Unity

The deathly wails of a life being taken by force clashed with that of ripping flesh and snarling reprimands. Unwilling to open his eyes, Silvan just listened.
These were supposed to be his anguished cries. His life joining the great unknown.
But that wasn't the case. He exhaled and opened his eyes.

The weather had cleared up, granting a good view of the gruesome scene before him. Blood soaked the snow around the caribou carcass, the pack leader still watching him with its jaw clamped down on the poor things throat.
Did this mean he was spared, or was he just next in line?

He decided to test the waters and pushed his luck, getting up as best he could with his feet numb from the cold. The wolf began growling at him, and their feast halted the second he stood fully. Now the center of attention once again.

He didn't know much about wolves, but he could tell that the wrong move here would be his last. So he stood there, unmoving, hands raised as if they were the ones pointing a rifle at him. He stood there for what felt like minutes when suddenly all heads but the alphas turned. A brief moment of confusion rang through the pack, quickly turning into action. Most scurried towards the mountain, ripping out large chunks of the carcass before disappearing, while the rest began dragging it in the same direction.

This continued until only him and the alpha were left. Silvan lowered his hands and picked up the rifle again, making sure not to break eye contact. A low growl could be heard the moment he had the weapon at the ready, one that subsided as he strapped it back over his shoulder and waited. It felt like a ritual, with the predator now readily approaching him.
It circled close, sniffing him all the while. Brushing against his legs, he could feel its power through the rough fur.

He felt no animosity from the animal and was tempted to try petting it, only to be reminded how stupid that would have been as it jumped back and began barking profusely. It had smelled something underneath his mantle. He checked his pockets for food when he hit his hand against something hard.
He pulled out the empty bottle and offered it up, taking a few steps back to give the wolf space to investigate.

The wolf walked up, sniffing the object, its eyes still glued on Silvan. Probably its first time smelling something like this, he thought.

"URHO!"

Silvan spun around at the voice. He was ready to shout back before remembering he wasn't alone. He slowly turned, hoping that the rapid movement hadn't startled the animal, but to his surprise both it and the bottle had dissapeared.

Relieved his heart sank, and so did he. Thinking himself safe, his body shut off the survival mode switch, releasing a day's worth of stress and fatigue at once. He had long since lost all feeling in his feet, and his legs refused any further movement. His lungs and throat were burning from inhaling the frigid air too quickly, and looking at all the blood made him sick. A disgusting taste welled up deep inside.
But all this pain made him euphoric aswell. They were clear signs that he was alive. Immobilized there was only one thing left to do. Mustering every ounce of strength left he called out.
And was heard.

Silvan awoke in an unfamilar place. It was warm, and although his feet were still cold, he could feel them again, doing a short roll call to make sure all toes were still present.
A weird smell lingered in the room. It reminded him of scented candles, if someone combined incense with manure for some sick reason.
He shot up when the smell penetrated deep into his nostrils.

"Good, you are awake."

He was in a tent, and across from him sat a well-fed lady. Her hair was grey and beautifully braided. She adorned with many trinkets and jewlery. From Hairpins to Ivory necklaces they did little to distract from her wrinkled face. They were dense enough that counting them might approach her true age.

"You're the one Urho always speaks of," interrupting his intense gawking.
"The stranger without any friends." A cheeky smile shot across her face.

"Uh, yes ma'am. Though I consider Urho a friend and like to believe the same is true for him."

She let out a loud laughter, revealing a toothless mouth. It went on long enough that Silvan was about to awkwardly join in, just for it to stop abruptly.

"Then, where is your friend?"
Her tone was serious.

"Uhm, there was an accident."

"AN ACCIDENT!?" the old woman shrieked, making Silvan jump a little.
"Hopefully this was not involved in the accident?"

She placed her hand on Urho's rifle resting next to her, tapping it a few times to make sure Silvan noticed.
"What did you do to my grandson?"

Silvan felt guilty at those words, even if he wasn't, and told her what had occurred. The voices, the blizzard, Sila, the unnatural state Jasper was left in, and that Urho sent him here, staying behind himself.

The old lady nodded, lost in thought. As he began retelling the wolf encounter, she took a ladle out of the soup she was boiling and whacked Silvan over the head with it.

"Next time you come here, start with what happened to Urho!"