Frozen. Everything was frozen, not just the land but the village, the people. Frozen in time, in fear, a perpetual winter. It had been this way since before the girl was born. Long before her parents died and she was brought to this place. Before the Chief’s spoiled daughter named her Yliren, “girl”, and told the village children that she was raised by wolves.

The stories of their people were told by the elders around ritual fires on their sacred nights. Yliren would sit behind them, just out of the light, in the shadows of the homes and listen. She knew them by heart now. How they were nomadic people first, moving from place to place, hunting, farming, prospering. Then they would receive a sign from the gods, and travel to the next place the gods deemed worthy. They were a great clan, living, learning, adapting to each new place. Until they came here, and it found them.

The people were adjusting to the cold, frosty terrain. Learning how to farm the hardened ground, studying the animals. They were making this place their home, then the Knawl came. Some believed it to be an evil, magical creature, others thought it to be a demon. No one who had seen it lived to tell of its appearance, but everyone knew the sound. It blasted the defining howl through the air just before it killed. Something like a roar and a wail released simultaneously. When she heard it, Yliren could feel the chill in her marrow.

It normally came every two months on the night of a dark moon, when it could slink through the blackness, and take a victim. Sometimes it was two if the villagers got brave and tried to escape or fight. They tried to leave, many times, but they only moved in circles, always ending up where they began. Then the Knawl would take a second victim, punishment for attempting to escape. It always left the body behind, a gnarled, bloody heap.

What was left of their face was twisted, contorted in the pain they experienced in their last moments. For years, the elders prayed, worshiped, performed rituals, but their gods were nowhere to be found. Forsaken, they settled into this cold, motionless existence, waiting for something, anything that could release them from this torture.

Many had tried to defeat the Knawl. Their best warriors had set out to hunt the beast, and they were never seen again. Each generation had the stories of the brave men and women who attempted to kill the Knawl. This time they were four young men and two young women with whom Yliren had grown up with.

This would not have bothered her, for she hadn’t formed any connections with the children she had trained with, save for one. A boy, Kymn, who had befriended her when the others had teased and bullied her relentlessly. He refused to hide their friendship.

"What you think does not matter," Kymn explained to them.

No one messed with him about it after that. He was brave and caring, and when the others decided to go after the beast, he could not allow them to go without him. Even when she begged him not to.

He simply replied, “If it were you going, I would do the same thing. I cannot let them go alone when I can stand beside them.”

Yliren had been angry. She’d yelled, called him names, told him he would be useless against the Knawl. He shrugged off the words as if she hadn’t insulted him and declared he would miss her. Then he disappeared into the wind-blown snow.

That had been two weeks ago. Yliren knew because she had counted the days without Kymn. She had appealed to the village Chief, these were their young men and women, the future of the clan, they already lost a villager so frequently. She was unsuccessful. Yliren knew she would be, but she also knew she had to try. If the Chief would not attempt to find them, she would do so herself. Kymn would do no less for her.

So, in the dead of night with her bow and arrows, she stole away from the home of the widow who kept her. She took a dagger and staff from the village armory and started east in the direction the Knawl was believed to reside. Firelight stopped her at the edge of town. The Chief's daughter, Neyl, stood torch in hand. The beautiful raven-haired girl, the Chief heir, gave her a look of disgust.

“I knew you were going to go.” She smirked, “You’re so foolish. He’s dead. You’re going to die too.”

“Then at least you won’t have to look at me anymore.” Yliren juggled her pack on shoulders and stood tall. Neyl would not get in her way.

“Oh, I have prayed to the gods every day that you would go back to the animals you belong with. I’m just amused that you think you can rescue dead men. You always were stupid.” Neyl sneered.

Yliren never knew why Neyl hated her so much. It never really mattered to her, and it still didn’t, Yliren wasn’t curious enough about the woman to wonder what made her hate. The names, the bullying, she never gave it a second thought. Sometimes, Yliren felt there was something wrong with her as Neyl claimed. She just didn’t experience those emotions. She was numb to most of the villagers and their oppinions or comments.

“Why would you risk your life for him? Neyl asked.

Yliren sighed. It was a prospect that Neyl would never understand, but she would explain it anyways, “It’s loyalty. Those with power and position can buy it, but for the rest of us, true loyalty is more important than anything. If it were me out there, he would do the same. I won’t give up on him.”

“Do you love him that much?”

The question caught Yliren by surprise. Did she? Or was that another emotion she didn't have? “I don’t know what love is, Neyl. But if I did, I suspect it would be him. Now get out of my way.”

She pushed forward, passing Neyl without a second thought.

“I’m telling you he’s dead. You’ll be dead too!” Neyl yelled at her.

“All the better for you, since there is no point in living here without him.” She called over her shoulder as she continued into the darkness.