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The winter closed in with biting talons and icy winds that brought with it snow that buried the forest in a strange muffled silence that was only broken by the creatures that were forced out of their sanctuaries. The village had suffered from the raid, but the loss of food was offset by their own preparations and the efforts of the se-sabon, winter sabon, as they gathered, bartered and traded for what they lacked. It was the loss of the six squirrels from the raid that touched on all their hearts and cast an edge of darkness on everyone's soul. The first had passed away in the snow, with two more lost in the early evening of the attack, the rest died of their injuries and brought with it an unsettled anger that cracked the peace. They had never suffered such losses before, they had never had the bears come so far into the village before the baraen had stopped them. Calina agreed with those that said that something had happened with the attack, something wrong, something that had cost lives and injuries.

Hatcha spent the winter slowly healing from a broken leg and a large claw mark that bisected her shoulder and part of her stomach. It had been a crushing blow for the Il-Sabon, despite it not being their season. The vibrant and powerful leader was reduced to being heavily drugged to keep her from over exerting herself with Banich working with the healers at keeping her calm. Calina found it hard to see her leader stretched out and limp on a bed, her brows furrowed as infection and fever overwhelmed her. She wasn't trained enough to help, but she could keep Hatcha company as the once muscular form started to grow thinner and the fur lost its luster. She could offer advice on how to help keep the wounds clean and could do some of the menial work. It gave her something to concentrate on as the winter howled around them with a ferocity that left her wondering what had happened to her own world that the winters had been so mild.

It was what she imagined Alaska must be like, except the summer here was long and full of warmth, not short and fleeting. She'd asked Kitch if it was normal, and the male had assured her it was how most winters were. Had her world ever been like this? When pollution hadn't run so rampant? She wasn't positive it was an improvement. The harsh storms were bad, but the clear cold nights were worse. She often woke up to frost rimming the edges of their home and had wrapped around Kitch to try and keep warm. And through it all, her mate worked with his own sabon to keep the hopes of the village alive and keep them fed.

As the first few weeks of winter passed by, it became harder and harder to find time with him during the day. He was sent out with the rest of the group to trade with other villages and peoples to make sure they had the food they needed. The bears hadn't taken enough to make a large dent, but it was enough that they had to make up for it. Especially in medicine for the wounded. Kitch often was gone for a few days at a time before he returned with his sabon. It gave Calina time to think, time to wonder, time to listen to the unease that others spoke of when they talked about the attack. It was only her self appointed duty watching over Hatcha that gave her something to do. And the fact that her leader was slowly starting to regain her strength as the wounds healed.

"Why were they so slow?" Calina propped her chin on the back of her knuckles as she regarded her leader. The healing squirrel was eating a thick pancake made of nuts, fruit and ground flour. It was the same question she had asked many times in the past few weeks. "You should have never been hurt."

"The Friran attacked later in the season, normally it is in the fall. Chane had every reason to think they had gone to sleep." Hatcha gave her a look. "Leave it alone, lass. There are enough questions people are asking already. You can be sure that it will be handled."

"I think they did it on purpose." She spoke softly as she leaned back in her chair and watched as Hatcha stiffened at the suggestion.

"They give up everything to protect us, Calina. They serve us without the warmth of family or mate. They give up the chance to have a family. To say they would betray all of that.." Hatcha trailed of and her features darkened. "You are young among us and our ways are not what you are accustomed to. I'm sure that there is much you are still learning and might question what happened because you have never been attacked by the Friran before..."

"It's not that." Calina flattened her ears. "Don't you understand? They knew it was coming, they were all over the place, but they were still slow to respond. Now all of you are making excuses for why it happened despite the fact everyone is upset."

"They are not excuses." Hatcha stiffened and sat up, barely a twitch of pain showing when she stirred her broken leg. "We are angry, but we are angry because we lost so many. The Friran attack, but they have never killed. If they are changing their habits then we have to question if they will sleep this winter or if they will raid us again. They are not angry at the baraen."

"I believe they are, I believe that they sense there is something wrong." Calina clenched her jaw slightly as Hatcha gave her head a shake.

"You are young to be so suspicious." Hatcha settled herself back on her bed and flicked her red tipped ears back. "Your mate will be telling stories tonight, go and listen to them. Forget about overthinking what has happened and learn about our culture. You have much to learn and it will do you good to hear the stories that all of our kits are raised with."

"I believe-" Calina started to protest, but Hatcha clicked her teeth together sharply.

"Leave it to wiser and older minds than yours, Calina. They will know what to do. Enjoy your stories with your mate." It was a clear dismissal that left the squirrel folding her ears back on her head firmly and her tail lashing back and forth.

_They won't listen. They don't want to listen. Not even Hatcha. _ Calina gave her head a shake and pushed back up to her foot paws. A thousand stories and memories of her world and the betrayals, wars and battles rolled through her mind as she turned to the door. Knowledge that was being dismissed.

~ ~ * ~ ~

One of the buildings at the base of the tree had been transformed into a massive gathering place complete with three fire pits that warmed the place even on the coldest night. Rows of benches had been scattered around the area to allow spots for adults to settle down, while the kits were relegated to the floor. Not that it seemed to phase the energy filled little ones. They tumbled and played with one another, their ears up and eyes bright as they wrestled or played at being wolves. They even boasted small toy spears and arrows which were clumsily wielded. The only time they went silent was when one of the story tellers began to weave a tale at the fires and then they were expected to behave if they wanted to listen. If they didn't, they'd be sent off to expend their energies in other ways.

The adults listened to the stories as well, but most of them were engrossed in their own chores. The winter was a harsh time, but it was also long and boring. There wasn't much they could do outside of their homes and it became a time for them to work on their crafts or make repairs to weapons. Several of the men were working on carving jewelry from wood, their knives flashed in the light as they etched in intricate carvings that would have made them the equal of anything created from gold or silver. Others were fletching arrows or working at creating beading, and some were sewing to make outfits lined with thick bits of cotton sewn between the material so they would be warm. It was a good place, a calm place, a place with laughter and the soft murmur of voices.

Calina shook a bit of snow out of the thick brush of her tail with a slight wince as it made the injury protest the vigorous movements. She had been down here before, but she always felt a bit uncomfortable with how everyone gathered. She didn't know most of the people here. They were separated into groups that excluded her, not on purpose, but merely because they had spent countless seasons here working together. They naturally fell into old habits and groups that worked well together. They wouldn't have shunned her if she had tried to join them, but it would have felt strange trying to fit in with them. Even the children had created groups that they wanted to play with and had things in common.

Her eyes flicked over all of them before they rested on the rusty red male who was seated at a fire in the soft thick chair that was reserved for the story tellers. He had a chubby white squirrel on his lap with the little fellow sucking on his paw. He couldn't have been more than two years old and was staring up earnestly into Kitch's face. Calina forced her shoulders to relax as she made a bee line towards the gathering and caught her mate's soft words as he spoke to the little ones that surrounded him. There were at least a dozen, most of which didn't have the paint that marked them as belonging to a sabon. So they were from a group that had been sent from various villages to this one as culls. She slipped into their midst and saw Kitch's ears lift and his eyes brighten.

"We've already heard of how the Friran learned to hate us." He looked down at the little white male in his lap. "And let's not have a story about hate."

"Somethin' new! We wanna hear somethin' new!" A little black female burbled out as she all but wiggled in her seat. "You promised you'd teach us somethin' new!"

"Ahh well then.." Kitch moved his hand out subtly to the side and a few of the kits moved away to make room for her. "Then I will tell you of Tarrick and the first Culling."

A shiver of unease and hastily glancing eyes passed through the kits as Calina settled herself down near the chair and moved her paw up to wrap around her mate's. He grinned down at her before he turned back to his audience. She didn't say anything, but her ears twitched up high. The idea of culling had become something of a curiosity to her, one that left as bad a taste in her mouth as the baraen did lately. There was no great ceremony for it, simply an appearance of a mixed group of kits that came into the village under the banner of truce. That alone roused her suspicions.

"When the forest was new and still growing, before our trees had grown tall and proud, we lived separated from one another as the gods decreed." Kitch's voice rose up and Calina kept her hold on his paws as the youngsters took up listening poses. "This was before the Lupar, Friran and Monir hunted us and we were forced to make treaties and after Nonnar's war to obtain our territory. There lived a Toron, one of the grey people, named Tarrick. He was a sleek warrior with fur the color of a stormy sky and black edging on his ears that was considered quite handsome. He was the envy of his village because he was able to navigate the mountains of their territory with ease. He bathed in their admiration and became their hero. He was revered in many songs and stories even when he was still quite young.

"In those days, there were no cull-villages and it was unheard of for two different type of squirrels to live together. Each breed had their own magic and they guarded it jealously because there was always the fear that it would be stolen from them. The Toron worked stone and rock to build houses, they learned how to grind stones down to powder so they could make a paste to harden into something as strong as metal. So they were careful to never let others see what they were doing for fear that they would take that knowledge away and use it for themselves. When it came time to trade they would trade their powdered rock with other tribes, but never tell them how it was made except it was with their magic. That was how they earned their riches and prospered. So they gave the task to guarding their traders to the bravest and best of their warriors.

"One spring Tarrick was given the task to lead the guards because he was considered the fastest, best, and bravest of their kind. He led the group out of the mountains full of confidence and pride that he would see the lowly Oskit, the black forest folks. He had believed that there was nothing better than his own people because they lived in good stone houses that would never fall down. In the darkest forests the Oskit lived in trees! Trees of all things! Things that would rot and fall away. Tarrick thought them very foolish to want to live in anything that wouldn't last forever. He laughed away the idea that he would ever be caught in such a dwelling. Surely they were primitive and stupid.

"They traveled for several weeks and past the mountains into the forest where the Rurrfus, the red squirrels, dwelled and watched them. They were barely seen, just flashes of red and Tarrick threatened them when they tried to approach. In those days, they did not trade with the Rurrfus, because they believed them to be even lower than the Oskit. The red people laughed and mocked them from the trees, they called them silly rock-squirrels that did not know how to truly be a squirrel. That they walked upon the ground because they were too lazy and fat to climb the trees. Tarrick bore their insults, for his first duty was to his caravan and he could not allow himself to thrash the red squirrels because he was offended.

"In three weeks time they arrived within the deepest darkest parts of the forest where the Oskit reigned and their villages reached up to the skies. The huts were dark, the lights gone out and the homes emptied instead of thriving. Tarrick went to the great tree and called out his intentions to trade. He believed they were hiding from them and he demanded they show themselves. And so they did. He was greeted by a squirrel with ebony fur that was so black that it cast the night sky to shame. Her eyes were golden disks that rivaled the sun and her face kindly and warm. She stepped out to greet him and he felt his brave heart tremble. He had never seen a female so beautiful, so graceful, so sleek.

" 'They are gone. They had to flee because of the eagles that war with them.' The female answered him with her eyes growing sorrowful. 'I stayed to protect our young ones because they could not carry them with them.'

" 'Surely they will return for you.' Tarrick offered and looked to the building she had stepped from. True enough, a small clutch of black kits were huddled together and staring at them with bright eyes. 'Or they might call their allies for aid.'

" 'No, there are no allies that they could call. They stood alone and they had to leave what is most precious to them in the hopes that they would be able to return. They have not come back, not yet. Perhaps not ever.' The lovely sad female looked at the young. 'I stand guard, but I will not be able to stop the eagles if they come, they will kill us all. But I cannot leave them alone and helpless.'

" 'We shall stand with you and protect you. You may come with us to our village where you will be safe!' Tarrick spoke up boldly and proudly, his heart already taken with the strange sad female that spoke with him. His pity moved by the fearful looks in the small kits eyes as they huddled in their tree.

"But his caravan cried out against him. They called out their protests while he turned away from the object of his interest to their outraged faces and eyes.

" 'They are Oskit! Not Toron! We won't be burdened with saving them when it will draw the eagles to us as well. They hunt in the mountains as well and they will surely slaughter us!' One of the merchants protested.

" 'Let the Oskit look after themselves, they are not even adults that might pay for safe passage, but kits that will offer nothing.'

"The protests raged as Tarrick stood as firmly as a rock against them. The golden eyed female looked at him with tears in her eyes. A sorrow as deep as the ocean seemed to hide there while she tried to block the kits from hearing the angry voices. He could not leave them here, he would not leave them here.

" 'You may go, but I will take her and the young ones to the Rurrfus then and they will get the care they need!' He announced defiantly. 'I fear no eagle and I will not let an unarmed female battle them alone.'

"The angry squirrels left with dark threats on how their bravest warrior would surely be eaten alive by the eagles or bring death to them all by aiding the Oskit. Tarrick didn't listen or notice, he was lost in the wonder of the dark female that helped gather the little ones into a line. She only said that her name was Nyna, or midnight, and refused to offer anything else about herself. She only worried after the kits and was grateful for his aid. And so, they traveled through the night with the screams of eagles chasing them. They were driven out of the deepest forests and into the realm of the Rurrfus. It was in that time that they shared many adventures and the kits came to know him as a gentle and fierce guardian. The adventures of Nyna and Tarrick are many and one day you shall know them all, but for now we shall only know that they came before the chief of the Rurrfus.

"They begged him to take the kits and protect them. Nyna promised she would see that his village would flourish if only they gave the little ones a home to call their own. The chief laughed at them and bristled at the idea of taking in the dark kits. He pointed to his own red ones, red as fire and roses, and said that they would taint his lines with their burnt colored fur. He told them that they would be better off facing the eagles and letting them have the kits as the spoils of war if the Oskits would not save their own. Tarrick grew angry and threatened the chief, but Nyna only shook her head and drew him back. Their only hope lay with the Toron.

"In the mountains they were given no better reception. The little kits were tired and crying, but they were scorned for the color of the fur. The Toron mocked the Oskit female for her kin had been cowards and they deserved what fell on them. Tarrick argued and begged, he bent his pride to ask that they allow them to stay. He recklessly promised he would raise all of the kits himself if only they would be given a home. But it was Nyna who drew him back when he would have called them cowards. The sad eyed female shook her head and withdrew. The warrior swallowed his pride and went with her, carrying the worst of the kits upon his back.

"It was a month before Nyna and Tarrick were heard from again, a month in which the Oskit returned to their home and they were forced to make their slow way back. The grey squirrel took it upon himself to teach the kits, he gave them the magic of his kind and told stories that he had been told. He played with them and became their friend as well as their guardian. It was a time of stress and fear, but Nyna and Tarrick found happiness as they kept their charges safe. And one day, one day they arrived back in Nyna's village with the young ones crying out in delight. But it was not to be so.. For the Chief barred their way.

" 'These are not our young. They speak in your tongue and know the Toron's stories. Why should we let them among the Oskit when they are no longer truly Oskit?!' The Chief snarled his anger. 'They are not Toron or Oskit, they are not welcome here. Take them away and raise them in your own village!'

"Tarrick begged and argued, he pleaded and even threatened, but nothing made the Chief change his mind. And through it all Nyna grew silent, but her eyes were not sorrowful. They were filled with rage. The rage grew and grew, it flashed and burned until the world was afire with it. Only Tarrick and the kits did not leave as her body grew and the night sky seemed to wrap around her. It flashed black and red and grey and white as her form melted and changed. For Nyna was not a squirrel alone, but the night phantom herself. The great goddess that all of us are descended from and as she stood before the chief of the Oskit he threw himself upon the ground.

" 'I have protected my kits as I have pledged to do, but none of you have returned your own pledges. These young ones called out for me and I answered, and for many long weeks I have kept them safe with the help of the young Tarrick. Yet every one of you, be you Rurrfus, Toron or Oskit, have cast them away for no reason except that they are not like you.' The Night Goddess' words pierced the air and made the chief tremble. 'I have allowed you to grow complacent and proud of yourselves so you no longer care of anything not like yourself, but no longer! You have turned me away and you shall answer for it."

" 'If we had known it was you, my goddess..' The Chief started only to have the Night Goddess roar out her sorrowful rage and cut him off.

" 'You have condemned yourselves, so I will take my price! No longer will the kits be allowed to stay with you. These ones will come with Tarrick to a better place, a better village and from there I will contact the Rurrfus and Toron, and they will cull their youngsters. I will search out the ones with deep thinking minds and peaceful hearts, I will call the brave and brilliant and these ones will form villages of all colors together. For you have proven yourselves not worthy to keep them, and these kits shall form the first! Tarrick will be my chosen one, to lead and guide them with the wisdom and compassion that you so lack.'

"The elders threw themselves to the ground, trembling and afraid of the goddess who turned the night dark. Her form loomed over the kits and Tarrick who stared at the one he had known as the golden eyed beauty that had taken so many challenges with him. It was not for fear that he wept, but for heart break. He could not hold her, he could not be her beloved, for she was immortal and beyond him. The sorrow and rage softened as she turned to look at him. Her voice a gentle whisper in the night as it tenderly wrapped around him.

" 'You will serve me, Tarrick, and raise them well. Raise them as your own, all of them and they will grow great. Start villages with my chosen ones so that the Rurrfus, Toron and Oskit will one day understand why I have done this.' The Goddess sighed softly. 'It will be a long duty, a hard duty that I ask of you, but in the end, I promise, I will come for you myself and you will never again leave me.'

"With a tearful face Tarrick accepted his task and called together the kits he had come to love. And from each clan kits came to join him, as well as adults who the goddess had charged to help him. In this way, the first cull village was formed and each one stemmed from it. The goddess had not forgotten Tarrick though, for although she was a god, she had also known love at his hands. When the spring came, Tarrick awoke to the sound of her voice. A murmur in the night that roused him from his bed. And upon his door was a small pure white kit with brilliant gold eyes. A color that we had never seen before. It was a pledge and promise, that she had not forgotten him and never would. It was his son, Treyvon. The greatest squirrel we have ever known."

Kitch gently squeezed Calina's hand as she listened. "We are chosen by her for this duty and it is why we know all stories and all magics. One day the clans will join together and there will be no more cullings, but until that day we accept all of you with the same love and warmth the Goddess gave to us. And that is why every white squirrel comes to us, because they are a symbol of the love and promise of our goddess."

"'M special." The little kit mumbled around his paw and brightened. Kitch's hand suddenly squeezed her own a bit more firmly.

"Yes, we're all very special. Some more than others." He grinned and glanced down to Calina who felt a rush of warm run through her.

~ ~ * ~ ~

"I've never heard you telling a story before." Calina murmured and pressed herself against Kitch's side as they slipped out of the overly warm common room. "It was lovely."

"I have been neglecting my duty, you should hear all of them. They are who we are." Kitch smiled down at her and brushed his nose against her cheek before a thick snow flick landed on his nose. With a snort he shook his head back and forth. "I'll tell you one before bed if you like."

"I'd like that." She flicked her tail and hooked her arm through his own. She felt a familiar flush of excitement run through her, almost electric. "I'm sure I must be ignorant compared to-"

"KITCH!" A high pitched voice broke through her words as snow was kicked up against them. A small slender body skidded to a halt.

A panting young grey squirrel looked at them wild eyed, his glance going from her to Kitch and back to her again as his chest heaved up and down. He had put on a growth spurt that had turned him from chubby to lean and tall, his limbs far longer then he needed so he had an almost clumsy appearance. It was Edan, the young squirrel she had seen when the sabons had changed duties. His eyes were so wide she saw a rim of white around them as he drew in a steadying breath.

"Get her outta here! Chane's stepped down and they're coming for her!" He gasped out the words and Calina felt a cold fist of fear forming in her stomach.

"Wait.. why would they come for her?" Kitch bristled and his fur rose up. "When did Chane step down? And why?"

"I don't know!" Edan pulled his tail around to nervously hug it against himself. "I just heard that he was announcing he was stepping down after talking to the Elders. Then one of the males said that they thought you were working with Hatcha. They are all going out!"

"Edan." A low voice made them all freeze as a far larger form came out of the snow. Anin's eyes blazed even in the darkness. "Go back to your group. Eavesdropping doesn't give you enough knowledge."

"You!" Calina hissed out and Kitch pushed her back slightly to stand in front of her. "This was your doing."

"Fool." Anin almost spat the world as Edan nearly danced with the need to stay as well as to obey. "I SAID GO!"

The roared words sent Edan scrambling off and kicking up snow as he went. His long limbs working with surprising grace as he bolted up a tree. But she didn't have the time to concentrate on him, she was staring at Anin who was looming over them both.

"Chane has announced that he has grown too old to lead the baraen, he will be giving it to a new leader." The big male's chest swelled as he eyed her. "The first one to capture the female and bring her back claims leadership. He set the challenge before the Elders and they agreed. Her heroism when the Friran attacked makes her a good mark for the challenge. I intend to be the one to capture her."

"Then you'll go through me." Kitch almost snarled the words as Calina moved to touch his back.

"I have no intention of doing so here." Anin's tail twitched. "This is your warning girl, get a head start." He tossed a light looking staff to the ground. "Run now and keep yourself armed."

"What?" She blinked stupidly as she looked down at the staff and felt Kitch relax slightly against her.

"I'm not going to win because I took you by surprise. When I capture you it will be fair." Anin snorted and looked at Kitch. "She will not be harmed, the rules state to bring her back unharmed, it is only a test. You know as well as I do that she won't be harmed."

"Until someone gets overzealous." Kitch growled the words, but didn't try to stop her as she picked up the staff.

"Someone could harm you instead of her if you try to protect her." The big male snapped out almost in frustration, his ears flicking back.

"Kitch.. don't." She touched her mate's arms and the red squirrel turned his head to look at her. His eyes were filled with anguish. "I'm fast and I'm good at fighting. If they're not supposed to hurt me, I'll be able to do a lot more to keep myself safe. I can certainly hurt them."

"I don't want to let you go..." He growled the words out, his body stiff and almost quivering with a desire to protect her.

"You never will." With a flush that rushed to her ears she darted in to touch noses with him, their whiskers briefly crossing together. "But they can hurt you and I can't let that happen. Please.. "

"They're coming!" Anin snapped the words and she pulled her head back. "Run you little fool, or I'll tie you up now and have done with it!"

Calina looked at Kitch, a long searching look that drew in every feature that she had come to know and love. The warm vanilla scent of him just barely tasted over the smoky cold wind. Everything about him that had become a part of her life and then forced herself to turn away. She launched herself up a tree as she heard Kitch's angry voice cursing at Anin. It didn't matter, all that mattered was that he be kept safe. She recognized this. This was a ploy. They knew that she knew too much and would take her out using this as an excuse. It was her own damn fault for being so vocal, but it would cost them. And as long as Kitch was safe, she could do what she had to do to survive and get her message out before they killed her.

The snow white forest flashed beneath her as she launched herself over the branches. Her thoughts grim and determined. If she was going to die tonight, it would not be in vain.