by Erin Hunter
Beetle looked surprised and angry at Alpha’s calm refusal, but Thorn pricked one ear forward, as if suddenly less sure. “What’s a Trap House?”
Storm shifted her attention from Thorn to Alpha. She wanted to know that, too.
“I’ll explain, and then you might be less inclined to tangle with longpaws.” Alpha lay down again, her paws in front of her. “Longpaws are not content to let free dogs be free, even when we don’t bother them. They capture free dogs and hold them prisoner in steel cages. These places are cold, and cramped, with barely room for a dog to stand—there’s no chance to roll, or run, or jump.” She sighed, a sad, faraway look on her narrow face. “And sometimes they take dogs out of those cages, yes—but those dogs disappear, and they are never seen again.”
Storm felt a great shudder run through her hide. Beetle still looked angry, but Thorn’s rage seemed tinged with fear once more.
“All right,” said Thorn after a moment, bowing her head. “We accept your decision, Alpha.”
“Of course you do,” Alpha answered gently. “I’m sorry, Thorn and Beetle, but this is the only way.”
“Looks like we don’t have a choice,” grumbled Beetle, but he lay down and ducked his ears submissively.
“There’s a chance the longpaws might leave us alone.” Mickey the Farm Dog stepped forward, the voice of reason as always. “If we don’t trouble them, they might not trouble us.”
“That’s not what happened to Fiery!” snapped Moon, rising to her paws. Then her body sagged, and she sighed. “Longpaws will always hunt us down—just like they hunted down my mate. I’m not angry now, like Thorn and Beetle are. I’m just sad. And I don’t want what happened to Fiery to happen to any other dog.” She twitched her tail and looked keenly at Alpha. “Will we have to move camp again?”
“I’m not sure.” Alpha looked down at the rock beneath her paws. “If the longpaws want this territory, though, we may have no choice.”
Storm gasped. Would it really come to that? She’d been so preoccupied with the threat of the traitor within the Pack, she hadn’t thought that such danger could come from outside.
Several of the dogs gave angry, protesting growls.
“This is our home!” yelped Snap.
“We’ve fought so hard, and worked so hard,” added Daisy miserably. “This is our home now.”
“And it’s perfect,” whined Sunshine. “The glade, the pool, the cliffs where we can watch for trouble . . .”
“Where would we go?” asked Breeze. “The other dogs who have left the Pack have surely claimed all the best territory nearby. We’d have to travel very far before we could settle again.” She glanced at the four small pups, her face full of worry.
“I don’t know.” Moon sighed, scraping the earth with a claw. “I’d travel any distance to keep my pups safe—and I’m sure Alpha and Lucky think the same. The pups would manage, if we all helped them.”
“My brothers and I traveled with Lucky and Mickey, when we left the Dog-Garden,” Storm said quietly, half-afraid to remind the Pack of her Fierce Dog home but determined to reassure Breeze. “We were about the same age then. They have a whole Pack, and their Mother-Dog and Father-Dog. They’ll be all right.”
“I agree,” put in Mickey gently, giving Breeze a lick. “Longpaws may not all be bad, but the pups will be safer if we stay away from them.”
Third Dog Twitch nodded. “It’s a big decision to make, Alpha. Perhaps we shouldn’t be too rash, but we should all think hard about our future.”
Lucky, who had been quiet till now, gave a growl. Gently he licked Tumble’s small head. “It’s the pups who are the future of our Pack, and I don’t ever want to see them in longpaw cages.”
Alpha gave a sharp, quiet bark. “Very well. The discussion is over for now. There’s much for every dog to think about. Talk about it among yourselves. We will come together again soon and decide what to do. I know it’s a hard bone to chew, my Pack.”
In ones and twos, the dogs drifted away toward their dens. Only a little rain had fallen, but cold drops still spattered on their fur as the clouds blustered above them, and Storm found herself tired, and eager for her dry, peaceful den. She set off in its direction, nodding to Chase and Daisy, who were on patrol duty for the night. But just as she was about to enter the welcoming warmth of her den, two shapes caught her eye at the edge of the forest.
Storm hesitated. It was Beetle and Thorn, and they were deep in a quiet, intense conversation. It must have been tough for them tonight, she thought, being told hard truths about the longpaws. It had to be difficult for the two young dogs to choke down Alpha’s ruling: to accept that they could never have revenge for their Father-Dog.
But the litter-siblings were as close as two dogs could be, and Storm knew they were resilient. She would not interfere; everything would be fine. Thorn might be terribly afraid of longpaws, but Beetle was the best dog to reassure his sister, despite his own fears. The two of them had always helped each other since their Father-Dog’s death.
They’re hurting, and angry, and afraid, Storm realized, but they’ve got each other. And I’d probably say the wrong thing anyway. I’m not very good at comforting.
She turned away, shaking off her unease, and padded into her den to sleep.
CHAPTER THREE
The Sun-Dog’s rays were growing warmer by the day, and dazzling spots of light dappled the little freshwater pool. Storm lounged sleepily by Lucky and his pups. Even Tumble, Fluff, Nibble, and Tiny had run out of energy and had flopped in a pile beside their Father-Dog.
It reminded Storm of when the pups were very small, which didn’t seem all that long ago. How had the time passed so quickly? Only recently, curling up and snoozing was all they had ever done; they had barely been able to lift their heads or open their eyes. Now, their parent-dogs spent most of their time and energy trying to round them up, and the four pups were constantly chattering and squealing and bouncing and play-fighting. Lucky looked relieved to see them sitting still for a while.
Even as Storm watched them, though, Tumble stirred, wriggled away from his litter-siblings, and trotted toward the pond. The others were quick to follow, and Lucky gave a small, half-suppressed groan.
Storm laughed softly. “They don’t stay still for long, do they?”
“They certainly don’t.” But there was adoration in Lucky’s eyes as he gazed after his pups.
Tumble hesitated, a tail’s-length from the pond’s edge, and the others followed his example, hanging back warily. It was long moments before the shaggy golden male pup summoned up the courage to dip his forepaws into the pond. He tilted his head uncertainly and retrieved one of his paws. Beside him, Nibble dipped in the very tip of a forepaw. Tiny shrank back, ears low, tail tucked between her legs.
Fluff stepped past Tumble, a determined look on her face. She managed to step into the water with all four paws, and that encouraged the others. Tumble and Nibble took deep, shaky breaths and joined her at the pond’s edge; Nibble sniffed at the sun-dappled surface and sneezed.
“It’s all right,” she said confidently, and took a pace forward.
The bank must have sloped down sharply at just that point. The little tan pup stumbled and fell into the water with a splash, and her three litter-siblings instantly erupted in panicked barks and yelps.
Tiny gave a miserable, terrified howl. “Help, Lucky, help!”
Springing up, Lucky was at the water’s edge in an instant, and leaned down and seized Nibble’s scruff. Storm too was on her paws, ready to help, but it was obvious that Nibble was fine now. Lucky set the sodden pup down on the bank, and Nibble shook herself violently. She was trembling.
“Nibble,” he scolded her gently, “the water there isn’t that deep. You wouldn’t have been in trouble if you hadn’t panicked. And that goes for you three, too.” He nodded sternly at Tumble, Fluff, and Tiny. “You must learn to keep calm.”
“I’m not going in, even if it isn’t deep,” yelped Tiny. “Water
can eat you.”
“Yes, look how the Endless Lake grabbed Tiny!” yapped Fluff.
“The Endless Lake grabbed Tiny because the Lake-Dog is wide awake and lively, and he likes to pull at a dog when you least expect it. And the Endless Lake is so huge, a pup can disappear in it,” explained Lucky patiently. “This pond is sleepy and calm. Truly, pups.”
“Well, I’m still not going in it again,” said Nibble stubbornly. She shook more water out of her fur and shuddered.
“All right, pups,” sighed Lucky. “I’ll take you back to the den.”
The pups’ ears all pricked up with relief, and Tiny turned and aimed a high-pitched growl back at the surface of the pond, as if it were an enemy she had beaten in a fight.
This is wrong, Storm thought, alarmed at Tiny’s anger and at Lucky’s resignation. She shouldn’t growl at the River-Dog like that! What if they make an enemy of her for life?
“Wait, Lucky!” Storm padded to his side. “This is crazy. We can’t let the pups be scared of water forever.”
“That’s true,” mused Lucky, “but they’re still very young, Storm. Maybe we should give them more time.”
The pups nodded their enthusiastic agreement.
“Come on, Lucky.” Storm straightened her spine and faced her Beta. “This is important. What if we have to cross a stream to reach a new camp? What if they have to escape a giantfur across water?”
“Yes,” said Lucky slowly, “you’re right. But what are you suggesting, Storm?”
“Martha taught me and Wiggle and Grunt to swim at the same age your pups are now,” said Storm firmly. There was a small twinge in her belly as she remembered the huge, gentle water-dog who had been her foster Mother-Dog. “Martha wouldn’t want these pups to be afraid of water! I can teach them to have courage, to not fear the water, exactly as Martha taught me. The pups can grow up to be friends with the River-Dog.”
“No, Lucky!” exclaimed Nibble. “Don’t let Storm put us back in the water!”
Tiny shrank back behind her braver sister. Tumble put on a fierce face, drawing back his lip in a snarl.
Lucky lifted his head, facing Storm. Then he gave her a tiny nod. He turned to his pups.
“Storm’s right,” he told them sternly. He bent his head to lick Nibble’s long snout. “Do you know what we’ve all learned, pups, all the dogs who survived the Big Growl?”
They shook their heads, wary and nervous.
“The Big Growl taught us that every dog fears something,” he said gently. “I was once afraid of Trap Houses, and Fight Dogs, and losing my independence. But I also learned it’s important to face your fears—to look them in the eye and challenge them. And facing my fears is how I survived and found the Pack.”
“Sweet isn’t afraid of anything,” objected Fluff loyally.
“No, my pup. No dog is fearless. Not Storm, not Bruno, not even Snap or Mickey. How can any dog show courage if they’re never afraid of anything? Your Mother-Dog is scared of many things, but she knows she has to be brave and face those things. And so must you—especially if you want to be Alphas of your own Packs one day!”
Tumble’s ears pricked up at that. “I want to be Alpha one day. . . .”
“Me too!” Fluff knocked her shoulder into his.
“Perhaps you’ll all be Alphas.” Lucky laughed. “So, should we start practicing now?”
Storm wagged her tail and gave Lucky a nod of gratitude. Lucky has always respected my opinions; even when we’ve had our differences. His approval gave her a warm feeling of belonging all over again.
Hesitantly the pups followed as the two adult dogs led them past the pond and toward the river. Storm felt so proud of the pups as they bounced along behind her, over the field and past the edge of the woods, through the high grass where they sometimes hunted rabbits. It was the farthest they had ever been from the camp. Although the river was much smaller than the Endless Lake, they all slowed down and sniffed nervously at the soft ground under their paws as Lucky came to a halt on the sandy riverbank.
“Now, pups.” Lucky turned to nuzzle the trembling little dogs. “Remember: Storm and I won’t let anything happen to you, so don’t fear the water. We’ll be with you the whole time.”
It was Tiny who crept forward ahead of the others, ducking her head and wagging her stumpy tail.
“I know that, Lucky.” Her voice was small, but brave, as she tilted her little head to gaze at Storm. “Will you teach us now?”
“Tumble, that’s wonderful!” exclaimed Storm, paddling at the golden pup’s flank to shield him from the full strength of the current. “That’s right, keep your nose clear of the water, but don’t panic if a wave splashes up. Good!”
“Catch me!” yelped Nibble as her Father-Dog caught her gently in his jaws and tugged her closer to shore.
“Good job, Nibble. But don’t get too overconfident!” Lucky licked her nose.
“I’m swimming!” yelped Fluff, splashing out into the deeper water.
“Hey!” Storm swam to her and herded her back toward the shallower water. “That’s good, Fluff—but listen to your father! You mustn’t take the River-Dog’s good mood for granted.”
Finding her paws in the shallows, Fluff nodded and shook her fur vigorously. “All right, Storm. But the River-Dog won’t hurt us, I know it!”
Tiny sidled up to her litter-sister. Shyly she said, “You’re really good at swimming, Fluff.”
“You will be too, Tiny!” said Fluff reassuringly. “Don’t be scared of River-Dog. She’s just very big and strong, and we need to trust her.”
“And respect her,” Lucky added, laughing as he paddled to shore. “Now, stay in the shallows for a while, pups. I’m tired!”
They yapped their agreement, and, braver now, waded close to the bank. Storm watched them with amusement as Lucky came to her side, and they flopped down together on the crescent of gritty sand.
“That was a good idea, Storm,” said Lucky. “You were right. And look at them now! You’re a good teacher. You’ll be a terrific Mother-Dog yourself someday.”
“Humph.” Storm wriggled a little uncomfortably. She wasn’t at all sure she wanted noisy, disobedient pups of her own, however sweet. She changed the subject swiftly. “The water looks good, don’t you think? Clean and clear.”
“I was just thinking that,” mused Lucky. “The River-Dog doesn’t look sick at all anymore. Maybe the effects of the Big Growl are fading. The Spirit Dogs are setting things right, as they always do.”
Storm nodded doubtfully. “I suppose, even if they’re wounded, the Spirit Dogs will always put things right in the end?”
“Yes. They always come back.” Lucky laid his head on his paws and gazed sadly at his frolicking pups. He gave a deep sigh. “I’ll be sorry if we have to leave this place.”
“I know. It’s just about perfect.”
“And it’s not only the place.” His ears drooped. “I wish I could meet Bella’s pups when they’re born. At least while we’re here, Bella knows where we are, and I can believe she’ll come back to see me someday. If we leave, I may never meet the pups at all. I wish I’d fought harder to stop her and Arrow from leaving the Pack, Storm. If I’d known about her pups, maybe I would have.”
“I wish they hadn’t left, too,” said Storm quietly. “Arrow was—well, he wasn’t a brother to me, like Bella is your sister. But he was the only Fierce Dog I really knew, the only one I ever got to talk to. It would have been fun to see Fierce pups grow up—but this time, raised by kind parent-dogs. I’d have liked that.” She sighed. “And it would have been so good for the Pack, too—to realize that it’s a dog’s parents and friends and Pack who make them what they are, not their Fierce Dog blood.”
Lucky gave her a gentle, consoling nudge and laid his head upon her neck.
A breeze ruffled the surface of the shallows where the pups were playing. The water splashed Tiny’s nose, making her jump and yap in surprise. Fluff was teaching her litter-siblings a jumping game o
ver the tiny waves, and showing them how much fun it was to flop on their bellies in the shallows. Beside Storm, Lucky gave a gruff chuckle and lifted his head.
“We both miss Bella and Arrow,” he murmured, “but it’s hard to be sad here and now, Storm. Look at them: We’ve taught them how to trust the River-Dog again.”
As Storm watched him watching the pups, she felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the Sun-Dog’s rays. Lucky was right. Their Pack was still in danger, but they had faced danger before. Lucky and his pups were still in trouble, but she was determined to make sure they had a future.
CHAPTER FOUR
“I want you to take charge of the first hunt today, Storm.” Alpha’s tail swished as she walked up to the den entrance. “The prey pile has been running low, so we’ll need you to bring back plenty of food.”
Storm scrambled to her feet, blinking in the Sun-Dog’s light. “Of course, Alpha! I’ve been looking forward to a hunt.”
“I’ll send some of our strongest hunters with you.” Alpha touched her nose to Storm’s. “You’re more than capable of leading them. Moon and Chase will go with you to scout, and, let’s see . . .” The swift-dog looked around the glade, and her eyes fell on Bruno, who lay in the sun, talking with Breeze. The brown Fight Dog looked happy as he spoke, and Breeze was nodding, her eyes soft. But they were instantly alert at Alpha’s bark.
“Breeze, Bruno! I’m sending out a hunting patrol.”
Both dogs got eagerly to their paws and bounded across to Storm and Alpha; Chase and Moon were already on their way over from their own dens.
“Storm will lead the patrol,” announced Alpha as the hunt-dogs gathered around.
No dog spoke. Despite how kind her Packmates had been lately, Storm felt a flicker of anxiety as she met their eyes. They were all watching her with keen anticipation. There wasn’t a trace of resentment in any dog’s gaze, and Bruno looked positively enthusiastic about following her lead. Once again a wave of quiet happiness rippled through her. Things have changed so much lately.
