We've been traveling for a few days now without running out of food, those wolves were the best thing we had eaten in days and we did not waste a single part of it.
That's when I began to aid my parents in gathering food, mom showed me what plants we could eat as there was little to no fruits left and she taught me what mushrooms could be eaten and should I find a type of mushroom that she didn't tell me about I must not touch or take it in any way, no matter how hungry I was.
Afterwards father took me with him to teach me how to get back to the camp no matter how far I was. He told me that for now I should stick close to the river and whenever I wanted to go back, all I had to do was turn back.
Eventually after another week of foraging with my mom, they told me I could forage on my own as it would help us gather more food. I was proud of myself that day because I would no longer be a burden for my kin, I was able to carry my weight and earn my meals. But even if we were all working together to gather food, when the wolf meat ran out we were starving once more, counting the days until we will have our next meal.
Therefore in two days' time of rowing and hunger that got into our bones, savagely taking bites off of our sanity, I found a small shack one mile from our camp, it was a simple contraption - made with a white wood that blended with the snow and hid it from sight, and it was perfect for us.
There were no windows and one small door that was held to the house with ropes, there were signs of a garden and one big oak behind the building. The roof of the shack was made out of hay, doted here and there with some holes and old bird homes but that should prove no problem for us because a home just like this was all we ever needed and even if there was no door or roof we would still manage something.
When I told them what I found their faces lightened up, even dad was thrilled, I've never seen him so inpatient for a very long time. We managed somehow to get the boat off the water and put it next to a tree so that it was hard to find should anyone find it and in such a way that we could easily find it.
It was one hour after sunset when we arrived there. The door, as I was saying, was held in place with ropes as there were no hinges. The door was missing a few planks and when we took it off, a smell of old wood and timber came out of the house and there was a certain smell of smoke in the air when we entered.
It was nothing special inside just a small fireplace, a table for two and two small beds put side by side closely to the fire.
It gave the place a rural feeling to it, but compared to the boat it was a cozy three star hotel with restaurant and a pool. The floor was clean and there was no sign that an animal lived here and there were no rats. Most importantly there was no snow, no wind and soon it will be warmer and we could sleep the same like we used to before.
The next few weeks were spent fixing the small house: putting some hinges on the door, repairing the roof, plugging holes in the wall, cleaning the chimney when one day I asked dad why our steps sounded different when I stepped next to the door.
Dad had a moment of inspiration and found a hidden crack that lifted a big chunk of the wooden floor. We couldn't see anything but the stairs that led down to the basement. My father made a torch and went inside. A sudden scream startled us as dad quickly shouted at us to come down quickly...
...my heart started pounding wildly with joy as soon as I gazed upon what we had found, shelves long as the eye can see filled the basement. They too were filled with smoked pork and chicken, big rolls of cheese left to mature over the winter, huge sacks of rice, flour and wheat.
In that moment we all realized that our pain and tears were finally rewarded and all we had to do now was last the winter and then we would happily live our lives here in the same peace we enjoyed for years in our home. Dad immediately rationed the food so that we could eat from it for years, which really didn't satisfied our hunger but the idea was to survive.
While we were enjoying breakfast, lunch and supper ,the world outside shed its white fur as winter passed and we were welcomed with the songs of birds and the wound of falling drops of water from the gallant trees that sat nearby .
As I struggled to open my eyes I heard noises coming in from the door and by the moment I turned my eyes towards the door I saw that a little squirrel squeezed through the small place between the door and the floor and quickly sneaked below our beds. It was the first time in months when I saw something lively that didn't want to kill us or we kill them, it was innocent and it was pure.
I quickly got out of bed and at the exact moment I peeked below I saw the little squirrel stuffing herself with some nuts she hid in a crack in the wood. Afterwards she heard me getting lower to the ground and turned to see what she heard; she had some big brown eyes and stopped any movement whatsoever. You could see that she had red fur around her neck in form of a ring and black fur in rest with white fur at her belly.
She quietly moved on her 4 legs and started to get closer to me, she was curious. She went closer and closer with her small paws and big eyes. Her ears lay down as she nearly reached me and her nose started to smell the air around me. She got near me and put her paw on. It then curiously smelled my nose and without hesitation bit it a moment's notice as if she was making fun of my big nose.
The moment she bit me I thrashed my head upwards and hit the bed above and woke my parents up. My dad quickly raised his face from the pillow and looked up and saw the squirrel run out of the shack and me slowly getting up from under the bed with my red nose.
My mother got close to me and rubbed the little drop of blood from my nose. She happily said:
'You had your first adventure our little hero, but all hero must do one thing before getting breakfast and that that is to wash their face, so go wash yourself young sir'.
I immediately got out of bed and walked proudly outside when as I was making my way towards the water basket something shining in the big oak and when I focused more on what it was I saw a mix of white and brown feathers in the form of a tear shape with some pointy ears and only then I noticed the big towering eyes that stared at me the whole time.
It was an owl, the king of the sky watched down upon me, noticing my every move. He then strongly let out and opened her big wings and took a leap in the air and flew right above our house. We were newcomers in their forest and they all were baffled by our presence as they took us in their circle of life.
Exactly two weeks from that day, we were having lunch speaking about if we should try to make some pots from clay and bake ourselves some bread in the oven when we heard the sound of a horse slowly moving approaching. Dad made a sign to go to the basement.
I heard a deep towering voice saying 'Stay here' in a language similar to German but different and I feared the worst- that our enemies caught up to us. We heard him loading up a gun and silently making his way to the door and opened it fast. All we heard back then was his footsteps as he went to the table. That's when we realized we left the food on the table.
We heard him turning back and saying
'Come out peacefully and nothing bad will happen. There is no point in hiding so get out of there.'
In that moment we slowly made our way up the stairs. I myself was sweating and felt my heart pound so hard that I could sense it all the way down to my toes and I could feel the air getting heavier with each step we took and I just how much my parents feared that our stay here will come to an end.
My father opened the hatch and then it's when my breathing stopped from the anxiety and I could feel tears gathering in my eyes.
I grabbed my mom with both arms and hid my face inside her dress. My dad slowly rose from the hole in the floor with arms in the air and we could see his feet trembling as he shouted:
'we want you no harm, please don't hurt us, we will leave at once'. In that moment I heard the man unloading his gun and putting it near his right foot. With a surprised tone he said:
'Germans?! What are you doing all the way here? Please come sit at the table and eat while I go fetch my daughter and tell her it is safe.'
My dad humbly joined his hands and bowed slowly adding:
'We are grateful to your hospitality'.
My dad said that it was safe to come out and we went quietly to sit at the table. The relief we all felt back then can tell you how much faith we have lost in other people and actually meeting someone that meant us no harm and actually wanted to help us was a great lesson for me that there are still people who are worth fighting for.
Even though that big man let us into his home , the moments when he was not here and we were sitting at the table felt like we were threading on unknown ground.
My parents kept nodding at each other about something but from what I remember mom kept making signs to dad that we should not do that, and dad gave me the impression that he taught there was no other way.
I remember dad reaching for his knife when mom grabbed his hand and in an instant dad dropped it where it was. Mom then slapped him clean and hard, she never hit me like that and I think dad also, but the look in her eyes was that of clear disappointment.
She never imagined dad could even conceive doing something like that and even if he did, he wouldn't have done it in this situation.
As my parents stood silent by my side at the table, the air was getting thinner from the pressure that my parents emanated; I've never seen them act like that. I finally realized what a confrontation happened just before my eyes.
They are sides of the same coin, one cannot exist without the other as both are needed for success, and one must possess both reason and compassion for there is no good and evil in the world only shades of grey defined by our vision of the things that happen around us.
Both are involved in our daily lives and both are influenced by the way we think and what others think. As a reasonable choice can become brutally calculated and too much compassion will be seen as blindness and naivety.
Me at that time could not realize what went on right in front of my eyes and just saw it as a quarrel that saddened me. But war, war changes people and we are the pawns that conflict moves left and right, destroys lives and families and rips apart husbands from their wives, teenagers from their homes, countries from their peace and prosperity.
I found a way to rid the world of all that but there is a time for acting and a time for patience and now it will be meaningless if I told you anything about this.
Getting back at the situation I remember grabbing my mom's hand with my right and my dad's with my left and pulling them hard enough to put their hands one on top of each other on the table saying 'Fighting is bad'.
In that moment their faces lit up and forgot everything about any conversation they ever had two seconds ago and dad kneeled besides my chair and rested his hands on my shoulders, letting me feel the weight of his arms
My father's presence was always that of superiority but it was never a harsh one or suppressive in any way, it was always a proud presence and with a pure heart and soul.
Even though we were nobles we embraced a modest life as all my parents wanted was peace in their little corner of the world. Dad said to me in that moment
'There truly is wisdom in a child's words'
He then moved his hands downwards on my shoulders and squeezed me tightly and embraced me .His hands were big coming through my armpits and held all of my body in his arms while his had rested on my right shoulder.
I felt the love of my father and light that he gave me that day. Mom followed and her bright green eyes gazed upon me as she embraced me with the grace of a queen and I could feel the warmth in his eyes.
She always gave that off, a star shining brightly in our house and dancing gallantly all over the house doing the main chores a mom would do at that time, but she never gave off anything less than a smile and it was never a fake one, it was embedded in her way of being.
She is not German but French and while she can let out a girly like reactions and being very mannered and good willing, at times she is the Wolf Queen of the house as her anger always scarred both me and my dad.
She comes from nobility too, she and dad were betrothed for an alliance when they were just kids but grew up together in a neutral territory in Sicily where they spent their childhood and adolescence at a monastery.
Her family crest is three lilies surrounded by ring of vines on a blue and yellow background while my father's and our family's is a black griffon on top of a hammer on yellow background.
I don't know much about the history of the two families just that our relatives were kings and emperors and we were first cousins with them, that's why our family always enjoyed solitude whenever they wanted.
While we enjoyed our family moment we heard the door open and we all turned to see our hosts. That man was probably 2 meters tall and wore a big wild beard and had curly red hair up to his shoulder and wore a cowboy hat.
His nose and face showed great signs of work and exposure to both heat and cold as the wrinkles at his eyes and mouth looked like scars. But he did have one scar straight across his hand that looked as an animal tore right through his flesh.
He had big broad shoulders and a thick neck, his arms looked just as tough and strong, he was built like a giant from the stories I used to read, but he also had a big belly also. His towering figure barely fits in the shack as he occupied the whole door and his hands were so wide that my head could easily fit in them.
He wore old trousers with holes fixed with pieces of fabric of different color while he wore a big pair of mountain boots that reached two inches above his ankle. He put his hands in his pockets, I looked in awe as his hands were incredibly big and I wonder how they could fit in there and the moment he joined eyes with me I could feel my breath stop and my heart wanting to jump out of my throat as the thought that he could have ended all three of our lives so easily even if he didn't have a gun.
The atmosphere was filled with tension as we were wondering whether our stay would be welcome or if we should pack up and go. While I was watching that giant of a man sundering our minds with his stature and presence, my parents looked up to him and rose up to look at him eye to eye.
At the same time my father wanted to start speaking the giant said calmly with his deep voice:
'I thank you for looking after my lodge for the winter, I've never seen it so clean, and by the looks of it my winter stores are not emptied at all which means you rationed your daily meal so you could survive. I humbly thank you '
As he finishes his words, he gratefully bows his head and lift it up to continue what he has to say:
'I'm sorry for not revealing my name sooner. My name is Hathor Skelige; I'm a hunter in these parts and have lived here with my family for as long as I can remember. I've made a habit of leaving in the winter and going to our family home in Vienna where my sister lives. I always take a portion of the years hunts to the city this period to sell and gift my sister so that our stay is not such a burden. Anyways this young lady that keeps hiding behind my foot is my daughter Hylda. Hylda please come and say hi to our guests.'
The presence of Hathor was so overwhelming that everyone failed to notice her shy daughter that hid behind his leg. Her one head above his knee in height and thin as a broomstick but had shining curly red hair that covered half of her face and the other side showing her tinny ears.
She had small freckles across her nose from one cheek to the other like a little line tattoo and she had a blue right eye and green left eye with one birth mark near her lower lip.
She wore a blue dress with blue dots on it while her shoes were like those of a dancer. She was really shy and looked back worried to his father after she met eye to eye with me and grappled his father's foot and shoved her face there.
Hathor slowly caressed her small fox-like head and gave a small giggle while taking her up in his arms:
'...little Freya, you have to have courage ,but you need bigger courage to face your friends than your foes' said the gentle giant as he kissed her forehead.
She then slowly turned her head and body in his father's arms while covering her face and swiftly said a quick 'Good Afternoon' and no sooner than she turned towards us she turned back around to her father.
Hathor put her down and turned his attention towards us as he slowly moved his big oak body to the bed to sit down, her daughter surprised moved closer to her father and sat next to him whilst keeping her eyes on me with caution.
We sat down to so we could talk and decide what should be done with us. My father opened with the phrase:
'I know we are intruders into your lands and with respect and humble gratitude thank you for not ending our lives on sight, we know how hard is to find real good and honest folk in these times as we have had our fill of treachery and madness in the past week.
If you want us to leave, we will leave immediately without question but I with shame implore you to give us some food for the road as we have a home no more and braved the cold winter and suffered great at her wrath.
So please do as you wish with us, we are at your humble mercy...'