The red wolf had already seen his share of the disaster hitting the Tribe, but he had escaped major injury so far (though the same could not be said for a few of the others). He was terrified of the vicious storm, but being cooped up and waiting for it to pass stressed him out just as much, leaving him nervous and twitchy and an all-around wreck. He waited for lulls in the violence to sneak out into the village, keeping close to the strong points of shelter in case the rain and wind picked up again. Udanvti was not far from him at any point during this, and she seemed more than ever like a prey animal despite being a wise spirit, flighty and nervous. Whenever her tail flagged, though, Unatsi was quick to scramble after her back to shelter. They managed to operate like this for a couple of days, not venturing out as far as Una had when he’d gotten lost, the guide ready to bring him back if there seemed to be imminent danger.
So far, it just seemed like another one of the dull days of waiting and shivering. The ruddy-furred farmer stepped outside to survey the sky, the doe standing tense beside him. “Is it too much to hope for?” he asked her, and her ears swiveled toward him as he coughed and added, “For it to let up a little, I mean. It can’t last forever.” He spoke the uncharacteristically optimistic words in a shaky voice, and the guide graced him with a tiny smile before a caw broke through the rhythm of the unceasing rains.
Unatsikanogeni recognized the spirit guide Degataga immediately, and jerked to attention as the other’s caws became a cry for help. His speech was brief, but it had Unatsi bolting in the direction of the raven’s flapping wings, his movements uncoordinated against the wind but unrelenting. There was nothing in his mind but the need to save Aranck, even if it meant braving the storm. After all, Aranck had wanted to do nothing but help him through his own issues; he hadn’t turned his back on the fallen Ayastigi even when others had.
“Aranck!” the farmer shouted, stumbling in the mud. He gasped in wet air, glancing at the doe as she leaped effortlessly beside him, momentarily losing the raven guide in the fierce rain. “Hatlv wigaloli?” he asked, and Udanvti grunted an answer as she dashed onward, showcasing the whitetail’s speed and agility. He felt like a one-legged bear trying to keep up, but he pushed himself, finally coming across the ranger’s station—or what was left of it. Dread dropped like a stone in his stomach, and he could do little more than stare as he caught his breath. “Hia tla yudalula…”
He trembled as Udanvti stepped forward and nosed at some of the planks of wood, her big ears finally flicking toward the creaking remnants of the building. She began to step amongst the wreckage, her soft muzzle brushing along the structure to check for weak points; one section on the far end collapsed at her touch, but everything else seemed sturdy. She nodded pointedly to Unatsi, who wasted no time jumping forward and beginning to claw away wood and debris, shouting the old man’s name over and over again, praying for an answer.
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