The winter that started it all (and the view from my window).
February 2014

He whistled to his comrades to run – the humans were at it again.

It had all started in the winter of ’14 – the winter that never truly ended. So many had died; so many younglings that never woke up.

Now, life rarely managed to struggle through the dry, crusted ice that covered the world. Those with the biggest teeth, fiercest claws and toughest hide snatched at it first, anyway. Bark, snails and grubs weren’t plentiful, but at least they could still be found.

Cold and starving, the winter burrow became their only burrow. Each year it went deeper and deeper, as the frost line chased them into the earth. Other things chased them into the earth, too – things that had claws and teeth to gnash and tear, but not the hides to protect them from the raw winds.


Man had begun to dig. Their holes made the earth tremble. They brought fire down below and choked out what was left of the life there. He and his people moved beyond their reach, but they kept coming, ever deeper to escape the cold.

Their cities withered and died up top, but what was left of man no longer remembered what life was like in the sun. They were wrinkled and pale under their coating of dirt. With fingers crabbed and backs stooped, their lives had become fierce and bloody.

He knew because when they first descended into the ground, they brought what was left of their learning with them. But even as the humans forgot, he and his kin began to remember.

It was a bitter trade.

He whistled again. The younglings were too far behind. He scampered back, tried to rally them.

So tired. So tired of running.

Every Full Snow Moon, it was the same thing. What was left of man begged the gods to let the ice recede.

No, he shrilled. We have to survive – you have to survive, to teach the next generation.

Maybe if the younglings lived, one day things would change. Maybe they would reclaim the sky.

The earthen wall behind him crumbled. They had come. The younglings scampered and he snatched and bit at the reaching hands. They swiped at his fur and their claws dug in his skin. He wanted desperately to flee, but they would just keep chasing him.

No. He would run no more. He would make his stand here, and give his kin the chance to flee to deeper, warmer, lands.

The humans were armed with more than their hands and jagged claws, but he didn’t see it until it was too late. The club came down and all went black.

When he woke, the whispers of lost lore surrounded him. They filled his ears and made his heart ache.

“Will it be spring?”

“Will the snows recede?”

“Will the sun shine on us again?”

They didn’t even know what the words meant anymore. It was all part of the play. So many of his kin had given their lives for this charade and now it was his turn, too. At least the younglings would live to see tomorrow. It was enough.

The groundhog never stood a chance. The knife flashed in the weak firelight, and the remnants of humanity cackled and cried over his blood.

For Papi Z’s flash fiction prompt: “The Ground Hog never stood a chance,” in honor of the never-ending winter of 2014.

In other News

D: Congratulations, A.

A: Um. . . pardon?

D: Congratulations. It’s your 200th post.

A: Oh yeah, it is. Good lord, how did that happen?

D: I’m not sure. For a scribe who spent 10 years not writing, 200 posts in less than a year isn’t bad.

A: I’d say – and considering Ragnarok is nigh, I made the milestone just in time!

D: So, how do you think that’s going to pan out?

A: Loki. Loki wins.

D: That’s not even – it wasn’t a question of who–

A: Doesn’t matter. Loki wins.

Courtesy Giphy
Courtesy Giphy

D: (Eye Roll) Odin help us.

A: Ha! Not bloody likely.

So, that’s all for today, folks – thank you so much for stopping by the D/A Dialogues. We’ve had a lot of fun these last 200 posts. Here’s to 200 more!


Published by Katie Sullivan

Descended of pirates and revolutionaries, Katie Sullivan is a lover and student of all things Irish. Born in the States, she is a dual US/Irish citizen, and studied history and politics at University College, Dublin – although, at the time, she seriously considered switching to law, if only so she could attend lectures at the castle on campus. She lives in Milwaukee with her daughter, two cats and a pesky character in her head named D (but you can call him Dubh). Her first series, The Changelings Saga, a young adult historical fantasy trilogy is available on Amazon. She can be found writing with said character at her blog, The D/A Dialogues.

16 thoughts on “Deeper

  1. Congratulations on your 200th post! And this story was a perfect way to celebrate 🙂 I really enjoyed your story, Katie, and I think it works very well. I think you make it clear (or at least highly suggest) at the beginning that the perspective is from some other creature, not from a human. But you link the two: “But even as the humans forgot, he and his kin began to remember. It was a bitter trade.” (I love these lines by the way. Gave me chills.) Really well done!


  2. Ingrates on 200, darling. Excellent writing – the twist with the groundhog was a bit weird, but good nonetheless.


    1. Thank you – and yeah, it was a bit weird. Looking at it now, I should have made the distinction better that it was an animal’s perspective and really really far in the future, but I was having too much fun turning groundhog’s day on its head!


      1. My Norse legendarium is terrible (the boy has to school me on it all the time). But when I looked him up, he did sound pretty cool – in the comics and the actual legends. (I don’t actually think Loki should win – he just looked so happy in the gif!)


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