It had been… Two days? Since the prisoners had arrived. The dungeon was even more dangerous to dig in, so James refused to let me leave camp. There were too many eyes wandering the halls now, so we were forced to sit in the dark.

“We should re-arrange the rocks. With my pants and your towel, we could stop all light from escaping.” His voice, normally calm and soothing, had an edge of hysteria to it that gave me anxiety now.

“And us with it.” I said pointedly.

“We’re trapped in here Jazz, if there was any reason to run, it would be crawling in through the very same door.” He had me there.

“Alright alright, stop. You’re making a mess of things, let me do it.” James was crouched over the rocks toppling them across the floor in his blind attempt to rebuild it. The noise alone would attract someone. “I’m going to touch you,” I warned before grabbing his shoulder. He was reluctant to leave the rock wall, determined to get this done. “I promise I will rebuild it. Ok? Promise.” After a moment, he let me take over.

The light’s absence had done a number on us but James more so than me. I’d accepted that perhaps I could see in the dark, or something to that end given the events of the Black Night- what I’d come to call the night the prisoners were dropped down here. James, though, could not see in the dark. We tried to talk to pass time, but often something would enter the grand hall and we’d be trapped in tense silence while we waited for it to pass.

I lay the towel over the exit again, with two of the biggest rocks behind it for support, stacking more rocks on top of it. The rock wall filled the entire entrance, and above it I laid James’ pants. “Done.” The lamp was on before I finished speaking.

“Gods, I feel like I’m going mad.” James was hunched against the wall, his hair, once styled into a pompadour was now disheveled.

“You’re not as far along as me at least,” I shrugged offering a poor attempt at comfort.

“I hit you for simply brushing up against my arm earlier.” The episode really bothered him.

“James, you couldn’t see, and someone was dying just outside our door. Of course, you’d lash out at something touching you unexpectedly-”

“I knew you were beside me. I shouldn’t have hit you.” He snapped back. His eyes had the same spark of insanity I’d seen in the prisoner the night he’d tried to choke me.

“Apology accepted then.” I sighed frustrated. We were more likely to fight now than talk like friends.

James pulled my pack towards him. While I eyed him, he fished through it looking frantically. It was my leather notebook. I’d brought it to write in myself, and it kept a list of all our supplies. He flipped it open and started writing frantically. It irked me that he’d never asked to write in it, but If it helped him fight through the fear who was I to take it away? His skin was sweaty and pale, and his eyes were sunken in with dark rings under them. We couldn’t waste time waiting for the prisoners to die out, we didn’t have time. “We can’t-”

“No.” It was the same argument we’d had since the Black Night. I needed to keep going out, to keep digging. James was more cautious though, saying we had to wait things out and only risk it when the odds were more in our favour.

I angrily slammed myself back into my favourite spot, directly across from the entrance. James was still madly scribbling and paid no mind to me. I sighed loudly. He ignored me. We sat like that for a while before he finally looked up from his book. I was still scowling.

“Everything we do here is a gamble, Jazz, but we need to play smart and play with our odds. Not against them.” The hysteria had left his voice and when I looked at him, he had that same passive face he normally wore.

“What were you writing?” I glared at him. He was right and that alone made me angrier.

“Something to ease my worries,” I grumbled my response. “Can I help ease yours?” Just being in the light seemed to whisk away any threat he had of losing his mind and I envied him of that. Even in the light I could sometimes here the whispers plaguing me.

“Not unless you could prevent me from losing my sanity.” He raised his eyebrow questioningly and I shook my head looking for something to change the subject too. “Tell me about the magic in this world.”

He analyzed my face, “And why the sudden interest Jazz? I thought you didn’t believe in that stuff.”

“I don’t believe there’s such thing as magic that can pull someone to another world or make them fly,” I shrugged, “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t believe in magic as a concept. Its just not what’s normally depicted in media.” And I didn’t want to talk about the voices I’d been hearing.

“And what is normally depicted in media?” He sounded bemused.

“The ability to fly for one. Being able to conjure fire, transform oneself into something else, see in the dark…”

“Oh? So many of the things our Sorcerers and other races of this world are capable of.” He had a knowing expression, “You wouldn’t happen to be asking because one of these things has happened too you has it?” He seemed to read something out of my expression and continued, “Jazz, whether or not you choose to believe it, magic does exist in this world. The magic of yours is still alive here as well.” He watched me while I thought.

“I was a witch back in my world.” I rarely spoke of my practice. There was a resurgence, sure, and it was popular to be one now; but if people knew you believed it, more so than just ‘experimenting’, they’d judge you for it.

“I was under the impression that magic no longer worked there.” He put the book down now fully invested in the conversation. Something in his interest and knowledge of the subject gave me the impression that he studied the arts himself.

“It doesn’t really… The spells I cast required a lot of components otherwise they can only affect small changes.” I couldn’t make eye contact with him now; I was too embarrassed.

“Like?”

“Like… Like I had a spell to prevent me from losing my keys. I’d always know exactly where they were.” I shrugged and felt colour rise in my cheeks.

“And did it work?” James seemed too excited with this conversation.

“Ever since I was ten, I never lost those keys again.” He smiled hearing that. “If I’d forgotten them at home, I could picture exactly where I’d seen them last and they’d always be there. The magic we practice in our world is largely based in what psychological changes you can create in yourself, but it could never affect anything physically.” He nodded, and it seemed it made sense to him and his own knowledge of magic.

“And what about now? What can you do now?” I’d never learn to read this man, yet he could read me like an open book it seemed.

“Why? Do you think I could use it to get us out of here?” A glimmer of hope entered my voice.

“If you knew the right spell, had all the correct ingredients, I’d imagine so.” And that glimmer was dashed. “I’ll admit, I dabbled myself. Always dreamed I could become a sorcerer even,” He laughed bitterly, “but I the end I never had the courage to try.”

“Oh. Well… I think I can see in the dark.” I said it as nonchalantly as I could muster. It felt crazy even speaking of it, and I questioned once again all the evidence I’d experiencing that led me to the conclusion. The light turned off and I blinked a couple times until I could see again.

“How many fingers?” James was sitting there, eagerly holding up his hands.

I laughed, “Three.”

Now?”

“Five.” We were both smiling. “Seven. Ten.” James clicked the lamp back on.

“So, you can see. I was wondering why you weren’t going as mad as I was these past few days.” I scratched my head and gave him an apologetic smile. He went on to explain, “In our world there are two systems of magic: Witchcraft and Sorcery. Witchcraft is from your world; it relies on manipulating mana and converting it from one form into another, but also requires vast amounts of research and components to perform.” I nodded, these weren’t new concepts too me and a large part of the practice was spent researching ingredients, looking up other spells or trying to find books you could learn off; which was made things difficult given the past book burnings. “Sorcery on the other hand is the natural magic of my world. It relies on creating a permanent bond between the sorcerer and an element…” James expression grew dark, “Which is done when one successfully completes a trial. No small feat mind that, countless tens of thousands have sacrificed their lives trying to complete a trial for this kingdom, with no success.”

“Damn, all that just to use magic. Doesn’t seem worth it.” I voiced my thoughts.

James’ expression grew darker still. I wondered what secret he was hiding, “No. The power of a single sorcerer can change everything for a kingdom, an earth elemental can save us from famine, a flame can destroy entire armies, a water could miraculously heal away any plague.” A look of desperate frustration entered his eyes and seemed at home there, “but seldom does anyone succeed.” He stopped talking.

After waiting some time, I realized he wasn’t going to continue, “What sort of trial?” He shook his head. He’d cheered up my mood but in return he’d grown sullen. I sighed again, a habit I’d picked up these past few days, and stretched myself out to sleep.

We were only disturbed by one scream this night.

- -

When I woke the camp was dark. James was softly snoring, the book cradled against his chest. We had been stretching out our water the past few days and ate what supplies that didn’t require water to make. Yesterday was as far as it would go. As silently as I could I prepared to fetch more. James was a smart man and likely would agree that getting water was necessary but leaving had become so hotly argued between us that to avoid it I snuck out.

The familiar musty smell of the dungeon greeted me. The great hall was empty allowing plenty of time to remake the barrier from this side. It would mean I couldn’t dash in quickly, but it also protected James, when he finally woke up, from giving away our camp.

A large part of the anxiety that gnawed at me every time I ventured out was gone now that I knew I could see in the dark. Mana surged into my hands and the glow they cast helped further ease my fear. Whatever whispers I was hearing in the dark couldn’t hurt me so long as I had this.

Travel was slower now that there wasn’t just one thing to look out for. Great pains had to be taken to avoid even the smallest of rubble, for anyone could be hiding in the cramped cells lining the halls. These men were all likely stronger than me, but I could see them. It was my only advantage and I wasn’t going to waste it.

When I got too the fork where the trap door room and the hall to the creek met there was just a pool of blood indicating anything had happened. It was a relief. The bloody trail led towards the trap door room naturally and I made a mental note to never go that way again.

There was no one in sight on the way to the creek but when I got there, it was a different story. As I turned the corner towards the source, shouting erupted from the torture room. Sounds of a fight broke out between multiple men. Yelling would attract the beast, and the fastest way towards the torture room was likely through this hall forcing me to backtrack and hide myself in one of the small cells.

Minutes passed, and the fight died. The cell was to far away to hear anything short of yelling coming from that direction so no indication on whether they’d left reached me. I kept hidden, worried I’d step out just as the beast passed. Sounds of his footsteps reached me long before the prisoner came into view, bleeding and blindly feeling the wall as he passed. This one was near my age, as tall as me but broad and dressed in the same rags as the first prisoner. He passed me none the wiser of my presence, and the chance to escape presented itself. My eyes squeezed shut. He was hurt, walking away from the one room where there could be a glimmer of hope at getting out. Instead he’d go and get killed believing there was no other option.

“Are you ok?” I called to him.

He spun around, blindly searching for the source of my voice, “Is that a girl? How did you get here? There were no girls sent down with us.” He had a thick accent; one I’d never heard before and had nothing to compare it to from Earth.

“Sent to die, much like you I imagine.” My voice was quiet in case his friends were close behind. He began to walk towards me. “Stay back.” While he sounded as scared as I was, he didn’t have an edge of hysteria in his voice like the first prisoner I met. Perhaps he could join us?

Holding his hands up he stopped, “I’m not going to hurt you.” When I didn’t respond he added, “Look, there’s some bad men down there. Talking bout cannibalism. You don’t want to go that way.” The halls behind me were still silent.

“You’re bleeding, did you fight them?” Surprise crossed his face, likely at the concern I was showing him.

“How can you tell?” Scratch that, he was surprised I could see.

A moment passed while I scrambled to think of any excuse. Eventually, I landed on the truth, “I’m… A dabbling witch?” Nervousness racked me.

“Ah, well… It’s not my blood. You have a spell that can get us out of here?” He took it better than I’d imagined. This world must find magic normal.

“If I did, I wouldn’t be here.” That seemed to make sense to him as he didn’t press it.

“I’m Hendrick.” His hand raised to shake mine, but it was too dangerous to let him grab me. The man was built like a beast and could easily overpower me, my only chance would be to run if things turned south.

“Jazz, don’t mind that I won’t shake your hand. Last man I met down here tried to kill me.” He considered this, choosing what to say carefully.

“How did you get here Jazz? How long you been here?”

“Dropped down here by the trap door in the throne room almost a week ago. Insulted the king.” We were still alone; it was probably safe to head to the source at this point. If the beast were coming, I was sure he’d have passed by now. “I need to fetch water, and I don’t hear anything coming down the halls now.” The hallway with the creek was empty on both sides. Behind me, like I’d predicted, he was trying to follow me.

“How have you been surviving down here?” He couldn’t see me, but he followed the sound of my foot falls with a comfortable space between us.

“I’ve been digging to keep my sanity, hiding when I rest, and drinking when I’m thirsty.” The rations weren’t mentioned. There was no trust between us yet.

“Why dig? They say if you slay the beast, you’ll be set free. You can’t possibly dig your way out... Unless you know something I don’t.” He was using the wall to help keep his balance while he stumbled to keep up.

“When you kill the beast how will they know? Have they opened the door since you’ve been cast down here, given you any instruction on how to notify them?” His mouth opened and closed but he was at a loss for words. When we reached the source, he obliged me the space I needed between us without any word of complaint. Perhaps I could trust him.

“Let me help you then Jazz.” His friendliness felt forced, but mine was too given where we were.

“You want to help dig?” James was wrong about these men. Or at least some of them.

“Just… How do you know it’ll work? We’ve got to be at least two stories underground, and unless you have some sort of magic helping you dig, I doubt you’ll be getting that far before you starve… Or,” He glanced around. I knew what he meant.

“Or get killed. Yeah, at the other end of this creek the water flows out through a crack at the bottom of the wall. The stones have also fallen away, and the dirt is soft there. I’ll be honest with you, its only an educated guess but water always flows out and where it flows it often creates caves.”

He considered this for a while as the jug filled. I was capping it by the time he answered, “They haven’t opened the gate since we’ve been sent here.” Anger coloured his voice, “A fool’s quest, promised if we survived… Killed, all our debts would be forgiven, and we’d be set free.” His fists were balled at his side and he shook.

“Did you… Volunteer to come here? Why?” It hadn’t occurred to me that they’d offer this as a route of salvation. The king’s cruelty knew no bounds.

“You insulted the king and for that were sent to die here, well… I’m a deserter. Another insult to the king, and for that they killed my children. Said they couldn’t have disloyalty breeding.” He punched the wall behind him, “I risked everything for the fool’s wars, killing changelings and elves. They told me if I killed one more changeling for the king, they’d set me free.” We stood in darkness while he collected himself. “I’ll help you dig. Fuck the king, and fuck this.” Standing up straighter he once again held out his hand. This time I took it.

“Let’s go then.” We held hands making it easier to lead him through the pitch black. We did meet more prisoners in the dark, but when I mentioned them to him, he squeezed my hand.

“Jazz, we’ve all killed at least one other so far. It isn’t the wolf hunting us, he’s just eating the remains. You’re lucky it was me you found.” There was a lot of blood on him too and I realized why he’d walked away from that fight.

It was easy to navigate around the blind prisoners, some heard us pass due to Hendrick kicking a rock or stepping in a puddle but in their blindness, they were unable to catch us before we’d be gone.

When we arrived, Hendrick waited while I crouched low and began taking down the little wall I’d created. James got to it faster, angrily muttering while tearing it apart and scattering the stones behind him. Small beams of light began to escape as he tore at the barrier. “James, stop you’re making a mess.”

“Bigger than the mess you nearly got yourself into? You could’ve died.” James’ words were hard. He was furious. Beside me Hendrick seemed uncomfortable, likely realizing we wouldn’t be alone in this. His eyes were huge drinking in the first glimpse of light he’d had in three days.

“Damn James, you sound like my dad.”

He cursed, “I feel sorry for the man.” My chuckle only irritated him more. The way free, I pushed myself through with the help of James roughly pulling me as well. He’d already started rebuilding the wall when Hendrick poked his head in.

“James is it? Hendrick.” He began pushing himself in, but James knelt in his way, glaring.

“Let him in James.” I said indignantly.

“You’re reckless Jazz.” He was seething but retreated to the sleeping bag. Hendrick had to work to get in the place, his shoulders were almost too broad. The moment his foot was in the wall was rebuilt in the same fashion as before. It had given me anxiety before but having now seen it from the other side had proven it was effective. Nothing could see our light at least.

Once situated he formally addressed James. “A noble?” Hendricks smile turned mocking, “And pant-less too, you sent here for mooning the king?” The blood rose in James face.

“Charming, and who did you kill to earn your keep here?” James had a terrifyingly calm voice that conflicted with the anger in his eyes. He schooled his face back to neutral quickly as well.

“Woah, children, calm down,” I scolded trying to lighten the mood, “James is here because he abolished slavery in his lands without the kings blessing, Hendrick is here because he deserted, tired of killing changelings and elves. There’s no reason to hate each other.”

“A deserter has no sense of loyalty Jazz; he’ll stab us in the back soon as we sleep.” James reasoned.

It was going to be a long night. Hendrick was squinting hard at James, “Toriel, am I right? The James Toriel.”

“Don't sully my name by speaking it,” James neutral voice cracked which egged Hendrick on.

“James the childnapper-"

James lunged up to his knees, “I will gut you if you speak any more,” his voice echoed off the walls.

“Stop!” James on one side, Hendrick the other, and me in the middle. “Have you two lost your wits? You!” my finger jabbed at James, “Yelling down here? And you!” My accusation stopped Hendricks smirk, “I invite you too our camp and you insult my friend. What is wrong with you?” it wasn’t intended as a rhetorical question, when Hendrick realized that he began to stammer.

“Have you not heard what he’s done?” he sounded like a child trying to weasel their way out when they’d already been caught red handed.

“I don’t care what he’s done! Whose blood is that on you? You’re no more innocent then he.” He matched my glare with his own. His eyes flicked to the knife at my hip, James noticed and showed his own hatchet.

A tense silence overtook the camp. It was broken by the sound of rubble shifting in the grand hall. I launched myself towards the lamp, casting all three of us into darkness. My eyes adjusted immediately to the din, James had his hatchet ready and was kneeling in the middle of the camp closest too the exit. Hendricks eyes were searching but he remained in the corner of the camp.

“Give me a weapon.” Hendrick whispered. After that show that that was never happening, but there wasn’t time to answer. As quietly as possible, I slinked towards the wall next to the exit, ready to strike if anything dared stick its head in.

The rubble in the entrance way was being taken part. My first worry was the wolf, then I heard a mans voice call out and I realized what had happened. All the yelling had brought their attention to our little camp. James readied his hatchet beside me and taking his lead I readied my dagger making sure this time the blade was facing the right way. The towel was pulled, and the rest of the rocks collapsed revealing the entrance to them. They didn’t immediately enter. Outside they were whispering to each other, though it was too quiet to pick up what they were saying I recognized the voices. It belonged to the men I’d seen out in the great hall during the Black Night, they were just outside our camp when they’d been chased off. They’d probably returned hoping to finally find us.

A growl silenced their whispering. Apparently, I’d used up all my luck finding Hendrick and in turn brought three prisoners and the wolf to our door. A hand reached in and I realized one of the prisoners was trying to crawl in while his two mates were frantically scratching at the hole trying to make it bigger. The hand disappeared, replaced by his scream as he was pulled away and quickly silenced. The other two yelled and ran. Against my own senses I dropped to the floor and peered out.

In the middle of the room was the remains of the first man, his leg was bloody, and his neck sat at an angle with the wolf towering above him. The other two men had run in separate directions but being blind weren’t fortunate enough to find the exits. Both were sliding along the wall, one was inching his way towards the exit, the other had chosen the wrong direction. I wanted so bad to call out and warn him, but with the wolf right there I’d give away the camp to it too.

“What’s happening?” James placed his hand on my shoulder and leaned down to my ear. One of the wolf’s ears turned to face us, so I put my finger across his lips silencing him.

It was the man closest to escaping that made the first mistake. Something startled him, though I couldn’t tell what, and he yelped. Both ears were on him and using its sense of smell to navigate around the pillars, the wolf approached. My knuckles grew white, and blood filled my mouth from biting my cheek, fighting the urge to warn him. The wolf was directly behind him, still, listening for the man. He had frozen the moment he’d made that noise but gradually began edging his way along the wall again. His hand found the door frame and he pushed himself as fast as he could around it; fast enough to make a sound. The wolf bit at his back, he nearly screamed but the wolfs jaws were around his neck snapping it in one graceful flick. It was using sound to estimate where to bite.

The other man whimpered hearing his friend die and made to quickly run along the wall for the exit, only to slam into the corner of the room. The wolf dropped his prey and made after him. I reached out, trying to grab at one of the pieces of rubble but they’d been scattered to far out of my reach. I pulled myself back into the cave as the last man died, to cowardly to watch any more. We sat for what felt like hours with our backs to the wall and the entrance to our camp open. It wasn’t until we heard the last of the dragging sound disappear into the dark that we finally moved.

The wolf had managed to drag all three corpses out of the great hall meaning it had no reason to return. It was as safe as ever to rebuild the exit so that’s exactly what I did. I quickly collected as much as the rubble as possible, piling it quietly next to the entrance. The towel was no where to be seen, but we still had James’ pants, so I used those in its stead to help block out light. Despite all this, hesitation stopped me from turning on the light. Once again it was James who cast away the dark.

Hendrick hadn’t moved from the corner; he was ghostly white and not talkative. James seemed to have collected himself better and was lounging on the sleeping bag. I remained next to the exit, knife in hand.

“What happened Jazz?” Hendrick flinched when James broke the silence.

“They found us, that same group of prisoners from days ago…” The tang of blood reminded me that I’d failed to act fast enough. I failed to try and save them. “He hunts by sound and smell, didn’t strike at them until they made a noise.” My face grew serious. “If we ever run face to face with it, we shouldn’t try and run since inevitably it’ll make noise. Just don’t move, stay put in the dark and hope he doesn’t sniff you out.”

James nodded solemnly but Hendrick didn’t seem to agree.

“Fuck that. Give me that knife, if you won’t use it I will.” I glared at him, gripping it harder. “What? You don’t want to fight it, let me. I’ll protect you.”

I shook my head, “I’m not giving my only weapon to someone I just met.”

“You ain’t going to use it.” He spat back. “And I’ve killed changelings for a living. Its better in my hands.”

“Do you honestly think you can do anything with it in the dark? He’s huge, and you’re blind.”

“Not to mention, in the army your one in a squad of eight fighting these things with spears and bows.” James chimed in. “You’re no more useful with the dagger than I am.”

Hendrick made to speak again but I cut him off, tired of it all, “Look, I’ve been so kind as to invite you into my camp and share my rations with you, but instead you pick a fight with my friend, give away our position to three other prisoners, then demand my weapon. Why should I keep you here?”

He glared at me for some time. Aware that both of us had weapons, he finally sat back against the wall. “Ok, we’ve got off on the wrong foot, I admit. I-” He looked around for the right word, “I’ve been down here to long in the dark, had to fight for every scrap of meat. Perhaps I don’t quite remember how play nice. I will stop.” He held his hands up in a sign of surrender.

James and I glanced at each other, but ultimately accepted his attempt at an apology. We spent several hours coming down from all the excitement, I carefully listened outside the camp for any signs that the wolf would return, James wrote, and Hendrick made to sleep though he tossed and turned. Assured there would be no surprise visits from the wolf I turned my attention to the hunger growing in me. I was disgusted that I’d grown so used to death that I wanted to eat, but there was no logic in denying myself the strength to survive.

“Right, well. James?” I set the Jug beside him and kneeled. Hendrick spied my knife again, twisting his own empty hands, but said nothing. James pulled out one of the bigger meals, chicken vindaloo, and we set about preparing it like I had before. This caught Hendricks rapt attention and he didn’t pay my knife any more heed.

The lovely smell of chicken vindaloo perfumed the camp. Too bad it smells far better than it tastes. My hunger didn’t mind the bland food, however. We ate in relative peace until I set about washing our dishes.

“You two have been holed up, eating magic food like this, while the rest of us were hunted like animals out there.” Anger changed his strange accent causing his voice to deepen and rasp.

James made to answer but I beat him too it. “They tried to kill me, the moment I met one of you in the dark. Your friends are told they need to be the last one alive, am I wrong? They lived up too that.” There was no sense of apology in my voice, in fact no emotion at all. It was fact, and facts were cruel. “But that didn’t stop me from trying to save you.”

I didn’t look at Hendrick, my hands were focused on washing as much smell as I could from the mess kit. When he spoke again, his voice was more controlled, but anger still coloured it, “why me?”

“Chance. We happened to cross paths, and instead of trying to kill me you talked.” I shrugged. To me there wasn’t any better answer than that. James was right, we didn’t have the supplies to save all the prisoners in the dungeon, but I had the chance to save one and I took it. I had the chance to save three others and failed. The taste of blood didn’t leave me.

“Thank you.” The anger had left him, and he was far more relaxed sitting in the corner now.

“Just… Don’t prove James right and try and pull anything alright?” Hendrick nodded. “James, you have the list of supplies, right? What do we have…”? I glanced at Hendrick, “How many days do you think now that we have another mouth to feed?” James started crossing out things we had finished, tallying it up.

“We ate most of your snacks, which you hadn’t calculated into your rationing initially. That being said its four more days if we cut each meal into thirds instead of half.” I nodded, but Hendrick protested.

“The bigger portion should go to the ones digging, what do you do around here.” He was met with two glares, “His leg is broken, he’s just going to be waiting at the camp so we should eat the rations and dig to save his life. That’s how the nobles always like it anyways, benefiting off the backs of-”

“Enough. These are my rations, and I’m not letting anyone starve down here. He’s healing a broken leg and protecting the camp from any would-be raiders with that hatchet. We dig. End of discussion.” Hendrick looked like he wanted to say more but thought better of it.

I returned to my favourite spot, letting out a frustrated sigh. My stomach was twisted in hunger, my cheek hurt and so did my palms from clenching so hard. Sweat was beading on James forehead and though he put on a brave face I could tell all the movement had really pained him. He fished out another pain killer and popped it, relaxing into the sleeping bag.

“You know what James?” A smile crossed my face.

“Mmm?”

“Names have a lot of power. For example, you can walk through a meadow your entire life and its just another meadow, but the moment you name that place it can become something important. The meadow where I met my wife, the meadow named after so and so. Whatever it is, that meadow becomes important right?” I didn’t wait for him to respond, “Well, I think we should name the wolf Doug. The inverse is true, you name something dumb and it takes away some of that power it had over you. So, I dub the wolf ‘Doug the dog’.”

A minute passed before anyone knew how to react. “I don’t know how my family will react when I tell them I was hunted in the dark for days by Doug the dog.” James laughed.

Hendrick chimed in, “Doug the dog is a terrible name. Why not Midnight, or Shadow beast or something I can proudly say I bested. Anything but Doug.” We all laughed together, which was a first.

“I think it’s the perfect name for something I fear so much.” The smile hurt my cheek, where I’d bitten it. I grew somber quickly.

Noticing my mood James asked, “What’s bothering you Jazz?” James gentle voice broke me from my brooding.

“Those men. I…” Tears welled in my eyes, spilling down my cheek, “I just let them die. I could’ve called out, warned them, thrown a rock or something.” I wiped my eyes frustrated, “But I didn’t. Blackie would have heard us if I did.”

James smiled sadly at me, “Doing what’s right for those you protect does not always mean you’ll be doing what is right by others. Jazz, here you will need to make hard decisions and there will be dire consequences…” He grew serious, “You will need to be prepared to kill for your survival Jazz. Others will not hesitate on your behalf.”

I nodded without really hearing him, too caught up my own personal battle between self pity and hate. The light turned off, and eventually, I began to nod off to the sounds of James’ gentle snoring.