Snap out of it and arm yourselves! Ambush!"
"Forgive me! Forgi—ambush?"
Ivan, begging in a daze, turned to the wolves and gaped. A real ambush!
Staring blankly, he inwardly cheered. The Wendigo wasn't after him!
He's not here to kill me!
"Ivan!"
"Yes! Everyone, weapons up! Beasts incoming!"
At the Wendigo's call, Ivan finally took command. The warriors, quick on the uptake, realized they weren't the target. They sighed in relief and met the ambush.
"Just wolves—shields up!"
"Torches! Make torches! Scare 'em with fire!"
As warriors grappled the clinging wolves, the Wendigo relaxed and raised his weapon. Each swing sent wolves flying in chunks; a single roar flash-froze half a dozen into silent ice shards. A kick or punch turned them to bloody pulp.
Watching, Ivan vowed: Never piss off the Spirit!
He was far too wise for that.
For a moment, the Wendigo massacred amid sprays of blood.
"Yelp! Kyaaang!"
The slobbering, rabid wolves tucked tail and fled.
The Wendigo eyed them briefly, then approached the people.
Ivan smiled awkwardly at his heavy footfalls. The thick killing intent made natural smiles impossible.
He bowed as courteously as possible.
"Sp-Spirit. An honor to see you again."
"Ivan, well done bringing them. Crossing a snow-blanketed forest is no small feat... Impressive."
"!"
Ivan's chest swelled at the genuine praise. As expected, the Spirit was magnifi—
"But there's a rat hiding."
The Wendigo crooked a finger. Roots erupted from the earth, wrapping a man. As he thrashed and cursed, the Wendigo approached slowly...
Crack!
A knuckle-rap. Given the Wendigo's size, it was no different from a punch. The man bled and passed out.
Ivan involuntarily averted his eyes. Benevolent and magnificent, yes... but terrifying all the same.