Coldsnap: The Billionaire Alpha's Fated Pregnant Princess (GL)-Chapter 384 - Old Instincts, Cold Meat

The compound bow felt right in my hands, as it usually did. A weight and balance that had grown familiar as I continued my archery practice even in this new confined space in the LTER compound.

Today, I’d checked the string tension twice. Examined each fixed broadhead-tipped arrow for flaws I knew wouldn’t be there, since I had a separate set for practice.

Anything to delay the moment. Where I had to actually say what I intended to... out loud.

"I’m going hunting. You’re to stay with my son."

Bright orange glows looked up from where she sat bundled in blankets, my son sleeping peacefully in the basket resting on her lap. Kyrie held an expression that shifted through grave concern, a slight surprise, and finally something that looked almost like pride.

> Trust is... a word for it. A word I won’t say. <

"You need protein for recovery. I also need some. It’s been too long since I had fresh, real meat... not pre-cooked rations.

The gnawing craving had been building for days. Supplements weren’t giving me something... or perhaps just that I needed the mental break from mothering.

And weirdly, I feel offended when I think that of myself. Almost the same way I get when others claim that I am not beautiful - like it is an impossibility.

Who knew my physical vanity would track over to motherhood in this way. That I would inordinately believe in myself that I am trying and not doing bad, not feeling like giving up.

"I’ve barely left his side for these weeks. But you’re... here. You can handle this..."

The words came out more certain than I felt. My fingers twitched toward the basket where I’d kept him safe, warm, mine for all this time. Vrika also whined softly in my mindscape, torn between sharing the hunting instinct and the same protective anxiety.

Perhaps not the *same*. More like an aunt or uncle. Connected, but with a level of separation?

"Citra. Are you sure?"

My hand clenched at her searching question and I raised my eyes back to hers. I nodded and turned. Forcing my voice to be steady.

"Yes. If possible, I’m going to finish what you started."

Kyrie’s hand moved unconsciously to her thigh, where some angry pink scars remained. When her wolf spirit was returning to its duties, it hadn’t finished closing her flank before she changed that morning. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Now, it seems like she doesn’t intend to let it be fixed completely. The way I’ve seen her stroke the marking like it was a sign of something to be remembered, but not something she was ashamed of.

> I hate it. <

Clamping the quiver on the bow, I hit the door while thinking of finding a blood trail under the snow. If it was wounded back, it would not have gotten far. My fingers stopped short of slamming the door closed behind me when I heard her speak.

"Be careful. And come back."

"...I will."

⧖ ☾ ❄ ☽ ⧖

The cold out here in the weeks of apocalyptic freeze was... nothing for me. A sense of information only, thanks to Nurturer’s Tolerance.

Endless white on the ground, the skeletal dark of trees stripped of leaves by frost and wind, a desert of snow that I moved through in hybrid form. I’d tried to balance and run as a human, but after the fourth hole I sunk into thanks to the smaller feet...

Regardless, with my sense open I could tell just how much the world had gone quiet in these weeks. Deep in whatever shelter they could find, prey was scarce. Some had seemed to come out to explore.

Some lay dead in the snow from that, not finding prey, plants, or water. Bloodless deaths from severe hunger and dehydration. The freeze left them where they could no longer move.

Deer curled against the base of trees. Birds simply fallen down from branches or in mid flight as they finally gave out. Lumps in the snow.

A full cold larder, the size of the whole forest.

> Such a terrible tragedy, but I can’t help but see the opportunity. <

Other creatures had felt the same. I passed an elk that seemed to have been consumed by a pack of coyotes based on the smell of scat. And could hear ravens flocking to a different exposed meal.

Lucky predators who managed to find enough water somehow, I assume. Because it takes staying hydrated to eat meat. Especially frozen, because it takes so long to chew through.

But their scavenging numbers were limited... and the ’frozen food aisle’ had overstocked their shelves. I would have to come back to shop.

One of us will, anyway. While the other remains somewhere to place it safe from competitors.

The unique trait of the | Parental Stash | would come in handy for that. Exploring and storing for one, taking out and organizing for the other. The only thing left to test is distance... but the system tracking and everything else worked from far away.

So I expect the new sharing of what one another Stashes would also be fine. And making a spiral around the city... or even just focusing on the most likely areas for deer and elk to be found?

All this food would be a rather dark blessing. Though also very limited when we share it.

⧖ ☾ ❄ ☽ ⧖

The blood trail eventually appeared near where I’d calculated. Based on her delirious memory of the directions she took before collapsing at my door. I followed it until the scent of it changed to that of something other than my... than the white wolf.

A line of pink stains had crept up, half-buried under fresher snowfall and leading away from the direction Kyrie would have traveled. I crouched, scraping down with one clawed finger to find the rusty little gems of spilled blood that sunk down and froze.

Vrika’s hunting instincts - and *my own* - told me I was on the right path. Tracking, stalking, the patient work of the hunt... in my old fox body, I’d done this thousands of times. Usually for much smaller prey.

> It’s strange, feeling like running is not the better thing to do for once. It’s a bear! <

But... it was a wounded animal, too. This made it more dangerous but also more predictable in certain ways. The trail was meandering at first to put distance between itself and the threat, then grew a bit erratic as pain must have made its pathing sloppy.

I found a spot where it had collapsed once, to take a rest. A depression in the snow next to a group of trees. It had rested here, maybe tried to clean its wounds until they froze closed.

Then it pushed on without dripping anymore.

> Tough creature. Kyrie must have hit it hard for it to be bleeding this much in one spot. <

However, the problem becomes finding out *where* it went. In winter like this, most everything smells like numbing snow. The heat needed to spread off body oils is subdued.

And when it does, it goes straight up and floats higher than normal. Which is why those flying ravens will have such a good time of it, but I’ll have to use my head and luck.

I move a bit away and start stomping on the snow where it looks like it could have moved through. Eventually, I do get lucky and release the oddly fresh scent of bear when I strike where it once walked.

My clawed hand tightened on the bow. I’d already come this far. But a three hour window to get back and feed my son is tight...