[indent][indent][h2][i]Nanook[/i][/h2][/indent][/indent]

It was true that the trees did not know how to keep secrets.  Their voices were rustling through the afternoon in some strange excitement that sounded too merry for Nanook’s liking.  His ear twitched in annoyance, and a sharp pain clawed its way through his fur.  He could feel tears misting his eyes.  Their coldness sprinkled over his vision as he shut it tightly.  His whole body was flushing with an aching soreness, he had never known until now.  Nanook wished for several seconds that the feeling and him had never met. He did not like the feeling.  It hurt.

A loud breath puffed from his pink nose, scratched from the sharp nails of the avalanche. The young yeti let out a whisper of a whine upon realizing the passion he would have to endure as he continued his habit of life. He was ready, though.  He knew it in his bone as they moved with the tenderness of his disordered muscles. He was so tired; and learning of this new sensation was excruciatingly difficult.  Another puff was exuded in complaint, and a low growl at the trees to hush their gossiping rumbled coarsely in the depths of his throat.  

His body gently collapsed into the nave of the cave, again.  The warmth of the ground felt soothing, as he slowly reopened his eyes, peering through through wet, scoffed fur at the narthex of the cave. There was a stillness in the atmosphere.  It was nice and calm with fluffy snow, comfortably sleeping in the daytime mass. 

The wind picked itself a little, strengthening its blows through the scenery.  It rustled through Nanook’s fur.  He enjoyed the compliments that it sang to him.  Although, he could not quite remember what he had done, and for that matter, he was beginning to realize, he was not quite sure why he was resting in a cave all by himself.  He had gone out last night.  It was… [i]It was his birthday![/i]

With excitement jolting through him, his body tried to spring astutely into action. However, his body would not budge in the ways he wanted it to move.  Instead, it shook with weakness and stayed put, cuddled against the cave flooring.  Nanook’s ears tipped backwards in discontent and then lifted, as small as they were, in a worry or panic. [i]It was his birthday.[/i]  An astonishing noble feeling grabbed hold of him.  He had done this to himself, he reminded himself gently, lifting his body forward and carefully turning away from the entrance of the hollow. [i]My human.[/i] A white paw was carefully lifted and placed down, silently moving himself to his human.

He was cold, and Nanook quickly covered the furless instrument with his own body.  The yeti’s eyes were now opened wide.  His memory was returning in flushes of justice and thankfulness as he felt the faint heartbeat of [i]his[/i] flutter tirelessly underneath him.  All of the jarring discomfort that he had endured started to feel like victorious battle wounds. He was proud he knew them, now. The shift in his mindset gave him adrenaline and strength.  [i]His[/i] was safe.  He was cold but safe.

Nanook nuzzled the tip of his nose against [i]his'[/i] cheek, licking the wounds.  [i]His[/i] was such a fragile creation.  His very own pains seemed so harmless when addressing the frailty of [i]his.[/i]  The yeti should never have turned their backs on their humans, and with that thought, Nanook took a small glance at the peaceful nature painted outside of the cave. No matter how ugly the humans had made the night, the artist had turned the mistake into… into another masterpiece.  His eyes shifted back to [i]his,[/i] but as glorious as the masterpiece outside appeared, it was nothing as precious and special as [i]his.[/i] This would be his favorite birthday gift forever, and if this was to be his favorite birthday gift forever, then it was up to him to take care of it forever.

The land outside looked familiar, even if had been turned into a more snowy atmosphere.  He had seen this happen once or twice before.  Navigating would not be as hard, even with his nose snuffled in injury.  He was a brave warrior; he had no reason to worry.  He had triumphantly waged against an avalanche, an unnatural one at that!  And, he was no longer a cub. There was no sense in waiting for [i]his[/i] to awake.  His breaths were too light for his body, not that Nanook had much knowledge on how the human instrument was to be used. There was an idea that pulled on his heart, and it was hinting to him that there was more rest that was needed for a proper recovery. In the meantime, Nanook decided he would go hunt for food and more nursing equipment to keep bettering [i]his[/i].


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"Some secrets are better silent," Nanook scoffed at the trees as he entered the cave, once again.  They had been mocking him the entire time.  He knew they might tell his father, who would be furious.  Fortunately, the trees could be trouble makers and were not necessarily the loyalist of creatures.  [i]Like humans,[/i] Nanook told himself.  His face scrunched at the thought.  Trees could be just as bad as humans, but humans could be better than trees.  His mouth grimaced at the thought of his friend Osha's counter argument.  She was always dismissing the more elaborate thinking creations as lesser than the ones who could barely think for themselves, such as the trees.  She normally won, but Nanook always told himself she didn't know what she was harping about.  She only lived in the water.  She would always counter argue his claim at her lack of knowledge by saying the water was greater than the land.  Nanook was sure the wind stirred the ocean more than the ocean stirred the wind, though.  His mother always told them to stop arguing: everything was equally important to each other, and there was no reason for petty quarrels and judgments.

It might have been his mother who unknowingly caused him to question his father's authority.  If there was no reason for petty quarrels and judgments, then why were humans the enemies?  They were the opposite of the enemies; they were their allies, their friends.  The yeti were supposed to care for their human counterparts. It was evident that the yeti were neglecting their duties, and Nanook was determined to make things right.  He was going to make sure the trees did not get him into trouble.  Yet, anyways.

Shrubs had been pulled to cover [i]his[/i] and keep him warm.  Nanook had also found food, successfully avoiding seeing Osha.  She was good at surprising him, knowing the waters so well.  The avalanche had probably scared her away.  She was not as daring as Nanook was.  Playing in the aftermath of an avalanche sounded like a fun idea, but he had something more important and dutiful to attend, such as [i]his.[/i]  A warm smile, weary from venturing rested in a purr as a King Salmon plopped from his mouth. Puncture wounds had caused the fish to cease its struggles.  Nanook could not remember when the Salmon had passed; he had been too busy trying to scurry through the snow without getting distracted by the world.  Secretly, he wished he had known, feeling badly that he had not been able to gift him a parting silence of gratitude for sacrificing his life for that of a human's life. 

Nanook laid himself gently next to [i]his,[/i] letting the smaller creature catch the warmth of his larger mass. Small breaths were still casting small ghosts from his mouth.  They seemed more alive, now.  The parted lips were more colorful, and the eyebrows were less furrowed.  The body had knitted itself into a sturdier weave. His human would be already. Nanook knew this and in acknowledgement, he extended his paw to caress the smooth skin.  The notion was one for love and care, while also holding a juvenile curiosity that so much wanted to know more than his mind was able to express in anything but direct touch. They had survived together.  Without each other, they would not both have survived.  It troubled him little that yetis lived without their humans, but it troubled him greater that humans lived without their yetis.  There was nothing humans could have possibly done to deserve such a punishment.  Surely, it was forgivable.