Survivors: Moon's Choice

by Erin Hunter

  “I said, enough.” The strange Alpha—who Moon had decided must be at least half wolf—pinned his ears back and bared his teeth, but he didn’t snap at his Beta again. His eyes slanted toward Moon’s father, a sharp and cunning light in them. “Beta is impulsive, but what she says is, of course, true. We have the right by Forest Law to challenge you for this land. And if you don’t concede the territory, we are more than willing to fight you for it.”

  Moon felt the other members of her Pack drawing closer to her and her parent-dogs. Snap was at her flank, and she heard a low, constant growling from Mulch and Pebble. Hunter bared his fangs.

  “Alpha, we’re a peaceful Pack,” snarled Rush, “but I don’t like these dogs trying to push us around.”

  “I agree,” growled Snap. “There are more of us, and this is our territory. Sometimes dogs have to fight for what’s theirs, Alpha.”

  “Don’t worry.” Alpha spoke through clenched fangs. “I don’t want a battle with these dogs, but if they ask for it, we’ll happily give them one.”

  A chill of excitement and fear swept through Moon’s fur as she felt her own hackles rise in anticipation of the fight. Bunching her shoulder muscles, she lowered her head and gave a savage growl at the red Beta. All around, her Packmates were drawing together in their battle line, grim with determination.

  “Wait!”

  It was the voice of the huge black-and-brown dog, who hadn’t so much as growled until now. He paced forward, and dipped his head briefly to his wolfish Alpha.

  “If I may speak, Alpha? You told us that our best course would be to take a territory close to this one, and demand that we share the good hunting land in common.”

  For a long moment, the half wolf watched him with those cold, frightening yellow eyes. At last he nodded slowly.

  “Yes, Fiery. Perhaps I did say that.”

  Despite his size, the dog called Fiery lowered his eyes again in respect, and thumped his tail once. “If these dogs are reasonable, Alpha—and they seem to be—they will agree to your terms. I think they will see the wisdom of your plan.”

  Moon felt her neck fur lower and her muscles relax as a surge of reluctant admiration went through her. She stared at the big dog. Some of the tension had drained from the atmosphere as the half wolf considered Fiery’s words. Moon realized how clever the big dog had been to cool the confrontation without showing disrespect to either Alpha, and making sure his own leader did not lose face. Now he glanced at both Alphas and cleared his throat politely.

  “My Alpha thought that instead of being in direct competition, we could all hunt together and split the prey fairly. That would save both Packs a lot of energy and effort, too.” He nodded at his Packmates. “We have excellent hunt-dogs, but your Pack knows this territory far better. It would be to every dog’s benefit if we work together.”

  The half wolf was still fixing him with his unsettling yellow gaze, but at last he growled, “Yes. Fiery’s right. That was my plan.” He swiveled his fierce head back to Moon’s parent-dogs. There was still a light of haughty arrogance in his eyes. “Do you agree to my plan? Or shall we fight for the land?”

  Moon’s Father-Dog did not lower his eyes; he watched the other Alpha coolly. My Father-Dog knows who averted the fight and devised that plan, thought Moon with secret pleasure, and it wasn’t that half wolf!

  “My Pack and I will discuss this,” her father announced calmly. “We’ll make our decision together.”

  “I thought I was talking to an Alpha.” There was a sneer on the half wolf’s face, his lips curling back over one corner of his muzzle.

  Moon was proud to see that her Father-Dog’s hackles didn’t even stir. He was unruffled as he growled softly, “As Alpha . . . I have learned the value of my Pack’s counsel. You will have to be patient while I confer with them.”

  Moon couldn’t help glancing back at the big dog Fiery as she withdrew with the rest of the Pack to a hollow between two overhanging willows. She felt a rush of gratitude to him for defusing the conflict, and she found her tail was wagging of its own accord. Embarrassed, she dropped her eyes and turned quickly back to her Pack.

  “I’m inclined to try this plan, at least,” murmured Alpha. “That dog Fiery is a smart one.”

  “Smarter than his leader,” growled Beta dryly, and Alpha gave her an affectionate lick. “We have a lot of dogs to feed, after all, and this Alpha and his two biggest Packmates look like strong hunters.”

  “But they came to challenge us for our territory!” objected Hunter, his ears swiveling toward Alpha in surprise. “Do we really want them living right next to us? Hunting with us?”

  “Better to make an alliance with them, surely?” suggested Moon. “They’re aggressive and strong, and I’d rather hunt with them than have to guard our borders against them.”

  Hunter bristled at her side, his face rigid with disapproval, but Moon found she didn’t care—especially when Mulch spoke up in her favor:

  “Moon’s right,” he yelped. “As long as they don’t enter our territory, this seems to be the best way for both Packs.”

  Alpha and Beta exchanged long glances, and Moon waited, quiet and patient. She knew it was their way of consulting each other; the two were so close, a glance could say everything. I can’t imagine it being that way between me and Hunter, she thought wistfully.

  But you never know, she reminded herself. One day we could very well have a connection like my parent-dogs!

  “Very well.” Alpha shook his coat, then lashed his tail as he turned back to the strange Pack. “We agree to this plan. Our hunt-dogs will come to this place next sunup, and yours can meet them here.”

  The half wolf gave a complacent dip of his head, twitching an ear as if slightly amused. “Good. It’s settled. We meet at sunup.”

  As he began to stalk away, his big Packmate Fiery half turned, his dark eyes meeting Moon’s. She thought she saw his ears prick forward as his head gave the tiniest of nods.

  A thrill ran between her fur and her skin, making her shake herself in unease. Tearing her gaze away from his, she hurried after her Father-Dog and Mother-Dog.

  “I like that Fiery,” Alpha was telling Beta, as Moon trotted up alongside them. “He advised his Alpha without showing him a grain of disrespect. And his plan was a clever one.”

  I like him too, Moon realized, picking up her paws more jauntily. He does seem clever. And gentle. And kind.

  And their Packs were going to hunt together. . . .

  Perhaps Fiery and I can be friends. . . .

  CHAPTER THREE

  Groggily, Moon lifted her head. The air against her hide was cold and very still, and only a faint light filtered into the den—she could tell that it was early, and the Sun-Dog had not yet stretched and risen. But something had woken her. . . .

  Alarmed, Moon glanced at her sister. Star was curled up close by, her sides trembling, and despite the chilly air, Moon could feel the heat of her body. When she touched Star’s flank gently with her nose, the burning intensity of it shocked her. Star’s eyes were almost closed, but she gave a tiny hoarse whimper.

  “Star!” Moon sprang to all four paws and bent her head urgently to her litter-sister. “Star!”

  Again that awful plaintive whine came from her litter-sister’s throat, but it seemed Star couldn’t even raise her head, much less respond to Moon’s frantic licking.

  She’s caught Fly’s sickness, Moon realized with a plummeting sense of dread. But Star seems much worse than he did yesterday. This has come on so quickly!

  “Star, I’ll get help. Wait here!” She realized as soon as she said it how ridiculous that sounded; Star was clearly incapable of moving a hind leg, and her desperate breathing was shallow and wheezy.

  Fear squeezed Moon’s lungs as she bounded out through the den entrance and raced to her parent-dogs’ den. Her paws skidded, sending up sprays of loose earth and leaves as she plunged into the dimness.

  “Mother-Dog!” As she caught her breath, she reme
mbered she wasn’t a pup anymore. “Beta! Alpha! It’s Star—she is very sick!”

  Her Father-Dog turned as her Mother-Dog sprang to her paws. “What, Moon?” he growled. “How sick?”

  “Very,” she panted. “Worse than Fly yesterday.”

  Beta hurried out past Moon, her eyes sparking with anxiety. As Moon followed, her heart beating hard, she realized her frantic barking had roused many of the other dogs. They were emerging from their dens, their fur bristling, their expressions bewildered and worried. Snap came bounding over, Omega at her heels, and nosed in concern at the den entrance as Beta and Moon squirmed inside.

  Moon wished she could calm her heart. The blood pounding in her ears felt almost painful as she waited for her Mother-Dog’s verdict. Beta was nuzzling Star, who shivered where she lay curled on the den floor. Alpha stood at Moon’s shoulder, and she was glad to feel his reassuring solid warmth at her side.

  “It’s all right, Moon,” said Beta at last, giving Star’s ear a last gentle lick. “She has a sickness, but I’ve seen it before. It looks terrible and it’s frightening, but dogs always recover from it.”

  “But she’s so hot,” exclaimed Moon, looking from her Mother-Dog to Star and back. “And her breathing is so bad. . . .”

  “Yes,” Alpha soothed her, “but Star’s young and strong, like Fly. They’ll both get better, I promise.”

  “Your Father-Dog is right.” Beta padded back to Moon and nuzzled her neck. “This invisible enemy strikes sometimes, but it doesn’t stay forever. It hurts dogs, but it won’t kill them.”

  “Omega.” Alpha twisted his head to give the little snub-nosed dog a commanding bark. “Please bring water for Star. She mustn’t get thirsty.”

  “All right, Alpha.” Omega almost rolled his eyes; Moon was sure of it. She’d never liked him.

  “And bring more for Fly, too,” added Alpha sternly. “Keep watch on these two through the night, Omega. They mustn’t run out of water.”

  This time the little dog’s sullen grunt was perfectly audible. Moon twitched an ear in annoyance, but Alpha simply stared hard at him until he’d turned and trotted off toward the stream.

  Omega’s a lazy, bad-tempered little thing, thought Moon resentfully. But so long as he does his job and looks after Star, I don’t care. She turned once more toward her litter-sister, unable to repress a low whine of anxiety. Star’s lolling tongue looked so dry and pale. And this sickness had struck so quickly. . . . “Alpha, are you sure she—”

  “She’ll be fine, Moon.” Beta licked her anxious face. “Now, don’t you think we should give your litter-sister some breathing room?”

  Moon took a breath to argue, then sighed it out and nodded. If her parent-dogs were calm about this, then surely she had no need to panic. It was only that she was so unused to sickness, and now Star and Fly had both fallen ill within a single exchange of Sun-Dog and Moon-Dog.

  But Beta was right. Crowding into the den around Star certainly wouldn’t help her. Taking a deep breath, Moon turned and scrambled out of the den mouth, making herself look calm and confident for the circle of dogs who were watching.

  Their tails tapped the ground, their ears quivered, and some of them had their hackles raised at the strangeness and anxiety. Moon gave them a soft bark as she looked around.

  “It’s all right,” she told them, with more certainty than she felt. “Star’s sick, but it’s not serious.”

  Hurrying between Meadow and Rush, she picked up speed and trotted out of the clearing. She didn’t wait to answer any of the Pack’s urgent questions. Her skin prickled with frustration, but there didn’t seem to be anything she could do. I know nothing about invisible enemies, she thought. I can’t even help Star! There has to be something I can do for her, but I just don’t know what it is. I don’t know!

  All she could do was pad on, barely seeing her surroundings or listening to the morning birdsong. An early mist lay in hollows, and the horizon, when she emerged from the trees, was hazily beautiful, blurred with silver-gray dawn light. But Moon’s heart was too heavy for her to take any pleasure in it.

  She wasn’t even especially aware of what her nose was telling her—so she stopped with a sharp jolt when the scents became too strong to ignore. This was the new Pack’s territory; indeed, she’d already crossed the line between their lands. Hesitantly, she bent to sniff at a scent-marked stump. The message in her nostrils was wolfish, and sharp with warning.

  Yes, I’ve come too far. She sighed, and glanced over her shoulder. Better turn back now, then. The last thing her Pack needed now was a quarrel with their new neighbors.

  But as Moon twisted to pad back the way she’d come, she heard a bark of greeting. She stiffened automatically, but the voice wasn’t hostile.

  “Hello!” The big dog Fiery bounded to her side.

  “I’m sorry . . .” Moon began, dipping her head. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “Don’t apologize.” His tongue lolled. “I was hoping I’d see you again soon.”

  She stared at him, surprised, and he sat back on his haunches, awkwardly scratching at his ear. The huge, powerful dog looked so embarrassed, Moon’s heart melted and she let her own tongue loll, grinning.

  “All the same, Fiery, I shouldn’t have trespassed. I am sorry.”

  “Don’t worry.” Fiery looked cheerful again. “What’s your name? You know mine, after all.”

  “I’m Moon.” She felt shy all of a sudden, and glanced away, back toward her own camp. When she met his eyes again, Fiery was frowning with concern.

  “Is everything all right, Moon? I apologize if I startled you. If I was being too forward, I’ll leave you alone. I don’t want you to be mad at me. If you want me to go—”

  She shook her head swiftly. “No! I mean . . . no.” She licked her chops. “I’m worried, that’s all. My sister, Star. She’s sick. Really sick.” She took a shaky breath. “My parent-dogs say it’s going to be all right but . . . I’m worried, Fiery. She got sick so suddenly.”

  He didn’t tell her not to be silly, and he didn’t look impatient as she falteringly explained Star’s symptoms. He watched her with concern in his dark eyes, nodding now and again to encourage her to go on.

  “It’s the heat in her body that frightens me,” Moon finished. She realized her voice was trembling.

  Fiery got to his paws, his tail thumping strongly. “Listen, Moon. You must try not to worry. I know something that can help with the fever, at least. Follow me?”

  She hesitated only for a moment, then nodded. She trusted this dog, she realized, without even having to think about it; it was like an extra instinct that she’d only just discovered. As Fiery put his nose to the grass and set off on some unseen trail, she followed him without question.

  He reached the edge of a copse of birch, and halted, nodding. “Here, Moon.” Opening his jaws, he tore up a fleshy-leaved plant, roots and all, and laid it down at her forepaws. “My Mother-Dog taught me about this. It’ll help bring the heat down in Star’s body. Get her to chew it.” He turned to tear up more of the plant with his teeth. “And make sure she has plenty of water. That’s important.”

  Moon stared down at the plants, and then at Fiery. She opened her jaws to thank him, then realized she didn’t know what to say. Not long ago she’d been filled with despair; now he’d kindled a new hope in her heart, and the day looked different altogether. She could help Star! Strangely, a part of her wanted to butt her head against his neck and nuzzle him in gratitude. But that was ridiculous. She barely knew the dog! To stop herself from licking his nose, she bent and picked up the plants in her jaws.

  “Thank you,” she mumbled through them, forcing herself to meet his eyes. “It means—”

  “Go on.” Fiery nodded. “You’d better get that to your sister.”

  Without another word—she couldn’t think of the right one anyway—she spun on her haunches and raced back to her Pack, and to Star.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Whatever happened to that
feeling?

  It had only been a few journeys of the Sun-Dog since she’d bounded away from Fiery with a new and excited optimism. Now, exhausted, Moon scraped at the earth, digging out clods of it. Every muscle in her body hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain in her rib cage. It couldn’t be her heart, she thought. Her heart had curled up like a sick pup, and died inside her.

  I remember the feeling I had then. It was hope, but it’s not there anymore. It’s gone.

  Her paws were clogged and sticky with earth, but the hole seemed deep enough now. She took an exhausted step back, and made herself look at the limp corpse beside her.

  Oh, Mother-Dog, you were so wrong.

  Mulch and Snap too stopped digging, and watched her. Moon swallowed. Then as gently as she could, she closed her jaws around the body’s scruff, and dragged it to the edge of the hole. A tug, and one last jerk of her shoulder muscles, and the body tumbled into the mouth of the Earth-Dog. Moon closed her eyes.

  It’s only been two journeys of the Sun-Dog since she and Alpha helped me bury poor Star.

  Oh Earth-Dog, please take care of her.

  Take care of my Mother-Dog.

  Moon opened her eyes, but she couldn’t bear to look at Beta’s lifeless body any longer. Soon there would be nothing but a scar of disturbed earth to show she had ever existed. A scar of earth to go with the others, Moon thought, staring around the glade. Star’s grave, close to her Mother-Dog’s, and Fly’s.

  Will there be more? she thought, as grief tightened her throat. My Father-Dog is sick. Omega is sick. Every other dog is sick with fear. I know there will be more. I can’t bear it, but there will be.

  Moon clenched her jaw muscles. She had to bear it. She was Alpha in all but name, until her Father-Dog recovered from this terrible sickness.

  And he would recover. He had to.

  Besides, she berated herself, she was lucky in one way: The strong and reassuring presence of Fiery made a huge difference. Without him, Moon might have curled up in a ball herself, and given up hope. Calm and steady, he organized hunts so that healthy dogs wouldn’t go hungry, and he searched out more of the fever plant, bringing jawfuls of it back to Moon’s Pack until they had a store of it beneath a cool outcrop of stone.