Sheltered
A Thursday Prompt Story

The sun began to fall quickly, bringing the temperature down with it. Ominous dark clouds towered high overhead as Hunter made his way through the vast expanse of dimly illuminated hardwoods which surrounded him. The air was heavy with the scent of rain; that strong, earthy scent, fresh and pure.

The brown and beige wolf had sought to reconnect with his love of nature and leave everything behind; his rural home, his mate and all his belonging, bringing nothing with him except the clothes on his back which he had bundled together and stored in a make-shift storage pack using various vines, twigs and broad leaves with which he carried in attempt to keep them dry.

He trekked on, his own fur the only protection he had from the bitter cold as he looked for a proper site he could call ‘home’ deep in the forests where there was no civilization for miles. The threat of rain began to increase as the droplets began to trickle down, filling the quiet sound of the forest with subtle pecks of noise as he desperately sought shelter. In this cold Northern weather, hypothermia was a real threat; being cold AND wet was a deadly combination to even the hardiest of beings.

Those subtle pecks began to grow in cadence as the rain began to fall, a thin sheet of small droplets which showered down upon him quickly dampened his fur and sending shivers down his spine. He needed shelter NOW, the perfect location was not the priority, he needed to get out of the rain and to get warm.

Very quickly he covered his make-shift clothing sack in a thick layer of leaves and sticks to keep dry as he set to work, grabbing a bunch of logs and sticks and began building a sturdy frame to his temporary home. Anything would work to get him out of the rain, as he set forth in building a simple lean-to, using two thick and strong branches as the vertical beams. He then began leaning several others diagonally and lashing them together with vines, and various lengths of anything that would serve as proper cordage.

With the frame built, he worked as fast as he could to build up a thick mat of vegetation and sticks upon the frame to insulate it and keep water from seeping in. It was a daunting task and took quite a bit of time as the rain soon began to pound in heavy sheets. His proud, dry fur was now completely matted, cold rain began to trickle down his face and fall from his muzzle in steady streams as he worked.

Luckily his movements and determination along with his thick fur kept him somewhat warm; he was miserable and wet, but he only slightly felt the chill. He knew there was no time to waste, the longer he was subjugated to this dampness and the dropping temperature of the falling sun, the greater the risk. He worked hard and fast, using every available source of flora to completely waterproof his lean-to and every ounce of reserved energy.

At last, after 30 minutes of intense activity and steady craftsmanship, he built a home which he could help stay dry and one he could spend the night in safely – at least he hoped. Unburying his clothing and quickly making a mad dash for the entryway, he at last found himself in a place he could hide and stay warm.

He desired so badly to put on his clothing; they were still dry and warmer than his own fur, but he knew by doing so he would soak his last resort for protection against the bitter cold and hinder his chance of surviving the night. No, he needed to remain vigilant and try and dry himself as much as possible without risking dampening his clothing. He had to wait, to let his body dry on its own to reduce the chance of infusing his last chance of survival.

Sitting upright, he cuddled into a ball; compressing his body against his core, and wrapping his tail around his paws to keep them warm. He wanted to focus his remaining warmth around his vital organs, for he knew if his body temperature dropped he was doomed. This was an instinctual drive, one that came without any logical thought or reasoning; his body knew what it had to do for self-preservation and comfort.

The longer he sat, the more he felt the bitter cold seep into his bones. The heat he generated from moving about and working was quickly seeping away, being absorbed into the damp cold environment in which he found residence. Although he was no longer getting rained on, he still felt soaked, cold and miserable as he tucked his ears flat against his head and began to shiver.

Was this the end? Did he make a fatal mistake of thinking he could survive in this harsh place? For the longest time he saw serenity and peace in nature; was this her way of retaliation and showing him, things are not always as they seemed?

The sun soon hung upon the horizon as he peered into the fading light glowing through the gray clouds. Deep in his mind, he knew things could only get worse from here, with the coming darkness his hope of a restful night began to fade. He began to soon softly whine as darkness reigned; he feared he would not make it through the night and that he would succumb to the cold.

After hours of suffering, the feeling in his toes and fingers began to quickly dissipate and turn to a numb tingling as he tried to move them. From head to toe he felt nothing but a blinding chill as the moon rose high into the sky, revealing his night was only but halfway over. Self-Chastisement dampened his spirit, he felt a fool for taking on this challenge and felt responsible for putting himself in this peril position.

What would come if he should fail? He would have a loving widow he had left behind who knew nothing of his fate, someone who loved him dearly and would be completely torn. Who would feel the same amount of guilt for not trying to stop him. The depressing thoughts of what he would leave behind him and what he had done kept him from getting any rest. At this point he felt nothing, his body was numb and paralyzed, only the loathing of his situation and the prayer for daylight to come and bathe his damp body and mind with the relief of it’s warmth.

If he was to survive the night he needed to stay strong, to toss away any doubts and remorse and to fight. It was all too easy to quit, but he was not a quitter! He could not leave everything he cherished so deeply and the one that loved him so. He longed for the day he could return home and be held in her tight, warm embrace.

He lay there still and quiet as the rain continued to steadily fall in the darkness upon his shelter. A soothing symphony of patters and echoing noise which woke him from his depression and desperate situation. He laid there fully awake, yet lost in a trance as his mind reeled with positive thoughts and his body was flooded with energy. At last the dampness of his fur began to evaporate.

The pitter patter of rain soon began to slow; until finally reaching a subtle pace before ceasing all together. In the moonlight outside, he looked to see those dark clouds dissipate and the bright orbs of light filled the sky in a divine blanket. It was then he knew…

He was dry, he was strong…and he could make it! Nothing would stop him from seeing daylight again.

-END-

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Here's my entry for the December 7th 2017 Thursday Prompt inspired by the word "Feeling"

This story transpires the events of my sketch here: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/25342722/ and is a small snap-shot and preview of my newest novel story which I am working on and will hopefully begin to upload soon. I thought this fits in well with the prompt as it involves literal feelings (sensations) of cold and misery, along with the emotional feelings of depression in a dire situation.

I've seen many documentaries and shows on people being put in a survival situation in which their life is on the line and they all go through this phase of depression and self chastisement and wondering what they are leaving behind...only to pull through and develop the strength to get through it and survive!

It's amazing how even when we are put in the face of death, how our will to survive is so prevalent and we can overcome any obstacle. Having that fortitude and will is what keeps us alive.

Hope you guys enjoy!