Chapter 1

A Chapter by NutrientPolecat

Book based on the lore of ARK: Survival evolved.

The all too familiar resonance of a direwolf’s howl pulls me from sleep. Just faintly, I hear the shuffling of Freya as her unease grows. Placing a hand on her beak I comfort her, grabbing my furs from their chest.

“We’re going to have to clear them out Freya” The pteranadon nods in agreement. Readying her saddle, I make my way to our gate. I glance around and see the rest of our party bustling, clearly growing nervous of the ensuing threat. I make my rounds to all the stables, easing the minds of my companions.

Leaving the last of the pens, I beckon to Freya. Gracefully she lifts off the ground and glides over to me. Jumping into the air, I grab onto the reigns of her saddle and swing into place. I ease her forward. As we crest the gates of our safety I pull my shotgun from its holster. Loading the two rounds, we make our way to the growing howls. Freya’s head turns to me and I smile back.

"We'll be fine girl, this isn't our first time and it won't be the last." She caws signaling her approval; I can feel her muscles ease. The rhythmic pounding of her webbed wings pulls us towards our foe. We perch at the top of the hill.

Standing atop the ridge I spot them. A moderate pack of four. The alpha, appropriately standing in the back, is daring our approach. They had just taken down an adult Mammoth and were dining in unison.

"Freya, we should save the alpha for last." A quick chirp of agreement utters from her now open beak. She was ready, and so was I.

We spring from the rock and descend. The wolves snarl their invitation as we make our way into the clearing. The moonlight pierces the circlet of trees, it's shine bouncing off the raised fur of the pack. We make a final arch in preparation.

Urging Freya forward, I check the straps securing my shotgun in place. Now only ten meters above the pack, I tighten my grip on the reigns, digging the tops of my feet into her. Taking the hint, she hurtles toward the group.

“That one Freya!” Yelling out the direction I tug down on the reigns, tapping her side sharply with my heel. In a flash of beak and claw we spiral into the lone wolf, his now lifeless body rolls and we pitch back into the sky. The alpha starts to make his way to the fight. We have to be quick.

I tug on the straps of my parachute and grab my shotgun with my free hand. Guiding Freya to get closer to the remaining two wolves. Bearing the shotgun in hand Freya brings us back down to the pack. The shotgun echos through the mountainside accompanied with the final yelps of the remainder of the pack. Now it was just us and the alpha.

During my time on the ARK, I have experienced much. The majesty of the still mysterious Obelisks, the beams of variously colored light dropping their kite-shaped vessels, the vast underground caves holding much threat but even greater reward. All of these however pale in comparison to the ferocity and intelligence of an alpha direwolf. Genius in their execution of their hunts, ferocious in their tact. They don’t match other denizens of the ARK in size or strength, but they more than make up for it with intelligence.

Breathing deep, I hold tight to the reigns and begin our slow descent. It is best practice when approaching an alpha wolf to exercise caution, and above all else, patience. They will observe, much like you to him, and react accordingly. As we descend the wolf is also pacing, countering our circle with one of his own in the opposite direction.

He’s making sure that he will be face to face with Freya, an awful realization. As we grow near, our circle grows larger, hoping to be able to cut across and catch the wolf by surprise.

Gripping tight to the saddle with my legs and leaning down close to Freya’s back, I minimize the threat of the wolf latching onto my throat. Just as we’re not but five meters from the ground I see the opportunity. Digging my left heel into Freya’s side I tug on the reigns. Cutting across the snow laden ground, kicking up frost as we barrel towards our adversary.

Air is pushed from my lungs as we make impact. My attempts at holding onto the reins are in vain as they slip through my weakening grip. Freya entangled with the wolf roll out of sight. Gasping for air I slam to the ground, momentum sending me tumbling through the frozen brush.

That familiar howl that has been keeping me up at night is all I hear. I struggle to get my legs under me. Sharp pain greets me, piercing through my entire body like fire. The moonlit valley is littered with tufts of fur as the untouched snow is melting under the warm blood of the dead wolves. But where is Freya.

Another howl. It’s just over the ridge. Scrambling up the hill I spot the wolf in the opening, teeth bared closing in on Freya. She’s been severely injured but holding her ground. I dare not call to her, I don’t wish for her attention to be drawn from her fight, but I know I must act quick. I slide down the embankment and begin scavenging for crafting materials. If only I could get to Freya I would have my pike, but something more primitive would have to do.

Picking a few stones off the ground I run over to the nearest tree ripping off the low hanging branches. Placing the materials on the ground, my implant sparks to life. They slowly being to synthesize. Crafting complete, I run over to the nearest boulder with my crude pick and hack off chunks of flint. A deafening screech rings through the valley, and then, silence.

I dare not look to Freya, I know it’s bad. Taking what remained of the wood and some flint from the rocks, again my implant lights. The materials wind themselves around each other forming a spear. My heart iced with hate I burst into the opening and there I see him, standing over Freya’s limp body.

Grasping the spear in white knuckles, I stare into the confident eyes of the alpha. He stares back. The fur on his back rising at his new challenger. The snow crunches as I sprint at the monster. Careening towards one another, him weaving in and out of trees to break my focus, I’m only concentrated on what I have to do. As we near I prepare for the strike, it has to be exact, I will only have once chance.

The wolf's hind legs tense as he jumps, perfect. The beast flies snarling into the air. Letting both my legs out from under me, I begin my slide. As the wolf soars above me I thrust with all my remaining strength. The spear tears into his chest.

With a yelp, the alpha falls behind me and growls his last breath. Going weak, I fall into the snow. I look over to my loyal companion and pray for any sign of life but see none. Tears begin to well up in the corner of my eyes but are only met by the winters bite, stopping them from rolling down my cheeks. Bracing my arm to my chest, I go to stand but am only met with a burning pain in my ribs.

With one hand I reach out and pull myself towards her. Each yard I go is more excruciating than the last. I collapse into the clearing next to Freya. The ground surrounding her is caked in blood and fur. Getting a closer look at her body, I wish I hadn’t. Her wounds are numerous and severe. She fought bravely. I make my way to her head, placing my hand on her crest then run it slowly down to the tip of her beak.

“You always loved when I did that didn’t you, girl?” The tears are coming too quickly now to possibly freeze, cascading down my face and splashing into the pool of crimson below. “You fought well, Freya.” I bend down and kiss above her eye. Preparing to say good bye I wrap my arms around her neck and give her one last hug. Why is she still so warm? I lean in close to her once more and am met with the same homely warmth. “Freya?”

Climbing under her wing, I find her chest. Amidst the gashes and gore, there is faintest of movement, she’s alive. Filling with energy I scurry back from out underneath her and go to her head once more, her eyes open, those trusting loyal eyes.

“Hold on girl I’ll get a fire started just give me one second!” Climbing to my feet, shooing the pain from my body, I run as quickly as I can through the forest finding all the stones I can. Picking up a few berries along the way to sustain myself. It has been a long night.

I throw down what I have collected. Implant flickering I begin to make the campfire. As it’s finishing I run over to the alpha and stare down at him proudly.

“Of course you couldn’t kill her..!” I carefully strip away his pelt, “this will make a fine set of armor, thank you.” and begin portioning of rounds of his meat. I run back over to Freya. Placing down the campfire and adding the left-over wood, I light our fire. “That’ll keep you warm girl, and here, take some of this.” Reaching out I place a few slabs of the meat next to where she lay. Slowly she eats. Finally a sigh of relief, “We made it, we’re okay.” Freya coos softly in agreement basking in the heat of the fire. This will be a night to remember I thought, drifting to sleep.

The low burning crackle of the dying fire greets me as I reluctantly wake up. The night’s battle has taken it's toll. Freya! I roll over quickly to check on her, I'm relieved to find her alive and well. Head curled under her wing, shielding her eyes from the now aloft sun. Knowing Freya had earned her rest, I set out to prepare for our trip back home. Checking her saddle for the shotgun, I'm surprised by it's absence.

Hobbling over the hill, our work is laid out before me. I walk into the clearing in search for my prized shotgun. To date, it has been by far and wide the most precious treasure I have found from the beams of light. Stumbling through the valley, I come to an oddly shaped indentation in the snow and peer in.

“Ah there you are.” Reaching down into the hole, I pull out my beauty. Primitive in appearance, but there is something special about this gun, I can just feel it when it’s in my hands. Resembling the few I had made at my smithing table, but etched on the underside of its double barrel is the word, “mastercraft”. And masterful it is.Climbing back over the hill, I see Freya is finally waking. Glad to see her stretching her pearl colored wings amidst a morning yawn, I jog to her.

“Good morning.” Greeting Freya with a careful pat on her beak. I know she must be in pain. She responds with a gentle nibble of my hand. “Let’s take a look at you.” Meticulously I scan Freya’s body for anything more severe than a gash, or cut. She has several claw marks on her wings, luckily nothing that pierced the membrane. A few more are scattered about her face and neck, but again, nothing too serious. Growing concerned at not finding what would have caused her to have fainted last night, I Search the rest of her abdomen. There is the culprit, a gash no shorter than a foot and a half right below her ribs. The blood had coagulated now, but I can only imagine the blood loss she would have experienced.

Knowing the cause of last night’s scare, I set out to make some medicine for her. Freya being in no shape to fight, I take my shotgun just in case. Thankfully, we happened to be in a decently lush part of the tundra; I quickly find all of the tinto berries I need to make some medicine. For the narcotics I always keep some spare in Freyas saddle, I never know when I’ll happen upon a potential worthy addition to the group.

“Just give me a couple minutes here Freya, and I’ll patch you right up.” From the rummaging last night and this morning, I find I have enough resources to make the cooking pot I need and quickly open my implant to do so. This implant is something that still astounds me. I have no recollection of how it came to be attached to my arm. All that I can remember is waking alone on a beach under the blaring sun, to find it embedded in my arm accompanied with a terrible itch. The mystery of how it came to be still looms.

The remarkable aspect of this device is its abilities. Through its power, I have learned a great number of things I never through possible. I am capable of building an assortment of survival essentials. Anything from basic tools like the pick I had used last night and primitive spear, to the more advanced metal tools and firearms. It seems to have limitless possibilities. Only through time can I begin to unlock more, and more of it’s wonders.

Not only can it allow the creation of amazing structures and tools, it also provides myself with incredible strength and endurance. Through my time on the island, I have only grown stronger and stronger. I now have endurance to match that of most other inhabitants of this island, and can run faster than I ever thought would be possible.

Cooking pot complete, I place it next to our campfire placing the ingredients inside. Grabbing the canteen from the saddle I add in some water. The resulting brew is nothing short of miraculous. I still wonder how that Rockwell discovered these recipes, but I can not begin to thank him enough. I pour some of the brew into the now empty canteen, and take a swig. The feeling is like nothing I have ever experienced. Immediately, I can feel it’s magic take effect. Revitalized, I turn my attention to Freya.

Still badly wounded, I take comfort in knowing her pain will soon be relieved. I find the most serious of her injuries, pouring a generous amount of the medicine over them, cupping my hand underneath to make sure none is wasted. Gently massaging the liquid into her wounds, I watch as they close themselves. The denizens of this island host the remarkable trait of being extremely quick healers, when provided the correct nourishment. Going over her smooth skin with the brew, closing up her wounds, Freya lets out a soothing coo with each gash healed. I save the biggest one for last and finish patching her up, her pale white skin and black skeletal markings now free of any visible wounds. Freya rejoices and begins nudging me with her beak.

“Yes I know you’re welcome,” patting her and give her neck a gentle hug. “let’s get home, shall we?” no sooner could I finish the sentence than Freya flips me onto her back, with a flick of her wing and we’re off. “I’m glad you’re okay girl.” A loud caw and a playful roll tells me all I need to know, Freya is happy too.

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