CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER ONE

     Simon opened the car door, slamming it shut behind him and jumping down onto his uncle’s driveway.
    “Have a good week at your uncle’s!” his mother called from behind him before driving away down the cracked, asphalt road.
     Simon took a deep breath, relishing the frosty, foresty smell of fall. Leaves crackled under his feet as he walked up the driveway to his uncle’s house.
    “Simon!” His uncle exclaimed as he went down the path to meet him, “Nice to see you again! My, how you’ve grown.”
    “Uncle Quill!” Simon said in delight.
    The man’s hair was grizzled and grey, with a short, bristly beard and a long scar running across one side of his long, pointed, pale face.
    “So, how have you been?” Quill asked, ruffling Simon’s short, black hair.
    “Good!” Simon said, grinning as they walked into Quill’s old, log-cabin like house.
    The walls and floor were made of planks of wood, and Quill switched the light on as they walked in.
    In the main room, there was a chandelier made of antlers, with an old bearskin rug underneath. There were deer, fox, bear, elk, rabbit and mink furs hanging all over the walls. Quill lead Simon into the dining room, where a polished oak table sat with several chairs surrounding it.
    “Simon, I want to show you something,” Quill said, taking a beautiful red and orange fox pelt from the wall. “This,” He said proudly, holding the fur up, “was my latest catch! A real beauty.”
    “Wow…” Simon said, petting the soft fur.
    “So then,” Quill said, putting the fur back up on the wall, “What’ll it be for dinner?”
    Simon shrugged.
    “Venison and spinach sound good?” Quill asked, taking a can from the freezer.
    “Sure.” Simon said, still looking around and marveling at all the furs on the walls.

    They ate dinner, Quill asking Simon how his summer had been all the while.
After they were finished, Simon crawled into bed, slipping under the soft rabbit furs and yawned. It had been a while since he had visited his uncle. He liked it here. Tomorrow they would go fishing and then exploring. He thought as he drifted slowly off to sleep.
But tomorrow would be much different then he had expected.

    Daien watched, smiling wickedly as the two spirits - the white hare and black wolf - descended towards the wooden-shingled house below. Curls of smoke, black and white, trailed behind the spirits and melded together forming a stream of grey in their wake. The hare and wolf looked at each other silently and began to weave around each other and around Simon.

Broken by death…
Broken by word…
Unbroken forever….

    And as wisps of grey smoke ascended and hare and wolf were gone, so was Simon.