The war has stopped. People, stupefied by the power donated by the underground ruler, meekly laid down their arms. Kalukk dispelled the veil of spells, and Niven's warriors saw their hands, scarlet from animal blood. There were no great wolves left: some were destroyed, others could not be kept when they decided that from now on people are able to stand up for themselves. With the help of Kalukk, the pack left.

Niven won the battles, but did he win the war? The beautiful Icebang fell victim to his pride. We will not see blooming gardens here anymore; we will not listen to the wonderful singing of birds. The beautiful peninsula died with the departure of the former owners.

And the wolf, any wolf, from now on will not know friendship with a person.

Chapter 1

Sparkling, shimmering fresh snow. This is Icebang. Harsh north, hostile to the sun. It is dominated by cold and cold. Icebang is my home made of ice.

He is inhospitable and unfriendly. The wind is prickly, and the snow, like a quagmire, pulls down. Running in it is not easy, every now and then you get stuck.

The sky above is dark, and the earth is white everywhere. Icebang does not know other colors than the black and white palette. But my vision is twilight: one who was born in darkness cannot distinguish colors.

In the darkness there are no other reference points besides hearing and smell. I hear my brother's call and I hasten to him. This night we have to hunt, heady and exhausting.

Suddenly... This smell. At first only slightly perceptible, then intensifying. Rough and sharp. Giving bitterness and leaving teeth on edge in the mouth. Only one animal smells like this. He doesn't belong here, he's a stranger in Icebang.

Human.

The hair on the back of the neck stands on end.

My first desire is to hide. Hide from this terrible smell, bury your nose in fresh snow. Feel the cold taste of it instead of the human spirit. Run away from the noise that is next to people. Don't let the person get close to me. Run! Run as fast as you can. Don't let them even know I was here.

It is strange that these people moved north. But even if so, they will not linger here. Icebang is not hospitable, does not know pity ... And the nights are cold, so cold that even wolves with their fur coats are not sweet now. Where is the man!

But instead of running in the opposite direction from the strangers, I make a detour. My paws lead me to my family. My life is not as important as the life of my pack.

I run as fast as I can. I can’t afford to howl even then - they will immediately find out. We have to rearrange the paws along familiar paths. From the dense spruce forest I get out to the old clearing, where our daytime rookery used to be.

And it's like I'm in another world. The smell immediately hits my nose, even sharper and stronger than before. Ears deafen sounds. The eyes are blinded by the lights.

Some more people! Yes, how many of them?! And what are they doing here? And most importantly: why did I notice them with my nose only when they came face to face? Didn’t smell their tart smell, or the fire burning?

- Wolf! one shouts, noticing me.

- How did it go? - grumbles the second, getting up from the skins. His blade is silver in the blackness of the night, it burns like a white fire.

“Ha, it’s been a long time since I dreamed of a wolf skin!”

I growl as one of them takes a step towards me. It would be hard to run away, but it's hard to turn your back on the crossbow that is aimed at me.

But they won't run after them, will they? I am not the game that man hunts. He is afraid of me. Should be afraid.

I allow myself to turn around to start running. I take a couple of steps, when suddenly a sharp pain pierces my side. But I find the strength to rearrange my paws. More. More. Until I realize that I fell to the ground. And the snow is soft...

***

“The skin of a wolf surrendered to you, Sat,” Ilyas reproaches him. His eyes, like quince sand, bright, carefully look into the darkness.

- And why did you follow me? - Sattar replies, puffing up, stroking the handle of the canar.

“Yes, sorry for you, fool. Wolves are cunning. And I still love your neck.

On the snow, like a scarlet ribbon, lies a blood trail. An animal with such and such a wound cannot go far. They hear a long groan nearby.

- Ilyas! .. - Sat, who was walking ahead, exclaims in amazement.

At first, he sees nothing but blood, like wine spilled on the snow. Then he realizes that the black next to him is not thawed patches, but dark hair that scattered on the ground. With snow, pure white, bare pale skin completely merged. But his eyes are lying, they are lying. For it is not a jet-black she-wolf that bleeds on the ground.

***

I hear the crunch of snow under their boots. People. Vile people. How I hate you. There is no enemy more vile to the beast. I can't move myself. Cold. Brings teeth together. Shoot! Beat! Don't suffer anymore...

“Ilyas!” one of them says again.

And more ... more I hear nothing. I can not. I can't keep my eyes open.

When I woke up, I was surprised. I'm still breathing. Alive... Not nailed.

They carry me. On the hands they carry, and not drag the body through the snow. Forces would be - twisted. But it’s hard for me to open my eyes: the eyelids are heavy, heavy. And the wound in the side burns with fire. But it's still cold. In Asibeng it cannot be otherwise.

We returned to the human camp again. I understand this by the smell of burning that eats into the nose, and by the loud noise that is next to people.

- Sattar! Well, sly one! Went for a she-wolf, dragged a woman.

Noise stops. And the speaker himself, apparently, understood what he said. A man in the heart of Icebang is like water in the desert of Ivin: it seems that it can be found, but more often it is seen as a mirage in the distance.

And now I understand why this Sattar does not go, wrapped in a black hard coat, but carefully holds me in his arms.

How stupid you got...

And darkness overtakes me again.

Then delirium ... Heavy eyelids. I see only shadows scurrying everywhere. Side burns pain. It is so strong that I arch my back. But they hold me tight, so I can't break free. I think only about one thing: if only the flock was not looking for me. If only he wasn't looking for me.

As soon as I open my eyes, I see a face. He is not old and not a small puppy - I am not strong enough to determine human age. His eyes are as black as the vault of heaven, and they look attentively, wary. I'm cold from his eyes. I want to hide.

And it still smells bittersweet. Differently.

The man puts his hand up to my face, but I twitch and he pulls it away.

My name is Larre Tarrum.

And waiting. But I am silent. What else, to show that I know this tough human language. And his pronunciation is different, not the same as that of people from the Live Strip.

Another thing is why he thinks that I can understand him.

He smiles. But from this smile it's bad.

- Do you have a name?

I don't listen to him anymore. Or rather, I'm trying. I look around myself. We are in a tent. I saw such people only from the outside: when the merchants came to the Live Strip. Then I hid in the shade of larch trees and watched how a few people who live on the border with Kobrin bought goods that we could not find.

People in Icebang, except on the Live Strip, can not be found. It's warmer on the border, but still colder than any country in Elloy. And to the north it is even colder.

"You will only leave if I let you go," Tarrum says, noticing my wistful gaze fixed on the exit behind him. His voice immediately changes. The seemingly soft baritone is overgrown with frost. “Eat,” he puts a bowl of some porridge in front of me and repeats, “Eat.” Not poisoned. Or do you prefer a piece of fresh meat? You know, you don’t have Lies here: there’s not much game, only wolves come across.

He gives me a quick and last look, and then he leaves. I am alone in the tent.

Maybe someone else would have disdained a handout from a person, but not me. Icebang two words are synonyms, and one of them is hunger. In addition, you still need to think about how to get out of here, and it’s more pleasant to do it not on an empty stomach.

I have eaten human food before. When you live in the far north, even centuries of enmity will seem unsteady. So the flock has to, gritting their teeth, make contact with people.

Usually they sent me to the Live Strip. Not every wolf is given to acquire human flesh. That's just a gift or a curse no one knows.

It is unpleasant for me to change the wolf skin. If I lived further south, I certainly wouldn't. But Icebang is tough. And this mercilessness sometimes pushes him to such actions that he is sick of himself ...

When an old and feeble wolf dies, the whole pack breathes a sigh of relief. The extra piece will fall off the profit [1 - puppies under one year old], more likely they will survive their first winter.