Veila’s mother forced another pack into her arms.

“Mama,” Veila pleaded. “I…”

“You wanna do man things,” her mother replied hurriedly. “Here’s your chance.”

“But I don’t know where to go,” Veila shot back. “You didn’t tell me where to go.”

“No,” the old woman snapped. “I told ya to talka Keeba. He’s the only one knows where Wizard lives.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me before?” Veila asked.

“Dammit, girl! Just get ready!” her mother yelled.

Veila was encumbered by almost all of her father’s furs. The stiff, prickly pelts were joined with coarse and rudimentary stitches that scratched her neck.

“Mama, no!” Veila protested as she watched her mother stuff an inordinate amount of rations into another pack.

“Stop your whinin’!” the old woman responded. “You’ll be needin’ mor’an that! You’ll have to hunt and find. Me ‘n Adum’ll get by just fine. Brunt’ll be on tea and scraps till you return.”

Adum sulked in the corner while his sister stood, uncharacteristically forlorn, and received their mother’s harried deposits.

“That’s all of it,” their mother said, ushering Veila toward the door. “Make haste.”

Veila turned and searched her mother’s face, extending her arms expectantly for a hug.

“Go!” her mother snapped and turned her back around with a push.

Veila stumbled out into the cold. Her packs were heavy, but she felt more guarded to the wind than she could ever remember. She stood for a moment and gathered herself. The hot and hollow expanse of her mother’s rejection moved from her stomach to her chest where it concentrated into an angry resolve. She pursed her lips and hiked the packs up on her shoulder. Away to her left was the large gathering tent. The other homes in the village were just beyond. Keeba’s would be closest.

She moved as quickly as she could to the door of the tent, clapping the two cups that hung near the door. Their tone was sharp but light. It cut through the cold air and solicited a quick response.

“Come in then,” came a gruff response from inside.

Veila had only been in this home once before and struggled to manipulate the door in a timely manner. It was suddenly ripped from her hands.

“I said…,” Old Keeba began to bark until he saw who it was. He looked confusedly at Veila’s attire and turned back into his home.

“I need your help,” Veila blurted as she followed in behind him.

“Shut the door,” he commanded flatly, and she complied.

“Keeba,” Veila began before being cut off.

“You wantin’ to follow us?” Keeba asked. It was an honest question – not the kind constant mockery Veila faced from the others. “You’d leave Brunt and Shiya and little Adum behind? Doesn’t seem like the Veila I know.”

“I need to find Wizard,” Veila stated.

“Wizard?” Keeba repeated, turning quickly to meet her eyes. “Then you mean to try and heal ol’ Brunt?”

“Mama says you know where he lives,” Veila continued. “Please, Keeba. Please help me.”

He did not respond but took a deep breath in and then blew it out of his nose. His yellowing white whiskers shuddered against his dark brown skin.

“Look around,” he said, indicating the mess of materials Veila now saw scattered around his tent house. “I’m trying to pull up for the big move. I can’t be takin’ you to see some ancient healer.”

“You won’t,” Veila insisted. “Just tell me how. I can do it myself. I will do it myself.”

Keeba walked slowly to Veila and looked down at her. His eyes, yellowed like his beard, bore through Veila’s matching fiery gaze. He closed them and slowly shook his head.

“Let me find the map,” he said quietly.

***

As Veila trudged through an errant snowbank, she adjusted her pack yet again. The straps were already starting to create sore spots on her shoulder. She ignored her slowly numbing fingers and toes. Her face was almost sweating from the double layers her mother had applied, but her bandaged hands were covered in too much fur and her fingers were not nimble enough to adjust her headwrap.

Keeba stood in the open door of his tent and watched the fierce and determined girl march toward the horizon. He had watched her defy the others since the day she took her first step. He really wanted her to succeed but was very certain she wouldn’t last till the next sun.

***

Veila walked through the day and into night. The adrenaline and expectation that she would find this healer drove her forward. Only twice in her youth had her tribe made the big move, and she only remembered the last. She had been confined in and around that dank and tattered hovel for almost all of her active memory. She had anticipated feeling afraid and uncertain of the journey before her, but the prospect of anything other than her mother and Adum’s bickering was too enticing.

After traveling several leagues, her eyes became heavy and she found a large stony outcropping behind which she could hunker down. It was flanked in a wide arc by two snow drifts and she bed down at their nexus. She collected a few handfuls of dried brush and packed them around one of the tallow-soaked rags her mother had given her. With it were a pair of spark rocks. She banged them together, her freezing hands cramping in their tightly gripped position. She fell back in relief when the fatty cloth started to smolder then burn. In her pack, she found several large pieces of firewood, and she propped the smallest against the flaming tinder. As she curled up and watched the crackling embers, something large and dark moved beyond the flames.

Though Veila had never been allowed to venture out with the hunting parties, her father had relayed almost all of his field knowledge to the bright young girl. The first of which was to never panic and move when an animal drew near.

“If it’s a beasty,” Brunt had said, “then you don’ want it knowin’ you seen it right away. And if its good eatin’, you wanna be the one doin’ the sneakin’.”

Veila resisted the urge to lift her head and instead slowed her breathing. The shadowy mass seemed to stretch wide – too wide – to be a single creature, but Brunt had taught her that pack animals spread out. She used a stick laying just by her hand to gingerly and discreetly prod the portion of embers and flame that were obstructing her vision. Almost as soon as she did, the moon also moved out from behind its thickened veil and a sprawling herd of musk oxen were revealed. Veila fought every urge to gasp. It was neither fear nor surprise, but absolute awestricken wonder at the unexpected majesty. The creatures stood shoulder to shoulder, wearing their wind pressed masks of snow and ice like armor. Their husky breaths puffed out as misty clouds into the cold dry air as they watched the girl and her fire with their own curiosity. Veila watched the herd, fascinated, for a very long time until she could no longer fight to keep her heavy eyes open.

Matt Hebert is an engineer and self-published author. His dopamine-fueled creative pursuits have spanned from chicken keeping, sand sculpture, acting, and public speaking, but writing is nearest and dearest to his heart. He lives in Bellevue with his wife and two daughters. You can find him on Instagram at @jerkofalltradeshebert or email him at matt.hebert.books@gmail.com