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A pickaxe lodges in a mound of snow on a cliff that rests on the outside of a snowy mountain. A lone explorer sporting a grey coat and snow pants pulls himself up. Even though a thick storm of snow blows in his face he pulls his scarf down. A gun rests on his back, along with a small backpack of supplies. He tries to give himself a non-threatening appearance as he stalks through the sloping hills of snow, ice, and rock.

Every few feet he pokes a staff down into the snow to make sure it's safe to walk on. Some snow falls in piles thirty or forty feet after he pokes it. I watch cautiously from on top of a rocky cliff above him. I know I have to get back to the rest of my pack but, I need confirmation if he is a threat or not.

The man is slowly making his way towards my pack's position. Whether or not he knows where my pack's den is I don't know. I am about to turn away when the man looks around as if he's confused. I scrutinize the situation and conclude that he's forgotten something. The man begins to walk back to where he originally climbed up.

I suddenly realized that I'd forgotten something the whole time I'd been watching the human. My mate was towards the bottom of the mountain where the hunter was recently. I almost think about going to see if he's okay or howling for him. But, both could get me or all my pack killed. I just have to hope that he gets back okay.

The man grabs a rope and begins to pull it up. Whatever's on the other end is slightly heavy. The man is putting everything he has into pulling the object up. I stare at the rope waiting to see what will come up. The man's back block me from seeing what he's hauling up until he turns away.

My mate lays barely alive in the snow. Blood had already turned the snow red. My mate barely even breathed until the hunter came up closer. The hunter's back blocked me once again from seeing my mate. I could barely see one of my mate's hind legs. It was about the only clean thing on his body. The rest of him is smeared and caked with blood. My mate's hind leg kicked and moved to try and claw the man.

My mate's brutal whine pierces the air and his hind leg goes limp. He's dead. I want to tear the man's throat out. The man walked away again towards where he had climbed up and began to hoist yet another rope up. I could hear the man calling to someone over the cliff.

My mate's beautiful body had a huge hole in his belly and his entrails were hanging out. I turned away. I wanted to gaze upon my mate as much as I could, but he was so mutilated I couldn't. The man was helping up a younger human, a boy. The boy wore a red coat and snow pants, along his back he had a gun, roughly smaller than the man's. I guessed this pair was father and son.

They began to walk together towards where my den was. I have young puppies in my den, puppies that defend on me for food and warmth. My den is very hard to see. Even I get lost trying to find it in storms, when my nose is too frozen to sniff out my pup's scent.

I run down to my mate. As I walk closer to him I close my eyes and get used to the strong smell of blood and wolf insides. When I open them I can see that he is barely alive. The whole world seems to stop as I lay my head on my mate's bloody husk. His chest is heavily rising and falling.

Emotion clouded my mind, pushing out even the ideas of the hunter and his son. It was all too much. How could a human take this from me? My mate and I never even got to name our puppies. I was planning on talking with him about it tonight after he got back from hunting. Now, I won't ever know what he would have wanted.

We hadn't even been mates for a year yet. We had just had puppies a month ago. A faint voice whispered through the storm. It was my mate. I leaned my head over to hear him, but he said nothing, instead he began to breath heavily. I could see in the corner of my eye his chest rising and falling rapidly. Then all of a sudden it stopped. My mate was truly dead.

I put my head on his chest and sobbed. Why is this happening? I asked myself. I promised myself I would bury my mate,but a howl poured out of me. It echoed all around the mountain.

With my teeth bared I easily picked up the hunter's scent. I follow the hunter and his son's trail up the mountain. I race around every corner, I don't even care if the hunter's around it. I'll kill him. As I run, I come up with a new scheme.

I'll kill his son first. I'll make a show of it. Let him watch his son scream and choke on his own blood, watch his son's blood soak, the snow, and finally watch his son die. Then after he's had time to mourn I'll rip his throat out.

I dash around a huge rock and find both the men with their backs to me. But, they both know I'm here. They both swerve around. The man has his gun in his hand. The boy is fumbling for his. The man fires and a piece of metal hits my front right leg. The blood stained bullet lands a few feet away from me on the ground. I pull myself around the corner. I have just about five seconds to think before I am dead.

I decide against the revenge scheme of killing the son first. I need to take out the man. I run around towards the couple, but just as I am about to leap and close my teeth around the man's leg, my wounded leg freezes up. I fall on my face into the snow.

I instantly roll around away from my original position. Whenever I put weight on my damaged leg it feels like it is going to fall off. The man points his gun at me, but just as he is about to fire the boy smacks his father's gun away. The gun hovers in midair and then falls off a cliff.

The man yells at the boy and tries to take his gun, but the boy throws his gun into the snow. I am confused at why the two hunters are fighting at all. I grab the man's leg and bite deep until I feel the man's foot snap off. He screams in agony as he looks down at the bloody stump that was once his leg. The boy begins to back away from me.

I push myself on my hind legs towards the boy. My grey fur is covered with blood, sweat, and melted snow. Even though it is heavily snowing I can clearly see my target

The boy looks around for his gun but, I see it first. It is only a foot away from me. I start to push myself towards it when another jolt of pain from my hind leg rocks my body. A pile of snow soaks up blood where my wound used to be. But, it stings like knives.

The boy reaches for the gun and picks it up. He points it at me. I can hear his father yelling at him frantically to take the shot with his dying breath.

The boy's arms begin to shake. I sneak a glance back at the man and I see that he is dead. A huge pool of blood still remains from his leg.

I remain completely motionless. I wait for the bullet to come. I close my eyes ready for the pain. Instead I hear the gun clatter against a rock. I look up to see that it is broken in two and the boy is approaching me with a savage smile on his face. In one of his hands is a knife and in the other is a small bit of rope that he pulled from his pack.

He gets right up in my face. I jump at him but, he makes a big, deep scrape along my muzzle with the knife. He holds up the blood soaked knife and laughs. I decide not to attack him, yet. He could kill me or torture me for just trying to bite him.

The boy takes the rope and ties it around my mouth as a muzzle. When he is completing the knot he pulls it so tight I begin to bleed.

The snow on my front leg is acting as a healing aid to my wound. But, i can still feel the sting of the knife on my snout. The boy stands up and backs away from me. I still lay there, waiting for him to do something. I can see that his feet are covered by strong hiking boots. The boy's smile turns into a frown as he brings his boot up into my face.

The first kick hurt the worst. I felt my frozen nose crack like thin ice on a pond and blood splattered everywhere. He brought his foot back up into my face again and again, until my gray muzzle was smeared in my own blood.

My nose was split open, the coppery taste of blood flooded my mouth, and one of my eyes was swollen shut.

When the boy stopped kicking me, he instantly fell on his knees and cried. He stayed like that for some time. He completely ignored me, but I couldn't do anything. After the boy was done sobbing he came towards me and untied the ropes on my mouth. I almost snapped his arm off, yet I didn't.

With a bitter face he helped me get up. He still had his knife in hand. He yelled at me and pointed back towards where my mate lay. I knew he wanted me to leave.

I was so surprised by the oddness of the boy. He had just been beating my face in and then he decided it was time for me to go. It didn't seem right. I think the boy is planning something.

I limp as fast as I can towards my den. The blizzard has died down so, that I can easily see in front of me. I can't smell anything, except for blood. Every time I step on my bad leg I want to cry out in pain. But, no wolf with any dignity would do that. I was taught at a young age to keep all pain to myself.

When I make it back to my den the sky is clear and I can see the sun. I can also see a small pillar of smoke rising from below the mountain. It must be where the man and his son stayed the night.

My four bundles of reckless energy, also known as my pups are all waiting at the entrance of my den. All four of them are very surprised to see their mother come home covered in blood. Still despite the blood the first thing they wanted was milk.

I greeted all four of the pups and then went to the back of the den to lick my wounds clean. Of course all the puppies thought I was going to feed them and they rushed over. As I check myself over for other unknown wounds I find that my underbelly was untouched by even blood. I began to lick my face of all the excess blood that splattered from when the boy kicked me.

I had fed the puppies only two hours ago, before I had decided to go court with my mate, but they acted like it was their last meal. I have one female puppy and three male puppies. Already the puppies had established dominance over each other. My biggest male was their leader and the female was the Omega of their pack within a pack.

As I let them feed and cleaned up my leg I thought of how I would tell them of what had just happened. Seeing my mate dead was shocking and what disturbed me most is all of my physical and emotional pain was given to me in less than an hour.

Soon, enough my puppies were done feeding and my leg was already feeling better. My puppies messed around with each other, I felt so strange since I had just returned from a horrible experience into a normal life with my puppies. They had no idea what had happened.

My female was in the process of asking me what happened when my biggest “alpha" male stopped her and then asked the same question. I stuttered and said that I got into a rough fight with an elk and didn't manage to bring it back. I told the pups that their father would be returning soon, even though I knew his corpse was covered by snow by now. All the puppies believed me.

They chased each other around the small cave that was our den while I tried to stand and see if my leg was healing. As soon as I took my first step, pain shot up through my leg and down my spine, and I fell down. After a few minutes of excruciating pain and awkward glances from the pups I was finally able to stand. I still limped a little, but not as much as I did when I came back here after the boy asked me to.

Thinking back about any of the events that happened to me was to hurtful to accomplish. Instead, I thought only of the future, of what I would do with my pups, and what would become of the strange boy and his family.

Before I went to sleep I lovingly licked all my puppies fur and wrapped myself around them. They could not be harmed by anyone, or that “anyone" would be dead. All the puppies snuggle against me, they are nothing, but warm and soft balls of fur. They fall asleep against my chest not knowing that their father will never be coming back.

Tomorrow morning I will tell them all of what happened on this mountain, and my encounters with the humans.