I stare down at the dead human. His eyes are no longer wide with fear, but empty and glazed. The stricken expression is still stuck on his face, empty of thought, but the fear is still there. Deep down, it almost makes me glad.
        My breaths are heavy as I trot back to Tundra. She is still alive, but barely. I whisper her name, and she doesn't even raise her head. She only opens her eyes. They're dull and weak, clouded with misery. And as I see her strain to speak, I know what she wants to know.

"The human is dead." I whisper, licking some of the blood from my snout.

          A faint smile crosses her face, the dying wolf too weak to complete her own facial expression. She closes her eyes, her face growing flat as the life drains from her body. At least she died knowing that her killer was punished.
Poor, sweet Tundra. She, of all wolves, didn't deserve such a fate. She was young, with a promising future. And although she was smaller and weaker than other wolves her age, her kindness was always notable. Her bright, blue eyes are now dull and lifeless, her mousy brown fur matted with blood.
    I look away from her with sorrow, closing my eyes to take a break from the bloody scene. It's painful to watch a packmate die in such a way. But alas, I have to open them again. I could hide from the truth, but it is inevitable. Tundra Eye is dead, and disbelief will change nothing.
      My eyes open, the torture of the bloody scene bombarding my vision immediately. We are not too far from the river, luckily. It is tradition to drop the dead there, as burial is impossible in the frozen ground. Deep down, I morbidly wonder how many wolf skeletons have accumulated at the lake at the bottom of the river. We do not drink there out of respect, and for fear of disease.
       I am not strong enough to toss her into the water without wetting my paws, so I inch backwards into the freezing river, dragging Tundra behind me. When the current finally picks her corpse up, she floats for a few seconds before sinking underneath the frigid waves. The last I see of Tundra Eyes is her tail dipping beneath the cold, glassy river.
        I stand stiffly, watching over the dark waters as they rush past. I take this moment to remember the day, so long ago, when the Beta Cedar strode into the camp with a skinny pup in his jaws. A poor, abandoned pup he found in the snowfields that border the forest. An odd little thing, insisting that her name was Tundra Eyes. I was only a young pup then myself, still believing the world was a friendly place. The fact that wolf parents could abandon their child like that confused me.
        I close my eyes again, a break from reality. The cold river is still washing over my paws, and I take the moment to drink from the freezing flow. I know I must alert the pack of this.
        On my slow walk back, I have the time to consider what happened. If Tundra Eyes hadn't seemed so at peace when I told her that I killed the human, I'd be breaking down with regret of killing something with such an intelligent fear in its eyes. But I know that what I did was right. The human was smart enough to know that it didn't need the food that it stole from us. Tundra was so innocent, and her puphood had never truly disappeared from her eyes. She, of all wolves, didn't deserve that pain.
       I enter the clearing, and immediately many pairs of eyes turn to me. I forgot about the blood that's drying on my muzzle and spilling down my chest. I press my ears back against my skull, delivering the news quickly.

"Tundra Eyes is dead." I say, loud enough for the wolves around me to hear.

        I quickly dip my head down, heart beating quickly after delivering the news.

"What?!" Alpha Granite asks in disbelief, pushing his way out of the group of wolves and standing before me.

"She was shot by a human. Then he turned the gun to me. So I... I killed him." I explain, tripping over my words as I choke back tears.

      Granite is obviously full of sorrow, but he does not speak. He is not one to portray his emotions through words. He pretends nothing is wrong, but he's bad at hiding it. His face will always twist into a depressed expression as he holds back tears.

"Where is the human's corpse?" He asks, his voice hampered by sadness.

"What? Why?" I question.

        I'm unaware why he would want to know where the corpse is. I mean, it's just a measly human body.

"Food may soon grow scarce due to the humans' overhunting. We need everything we can get." Granite tells me.

       I nod. That's unsettling.

"It's near the Northern Border of the territory. There are plenty of tracks in the snow." I tell with a nod, dipping my head.

       Braze steps forward out of the group.

"I can go and get the corpse." He offers solemnly.

      Granite nods in approval, and Braze leaps off into the forest. His coppery tail disappears into the shrubbery, and I look away.
     I quickly realize that I've spent most of the day already. And by now, the dogs might have finally made their decision. If even one of them doesn't cooperate, everything could go very, very wrong.
      I just hope that they understand how much they need their freedom.

"I'll go check up on the humans." I mutter, starting to turn around.

        Granite raises a brow, turning his weathered face to me. I can see the suspicion in his yellow eyes, but I know he trusts me.

"You seem to check up on them a lot." He remarks, but does not stop me.

     I chuckle awkwardly before bolting off into the forest. Barreling through the snow, past tall pines that reach forebodingly towards the grey sky. I can make it to the human camp just after sunset if I run fast enough.
      That is precisely what happens. The sun has only recently dipped below the horizon, and the humans are tossing snow onto their fires. I do as I usually do, wait in the brush until they enter their tents for the night.
       I stride into the clearing, tail swaying slowly in a greeting. I wish I could be more cheerful, but the events of earlier are still playing back to me whenever I blink.
Dodge, however, is grinning widely.

"Cadmium! Have you heard? One of the humans was killed! By a wolf!" He calls cheerfully.

I can't help but wince as I hear him speak so cheerfully of the event.

"Yes... I'm aware. I was the one who did it."

"It was you?" He asks in disbelief.

"He had a gun pointed at my face. I didn't have any kind of a choice." I grumble with a dipped head.

"No! We're thanking you. That's one less human when we make our escape." Dodge protests.

        My head shoots up, ears perked.

"You're escaping?" I question, cheer cutting through the darkness in my mind.

"We decided in the morning. Convincing some of these dogs wasn't the easiest thing I've ever done." Dodge explains.

         I lift my previously low head in interest.

"That's great! When do you plan to make your escape?" I question.

"Tomorrow. We'll wait until we get into the forest, and then take off. We'll crash the sled as you suggested, and while the human is getting up, we'll head for the hills." The husky explains proudly.

"I'll follow you all. I could give you a signal when it's the best time to flee, if you want." I offer.

"That'd be helpful." One of the dogs pipes up.

"I'll howl when we're in a good position. Then I can lead you all to the camp." I say with a nod.

"Thank you so much for all of this, Cadmium." Dodge says graciously.

"Er, by the way, once we get there, you can't let Alpha Granite know that I helped you. He never... precisely mentioned I was allowed to free you. We'll just say that I found you in the forest, and that your sled crashed by accident." I tell them guiltily. I hate to lie to Granite.

       I spend the rest of the night chatting with the dog team. I get to know all of them them pretty well. There are eight dogs in the group, mainly different breeds of huskies. There's only one malamute, the one who is now somewhat maimed from the fight. He is rather timid. There's a Canadian Eskimo dog, and a wiry chinook.
   The chinook, named Hawk, is a thin, large, light brown dog that is somewhat against the escape, but he decided to come anyway. Most likely out of respect for Dodge. He's very talkative.
      I lay my head on my paws, still holding up a conversation, but allowing by body some rest. Dodge asks me loads of questions about the Packs, wanting to know everything he can about wolves. For a good few hours, I allow myself to just relax with my new friends. Though anxiety is still at the back of my mind for tomorrow, I have faith in the dogs. They want their freedom.
        I leave them before the night ends, so I can get some rest in a real den. They seem hesitant to say goodbye, but I promise them that tomorrow, everything will change. But I don't mention that change might be for the worst if anything goes wrong.