A whistle tore through the warm summer air, disturbing the tranquility of the forest around. A deer raised its head in surprise, muscles tensing as it prepared to run in case of danger. Several robins flew away from their oak perches, their song disrupted. But after the noise it was quieter once more, the only sound now quick footsteps across the padded ground. Paws drummed against the dirt, rushing over fallen trees and past countless hidden animals in the underbrush. It followed the sound of the whistle, ears perked up to trace it as far as it echoed. It stopped in front of the cause of the whistle, tail waving wildly in happiness as it nudged the caller.

The man turned to face the animal, a small smile forming on his lips. His light green eyes met the dog’s brown ones as he crouched down, stroking the creature’s snout gently with a gloved hand. “Good boy, Winston. You’re a good dog,” he said simply, his voice hardly a whisper over the forest around him. He had no wish or need to be loud. Winston could hear him just fine, and nothing else around was paying attention. He was alone out here, and it was all he wanted. He couldn’t even recall how long it had been since he first ran away to come out here. He was sixteen when he ran- Perhaps four years? Taking care of himself was not difficult.

He stood back up, pulling the gloves he’d been wearing off. He had been skinning the rabbit he killed earlier with a sharpened stone, and was getting ready to start a fire when he realized he needed Winston’s help. He said nothing, not needing to, and instead held out a stick that had been nearby. The dog smelled the object and barked in agreement, dashing off through the trees to find more so that they could make a fire. The man smiled, glad that the two of them were in such good understanding. He sat again, continuing his work next to the small circle of stones he had set up before. The tree leaves above him let in just enough to cause a misshapen pattern of sunlight to form on his back, shifting with his every movement. It was peaceful.

When the dog returned, he carried a bundle of sticks and twigs in its jaw, dropping some of the smaller ones every few steps. Winston sat next to his friend, tail sweeping leaves from the ground into the air behind him. The man smiled softly, rubbing the top of the animal’s head gently while taking the sticks from him. Winston lied down now, his job done, crossing his paws while he lay. His tongue dangled out of his mouth in contentedness. The man set the sticks inside the stone circle in a tent-like fashion, leaves going around the base for help. He had run out of the matches he took from home long ago, so he dug within his small backpack and pulled out a magnifying glass. He purposefully chose a place where the powerful sun would be within his access. Holding the glass beneath the pattern of sunlight, he pointed it at the tinder.

It was a few minutes before anything happened, but he was patient. It paid off when, on the leaves, a small flame sprouted that quickly spread to the sticks and twigs, becoming larger with each passing second. He nudged at the fire with a separate stick, making sure it was burning and stable. He nodded to himself in satisfaction, moving to grab the rabbit now. Skewering the meat on a thick stick he saved, he held it over the fire, spinning it slowly. Winston was watching the process with clear hunger in his eyes. Both of them had to live off of this, but thankfully it wasn’t too complicated. They ate in peace, away from anyone to bother them or interrupt their silent meal.

The night sky was gorgeous when it came. Being far away from civilization, the stars were bright and clear. He always picked a spot to sleep that would allow him to be right under the stars instead of leaves. He pointed out constellations to himself, rubbing Winston’s head as he slept. The man still felt the warmth of the dying fire next to him, the embers at the bottom emitting a strong heat despite the darkness. Looking at the sky, he smiled to himself. He saw the pegasus, sagittarius, vulpecula. They peeked at him from behind the tree leaves that, in response, tickled the night with help from the gentle breeze. This calmness, tranquility of the woods was the reason he decided to come out here in the first place. He could recall a time when the stars weren’t so clear. Years ago when he was still with his father.

“Get up, you lazy brat,” his father yelled at him daily, throwing his backpack at his head to wake him up. More than once he thought that the older man had broken his nose that way. But still, every day, he’d sit up in his bed, his nose twitching in annoyance, not a word spoken in response. His eyes would open to see the dark, dreary interior of his room, which inside held little more than his bed and dresser, the wood on both close to rotting from water stains. The light was a dim orange, hardly anything anymore when he could get it to turn on. The window in his room was its only saving grace- It was large and could slide open almost silently. But many a time he considered asking his father for new furniture or even just a new damn lightbulb. He suffered in silence, though, because should he say anything bad to his father, he would be cut off in some way- From food, from his friends, from anything, really. The emotional abuse he was put through was worth it to keep his health.

He had no mother. She had died during childbirth, and he believed his father to be spiteful towards him because of that. Growing up was quite lonely, and each night he would escape the stench of alcohol in his home by carefully climbing out of his bedroom window, scaling the house using the gutters and lying on the almost non-existent lawn to see the stars that would show. The populated area produced light to make them difficult to see- But still he would go, trying to memorize every constellation, each place the stars sat during the different times of year. He wanted to know everything he could.

He recalled those moments the best. The cool grass tickling his back, more comfortable than his own bed. The breeze would always ruffle his messy, dark hair, causing it to dance over his vision. His hands would always dig into the ground slightly, pull up blades of grass and fold them between his fingers while he was stargazing. He could always smell his neighbor’s flower garden, the roses and lilies waving to him in synchronization. Night was the only time he was able to escape, able to focus on something other than the dark feelings that always lingered in his home.

He opened his eyes again, noticing the sun peeking through the trees. He had fallen asleep through most of the night during his reminiscing. The man sat up now, stretching his arms over his head. The first few weeks of sleeping on the ground proved quite awful- But since then he had no choice but to adapt. As he awoke more, he saw that Winston was nowhere in sight, but he was not concerned whatsoever. Should he be worried for any reason, he need only whistle. The silence the forest currently held assured that it would be heard. He stood now, packing up the things that had been taken out of his backpack to their original place. Throwing it over his shoulder now, he walked away from the temporary campsite to find the next.

Fall started sooner than he had thought. The trees changed from their stunning shades of green to much brighter, extravagant colors, putting on a continuous show with every passing day. Animals ran circles around them, trying to find food for the quickly approaching winter. Hunting was easiest in the fall in terms of tracking, because the cracking of the hard leaves on the ground would give away the hiding places of most creatures. At the same time, the man himself had to be careful to avoid the leaves as to not alert those creatures as to his coming. Winston was a huge help during the fall, since his avoidance of the leaves was easier for him as he jumped around them to catch more food. Nights quickly got colder, and he began wearing his only jacket to sleep to stay.

A majority of Autumn involved running around and collecting everything they could find in preparation for the snow- Any meat they caught was kept in a special place near a stream. But they had to keep eating it, otherwise it would spoil. Come winter, they could freeze it and it would be easier. Berries were eaten more often by the man, as they would keep him healthy and it saved meat. When they weren’t hunting, he was making his own arrows, stocking up on them for when it would become necessary to kill deer when it got cold. Smaller animals would all be hibernating.

Autumn was always one of the most enjoyable seasons for the two of them, especially when the leaves began tumbling down. He and Winston would lie in the gigantic piles that were naturally created, and the man would dump an armful of the red, orange, and yellow leaves over the dog, laughing to himself at the animal’s shaking to get them off. The dog, in turn, would jump on the man to push him down backwards into the leaves. It was a playful game they had, reserved for only this time of year. The man smiled at the dog, rubbing his head with both hands endearingly. Winston truly was his best, and only, friend. The German shepherd had been with him since the animal’s birth, when he was hardly a foot long. The man remembered that day so clearly.

A scream had come from the house next door to his- He had quickly run over to see what was happening, wanting to help should it be bad. The woman who lived next to them was standing outside, her front door wide open. A hand was held to her chest, and her eyes were wide. When he asked what was wrong, she simply pointed inside, allowing him to go in without her. He knew her well, having grown up next to her and her dog Ally. The dog now, though, wasn’t bouncing around the moment he was in sight like she normally did. She was lying on the ground several yards away from the main doorway, stomach bulging, panting heavily, legs kicking in pain. He knew instantly what was going on and ran to the kitchen.

Moving as quickly as he was able, he grabbed as many towels as he could find, along with a large bowl of water. When he got back to Ally, he was just in time as the dog began giving birth. He felt blessed to know generally what he was doing. There were five of them total, five miniscule puppies that he would gently clean in the warm water and wrap in a towel. Five including the runt, the one that came out without a clear way to breathe due to some facial deformities. The poor creature suffocated minutes after birth. He gently wrapped that one entirely in a towel, setting it away from the others. The other four puppies, though, were quite healthy and quiet as they lay next to their mother. Being unable to use their senses quite yet, they did little more than twitch as they breathed and found out how their limbs worked.

Ally got off quite well, and was smelling her newborns, her tail wagging in pleasure. She seemed tired, but thankfully unhurt through all of this. He smiled, glad that he had been able to help. His neighbor had come inside at some point, her eyes wide. She hadn’t expected anything like that to happen. He recalled her telling him that Ally had begun to look fat to her, but neither of them had suspected anything like this. Looking at him, he could see thankfulness in her eyes. She said she could take care of them, she wasn’t too old yet, but he was free to return to visit at any time of day.

And he did. Almost every day he would rush over to see how the puppies were doing as soon as he was home from school. He helped feed them, first with a bottle and then with their hard food. He helped keep them clean and made sure they wouldn’t get hurt. It got him away from home and it made him happier than anything else. One of the puppies was almost clingy towards him- It would follow him around the house everywhere, lick his hands when he was trying to be fed, and always curled up on his lap whenever he was sitting. “His name is Winston,” the old lady told him. “After one of my favorite book characters.”

He smiled gently to himself, the leaves around him feel much like a bed. Those days were nice, those days he could get away for hours at a time. Still, he liked his days out in the woods much better, where he was free to live as he pleased. Winston squirmed next to him now, standing up and shoving his face into the man’s neck. He laughed, rubbing the dog’s back as it lie down on him. They stayed warm with each other, man and dog. The term ‘man’s best friend’ was absolutely true. He believed it with all of his being.

Far too soon, the first few flakes of snow fell down between the thin, bare branches of the trees. It didn’t stick the first few small snowfalls, and during those times the man loved to tilt his head back and catch snowflakes on his tongue. They always froze his tongue in a pleasurable, childish feeling he held within him. The sky became a constant shade of gray, but it was not always dark. He would spend hours simply looking at the sky and watching those single flakes of snow dance their way to the warmer earth, where they would melt away the moment they touched the ground. It was a peaceful, beautiful time, the transition between fall and winter. But he knew that it would not last long. So he kept at work as much as he could.

He was right with his assumptions. Hardly two weeks after the first snowfall, the ground was covered in a blanket of white, and it wouldn’t go away for months to come now. He began wearing his jacket all day and night, and his gloves normally only worn when handling dead animals were on constantly. Winston would hop through the snow, barking happily at the cold flakes. He loved it, and he’d rub his snout into the snow playfully. It was a game to the dog, one that would last for a long time. The man was happy to see him having so much fun. At the same time, though, he could not bring himself to relax as much as he wished.

The past winter had nearly caused the death of both of them, through frostbite and lack of food. He remembered seeing Winston shivering in the small shelter they found, his ribs getting more prominent. The man himself had trouble feeling his hands and feet most days and his stomach had pangs of hunger almost constantly, making hunting even harder with a lack of focus. How they made it through that he wasn’t even positive. It became warm just in time, he supposed. Now, even though they had prepared for at least two months, he had a deep feeling of ominous premonition within him.

Since winter was unforgiving out there, they had to find a place where they needn’t move around, especially to keep their food frozen and fresh in a place they could easily access it. There was a small cave right nearby the stream they used for water. Winston had found the cave, and the man was glad for it. He buried their food right outside in the snow and created a small fire pit right past the entrance of the cave. The fire that he started there he’d have to keep going for as long as possible, because the lack of sunlight would make it difficult to start it again.

When the first true snowfall happened, they were safe. The fire maintained its strength through it, melting most of the snow around it and giving them a path to leave when they needed it. Winston loved lying near the fire, keeping his nose and paws warm as his tail hit the hard ground in pleasure. The man smiled, the ominous feeling in him weakening. He was feeling better about this now, now that they had somewhere safe to be, now that they were protected by this cave. He looked over at the dog next to him- Fast asleep he was. The man rubbed his hand along Winston’s back before lying down himself, his bag used as a pillow. Winter would be bearable, as long as he had his best friend there with him. With the warmth of the fire contrasting the cold air, he was asleep quickly.

He was awoken by the loudest noise of his life- A hideous, threatening roar, coming from what could not have been more than five feet from him.

His eyes shot open. The fire in front of him was still burning embers, but that was not important. Behind him, Winston was barking, the noise echoing through the cave and ringing in the man’s ears, causing him to wince. When he first looked back, he could see nothing and was incredibly confused. But as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he was met with black eyes looking back at him- Eyes of a very angry, very large bear.

He got up as quickly as he could, disoriented from only just waking up. Winston stood between him and the bear, the fur on his back sticking up, his sharp teeth bared in fury and protection. The animal was not about to let his best friend get hurt by this monster. The bear must have been hibernating in the same cave as them. The man mentally smacked himself for that. How could he have been dumb enough to let that happen? They both had to get away before this bear tore them apart.

“Winston!” The man called out as loud as he could, trying to get the growling dog’s attention. His ears perked up, but no more, not willing to take his attention off of the bear. “Go. Now!” he ordered loudly, trying to get the dog to run. His hand went to his side, pulling the knife from it. He would handle this the best he could, because he needed the dog to stay safe. Winston’s ears sunk at the anger in the man’s voice, but he refused to listen to his friend. Not this time. Instead of regarding those words, Winston bent his legs and leapt at the bear, snarling all the while.

The man yelled at the dog to stop, to run, to get away, but Winston wasn’t going to give in. As his teeth sunk into the bear’s arm, the larger animal smacked him hard, sending him flying and throwing him against the wall. Despite the pain Winston felt from the hard rock hitting him, the dog wouldn’t give up. He jumped again at the much larger creature, sinking his teeth deep into the bear’s arm, tugging on it as hard as he could. He could taste blood. The bear roared in pain, storming out of the cave now and dragging the dog along with him. Winston wouldn’t let go of the bear’s arm, and as soon as they were out of the cave, he finally let go, going instead to bite at the bear’s throat. His teeth went deep, and the man watched as bright red splattered across the once-clean snow.

The man himself was petrified, the knife in his hand hurting his knuckles with how hard he was gripping it. But he was frozen in place, his knees shaking. He was terrified. Winston had gotten hurt once already, and he knew that damn bear was capable of more. But the blood of the bear was spilling faster than he had expected. Winston must have struck an artery with his canines. Finally, the man snapped out of his daze of fear, taking a step towards the pair in the snow. Only one step was taken, though. Nothing could have prepared him for what happened, and it was much quicker than he could react.

All he saw was Winston flying through the air, landing hard in a thick pile of snow several yards away, body flopping like a ragdoll. He didn’t get up. The man couldn’t see what had happened, but he knew he had to stop this bear before both of them were killed. It was still bleeding drastically, and he could see it slowing down due to the blood loss. Its roars were much more exhausted. The man braced himself, grinding his teeth and narrowing his eyes. As soon as he breathed, he sprinted at the large creature, holding the knife painfully tightly. Once he approached it, he drove the blade deep into the bear’s throat, trying to worsen the wound caused by Winston. The bear roared in his face, and the man could feel his heart almost halt at the sight of those teeth inches away from him. The creature struck him in the stomach, and he could tell that its powerful claws were leaving slashes through his jacket.

But moments after the creature clawed at him, the man could see the glint of fury in its eyes disappear and become empty and dark. Blood spewed out faster, and it covered what was left of his jacket. The man backed away, leaving his knife in the bear’s throat. It almost seemed to attempt to crawl towards him before its legs gave out beneath it. Its large body collapsed to the ground and ceased all movement, even the rise and fall of his breath.

The man stepped back, his breath sharp and quick. The cold made it painful to breathe. His coat had been brutally slashed, and it was held together by threads. The injuries had just missed him, though. But he wasn’t focused on himself. His eyes looked across the snow, instead focusing on where it was imprinted by the body of his friend. He sprinted as quickly as he could to Winston. The dog hadn’t gotten up since he was flung.

The snow all around where he lie was becoming a dark red. The man shook his head, not willing to believe it, not yet. He dropped to his knees, the snow burning them. He pulled Winston into his lap, taking note of the lack of any movement and the clear revelation of what had happened. Tears formed in his eyes and he looked over his friend- There were four very large, deep claw marks in his stomach. The blood seemed endless, but the man did not leave. He attempted to hold his hands over the wound, block it with his jacket by removing it from himself and holding it over the cuts. But there was no way to stop the inevitable death now. Tears streaked down the man’s face, leaving a thin, shining trail down his cheeks, but he spoke nothing. There were no words he could say to bring him back. Winston would not respond to anything, already lost. The man shut his eyes, recalling that day that changed everything.

“Logan, I need you to take care of him,” his neighbor told him, her old eyes still bright despite her life coming to an end. The oxygen tank keeping her breathing was next to him, and watching her talk past that caused him pain. The way she carried her words- On breathless, short phrases that seemed to exhaust her- made him want to start sobbing in front of her. “All of them are in safe homes now- But this one wouldn’t go to anyone else.” He looked at the small dog in his trembling arms, fast asleep against his chest. “I’m not going to make it through the night. But promise me you’ll always take care of him.”

Logan looked up at her once more, light tears in his eyes. Her young eyes shone on her old face- She was dying. Without him knowing, she had taken Ally and all of the other young dogs to different owners, to keep them safe. She must have done it while he was at school, with the help of her sons who lived close by. His heart felt emptier knowing he wouldn’t see them again. But he couldn’t be mad at her- There was no way he would be able to take all of them, no matter how much he may have wished it possible. “Of course I will,” he spoke softly, a soft sobbing in his voice being barely stifled. It wavered, but the dam held back the flood. She smiled, her eyes shutting. He knew now that she would say no more, and so he made sure the covers were up around her and took his leave.

Winston stirred in his arms when he entered his own home next door. The small dog’s big brown eyes gazed up at him, tail beginning to wag jovially. Logan saw the innocent excitement in the young creature’s eyes. If only he knew that he’d never see his family again. He barked softly, body squirming in joy, and Logan shushed him instantly, looking around for his dad. Thankfully, the disturbance hadn’t seemed to alert the older man. Logan ran up to his room, making sure Winston was quiet the whole time. Tears rolled gently off of his cheeks onto the dog, and Winston licked his hand in response, not as excited anymore. He knew something was wrong now.

“We’re leaving, Winston.” He set the dog down on his bed, emptying his backpack on the ground. Books and pencils fell out onto the rug, making soft thuds barely audible. They were of no use to him anymore. “I’m not staying here any longer.” He couldn’t stand to be there longer. Every passing second he felt more and more isolated from his life. And now that Winston was the only dog left, he had to get away. There was absolutely no chance that his father would permit him to keep the dog- So he was leaving. Winston would come with him and they would live in harmony together, without the dangers of others to get in their way.

Going through the house as quickly as he could while still staying deadly silent, he got matches, a flashlight, a knife… Everything that seemed necessary to surviving as long as he could. He knew eventually he would have to make his own materials. He grabbed his magnifying glass, normally used to observe bugs up close, from his dresser, packing it away with the rest. He packed an extra set of clothes and a few cans of food. Anything that could fit into his bag without becoming too heavy. When he was done, he stood up, wrapping around himself the largest jacket in the house, one that had belonged to his grandfather. Taking a deep breath, Logan looked at the dog that had been waiting patiently on his bed, sensing his anxiety. Logan lifted Winston into his arms, holding the small dog close to his chest.

“Let’s go. It’ll be just you and me from now on, ok?”

Deep, painful sobs ripped through Logan’s chest as he clutched his dead best friend to him. The dam broke and all the tears came rushing out. The tears he had held in his entire life. The tears he’d held back while his father would insult him, the tears he’d held back when his neighbor had died. The tears for his best friend. Winston was gone, murdered from trying to protect him. The man’s screams of agony were the only noise for miles, all else muffled by the snow. Not a creature dared disturb them. Tears dripped from his cheeks rapidly, landing on the dog’s wounds. He uselessly hoped that they would somehow heal him and bring him back, like some kind of fairy tail. But he wasn’t a child- He knew it was fruitless.

He couldn’t tell how long he was there. Soon it was dark, the fire behind him having died. The deadly silence only made his cries echo back to him louder. He lost track of time when the sun rose once more, making the snow on the ground sparkle around them. He didn’t notice. It began snowing around them, light snowflakes landing on him and slowly covering his sorrow. But still he didn’t move. He didn’t plan to. Even when his face began to lose feeling due to the cold, he didn’t move. Even when his mind told him that hypothermia was setting in, he didn’t move. Even when his mind begged for him to take his jacket back, to put it back on, he didn’t move. He didn’t dare think of letting his best, his only friend to die alone.

The cold wind began to sing him a song, a song of sadness and emptiness. But at the same time, it was a song of passing. A beautiful, haunting tune that told him to just close his eyes, just breathe out and let him be still. Logan listened to the symphony for some time, his fingers burning dreadfully in the cold. But soon he listened, letting the wind sing him a lullaby. The wind took away his pain, and replaced it instead with pure numbness. He was glad for this. It was no longer agony.

He lay still as the river, frozen, his face turning blue and his body stiffening. But his eyes were shut and he couldn’t see anymore. He couldn’t see the snow- Instead, he saw a wonderland of pink trees and sunlight. It stretched on for miles and miles in every direction, the vivid green grass illuminated by the warming sun. Logan could smell cherry blossoms, giving away what the trees were. Winston sat under one of them away from him, petals of the cherry blossoms in a circle around him. He barked for Logan, the sound almost pleading with him to follow. Logan complied. With every step closer, Winston was glowing, brighter and brighter.

Logan chased the light, the noise, following his best friend away from the unforgiving winter.