She was shocked when the vision appeared. It had been four winters since her mate had succumbed and she hadn’t seen another of her kind since. She’d thought she was the last.

The image had appeared in her mind with a clarity that shook her.

Only another like her could send such a message. Their sort had been so few for so long that she had lost all hope of ever finding another companion.

It had offered something she had not thought she would ever experience again.

Hope.

Dare she allow such a thing to grow in her?

Somewhere out there in the wilderness was a male. A male compatible with her. He’d sent a message in the hope, perhaps, of finding her. If there was a chance–any chance, however small–then she had to take it.

For she yearned for a companion. She had been alone for such a long time. And she sensed the same ache in the mind pictures the other had sent.  

It would be a long journey. She would need courage. Here the sun baked the earth hard and finding enough water and food to survive was a challenge. But at least it was a challenge she was familiar with. This new place–the place she saw in her mind’s eye, with its cold, forbidding terrain and white covering–was different.

The white death, her mother had called it. Where it was even harder to find what you needed to live.

And then there was the silence. She could feel that silence now when she saw the pictures he sent to her. From his mind to hers she could sense the stillness; the smothering deadness.

There was silence here, in the desert, too. But it wasn’t the same.

She’d answered his call and set out. Set out with urgency and optimism. And she could sense the same change in him. The surge of energy coupled with anticipation and a youthful, puppy-like excitement in his messages.

The images he sent acted like a beacon. She knew which way to head; knew it would take several cycles of the moon to get there but that didn’t deter her. Undaunted, she pushed herself, often travelling at night to avoid the greatest dangers.

Once, she saw a big mountain cat. Like her, it was a female. They eyed each other for a long time before the feline moved on. She instinctively knew that the predator was suffering the same as she was. So few of her kind left, either.

The mountains were especially hard, but infinitely preferable to those areas where the pale, two-legged monsters dwelled. It was unwise to travel too close to their overground burrows where they thronged together in huge packs. When she had to, she moved through only at night, slinking warily amidst the long shadows of their noisy, smelly habitats.

When it got particularly hard, his voice kept her going, and it gladdened her that she was no longer alone; that there was another to share the burden.

ooOoo

Then, one morning, she woke to the scene she had seen in her visions and knew her journey was nearly over. The ground was covered in a soft, white blanket. Except for the white crystals descending, everything was completely still. The deadly flakes fell soundlessly, sucking the sound from the very air, creating a deadness that left her awed. Awed and wary.  

She’d never actually walked in the snow before. The sensation was strange as she padded silently through the forest. She was close now. His presence in her head was much stronger, the images clearer; more visceral.

Glancing behind she could see her own tracks. She sensed the need to be more careful, but there was little she could do about her prints.

She feared the two-legged hunters the most, with their boom-sticks that killed from afar. She had managed to avoid them so far, but they were never far away and she had had to use guile to evade them.

To her joy, when she emerged into the open the scene before her matched the picture of the lake her distant companion had been sending for so long.

Then she heard his howl. Her excitement grew as the moment she had waited for–longed for–approached.

But something was wrong! She sensed the danger as she loped silently across the rocks and then she heard a deafening boom, followed immediately by two more booms. They echoed across the water, shattering the stillness.

There was a blur as she sighted him, crawling desperately between two firs. She felt sick. The hunters were here. She was so sure she had eluded them. Had they been waiting? Waiting for her to arrive.

She could see his shape, lying forlornly in the snow. The snow that was slowly turning red where he lay. And now there was desolation in her heart. She moved toward him and stood, panting heavily as she watched for the ruthless hunters.

His eyes were sad as they met hers. He reached out a paw and she lowered her head to his and watched as his lids slowly closed for the last time.

And the silence - the silence was too loud.

Not just in the snow. In her head. Where, for the last few weeks, there had been a voice–a warm, enticing voice full of hope–there was now only quiet. A devastating hush that pierced her heart.

Her new mate was gone before she had ever had a chance to meet him.

Slowly, she turned and stole into the trees, leaving the companion that was never destined to be. She had no idea where she was going – only that she had to move on before she succumbed to the deadly silence.

ooOoo

If you listen carefully, you can sometimes hear her voice in the snowy wastes. Hear the mournful call of a wolf searching for a companion.

A she-wolf, alone, with nowhere else to go.