I woke up this morning with this dream stuck in my mind - although I haven't even thought about it all day or taken the time to look into it's meaning, it's stuck with me all day.
The dream is based in Alaska in winter time. I'm not sure which form I take (I don't really see myself - with the exception of "my hands" - which aren't mine in this life).
I live in a wooden cabin across the valley from a huge snow-capped mountain and the bulk of each day is spent hunting for animals, which I eat for my survival. The cabin in itself is compact, cozy and well maintained. Just one lantern is more than enough to brightly light the whole interior of the cabin. The light in the cabin is otherworldly - there's no way it comes from the lantern alone because I've seen that type of lantern in action and it certainly wasn't bright enough to light an area that big so brightly. In one corner is a single pallet bed which has a wolf hide on it. The hide is the same one that I've seen in other dreams (could be a totem, perhaps?).
I work my way around the mountain, hunting a little higher each day. I question why this should be one night in the cabin to no one in particular since I'm alone. I get a response from nowhere and everywhere that tells me "This is the way that it should be, the way that it needs to be and that it will make sense after a few seasons".
After this, I get the feeling that I no longer am any one person or identity, but I am everything, the cabin I inhabit, the animals that I hunt and the trees that line my little valley. I spend a part of my time making things out of wood from my wood pile that seems to never get any lower and by the time I wake up, the cabin looks quite homely.
Just before I woke up, I spend a little time standing on the threshold looking into the cabin and I feel a sense of pride at what I'd achieved within the cabin, then I close the door and wake up.