by StacyPlays
“Basil, would you mind giving me a ride to the village?” Stacy asked the sleek wolf. Basil stood and trotted over to Stacy, who hopped onto Basil’s back. “I told Miriam I’d be there before dark.”
Three
BASIL RAN SWIFTLY through the taiga’s trees to the bend in the river where Stacy liked to cross. There were just enough moss-covered stones to make the crossing challenging for Stacy but not impossible. She dismounted Basil and turned to the yellow-eyed wolf.
“I’ll be home in a few hours,” Stacy said, kissing Basil on the top of her head. “Tell the others not to worry.”
Basil began to run and then quickly disappeared into the forest. Stacy turned toward the village and expertly made her way across the river. It was a mile’s journey through some cattle fields until she’d reach the little village and the café where Miriam worked.
Miriam Locklear was Stacy’s friend—her only human friend. They’d met last summer while Miriam was camping in the taiga. Stacy had also seen her again in the fall, when Stacy snuck into a village council meeting to learn about a potential real estate development that would have demolished the taiga. Luckily, Stacy and her wolves worked to get the taiga designated as a national forest—and in the process, Miriam had discovered Stacy’s secret. Stacy had always feared that if a human were to find out there was a girl living in the woods with six wolves, then people would assume she wasn’t safe and try to make her leave. But Miriam was different. She trusted Stacy and seemed happy to keep Stacy’s secret—and for that Stacy was very grateful. In fact, the coat Stacy wore had been a gift from Miriam at the holidays.
After they saved the taiga, Miriam had moved to the village and started working at the diner, where she invited Stacy for a meal once a week. Stacy delighted in trying new foods—some were things she’d never even heard of before like French fries, tuna salad, grilled cheese, and split-pea soup. Stacy suspected the weekly meal was Miriam’s way of making sure Stacy was still healthy and safe, but she didn’t mind her concern. Having a friend that she could talk to (who could actually talk back to her) was a treat for Stacy, after all. She welcomed her conversations with Miriam and used them to talk about all sorts of topics, but mostly she wanted to know if Miriam had heard anything about the scientists from the village university who were studying the wolves in the taiga.
Stacy couldn’t forget the close call she’d had with them last year when they shot Noah with a tranquilizer dart. Fortunately, the other wolves were able to carry Noah into the cave and hide him from the researchers. Stacy knew the researchers meant no harm and were just trying to collect data to help them understand how the wolves lived in the forest, but she couldn’t risk having one of her wolves studied. After all, they had special abilities. What if they’d discovered Noah’s ability to breathe underwater? They probably would never have released him back into the wild. They would have wanted to run more tests. Stacy and the others might not have ever seen him again.
Stacy skipped through a field of grazing cattle on her way to meet Miriam at the diner. The black-and-white-spotted cows did not startle at her presence but rather kept happily munching away on the grass. Stacy crossed through the field, hopped the gate, and then made her way to the center of town where the village diner was located.
The diner was old and small. But it was cozy and full of delicious smells. Stacy could never decide if she preferred to sit at one of the small wooden booths with red-and-white-checkered tablecloths or on one of the swivel barstools at the front counter, where she could spin around and keep an eye out the window at the village comings and goings.
“Stacy!” Miriam greeted her warmly as Stacy swung open the door to the little diner. Miriam came around the counter and gave Stacy a hug. “Here, I saved a spot at the counter for you,” she said, gesturing to the empty stool near the cash register.
Miriam had long black hair, which was tied up in a ponytail, and was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a white short-sleeve blouse. Her skin was a beautiful copper brown. She had an apron on, with a pen and a pad of paper sticking out of the pocket.
Stacy took a seat at the counter near an old man she didn’t recognize. She and Miriam had become pretty used to hiding Stacy’s identity from nosy villagers. She was usually either Miriam’s little cousin visiting from another village or a student on a field trip to Great Taiga National Forest who missed the bus home and was waiting for her parent to come pick her up. Stacy would never say that she liked lying about who she was, but it was necessary to protect her wolves, so she didn’t feel bad about it one bit.
Half an hour later, Stacy was busy tucking into her tuna melt, French fries, and grapes. She had a tall chocolate milkshake as well. Miriam had been filling Stacy in on the latest village gossip when the conversation suddenly shifted. Miriam hunched over the bar toward Stacy and whispered in a grave tone.
“Dr. Berg from the research team eats here from time to time,” she began. “I overheard him say that his team is preparing to collar the wolves in the taiga.” Stacy was a little familiar with wolf collaring—she understood that the team would likely use a helicopter to spot the wolves from the sky, shoot them with a tranquilizer dart, and place a collar with GPS around their necks so they would be able to study the wolves’ hunting trails. It would be fine for wolves like Droplet and Splat—wolves who had natural instincts and habits. But Stacy knew that none of her six wolves could ever be collared.
“It would be best to lie low for a week or two,” Miriam continued in a whisper. “Maybe you could even . . . leave the taiga for a bit?”
The words knocked the air out of Stacy. It had only been last fall that she and the wolves had needed to flee from hunters and leave the taiga. They’d traveled to the mesa biome—and while Stacy had loved it, she had missed their home cave terribly and she knew the wolves had too. She dreaded the thought of making them leave again.
Stacy thanked Miriam for the information and the meal and was leaving the diner when a small flash of white appeared at her feet and then disappeared into some bushes near the street. Stacy ran over to the bushes to examine it and let out a tiny gasp when she realized what it was.
A cat!
There, tucked into a bush’s branches, was a white Siamese cat with a black-and-gray-striped tail and eyes that were so blue Stacy wondered if they were even bluer than Noah’s. His nose was small and pink, and several white whiskers protruded from each side of the cat’s diminutive snout. This was the first time Stacy had ever seen a cat in real life, and she was struck by how small the cat was. He was skinny too. It looked like it had been weeks since he had had a proper meal.
“Hiding out, hoping for some scraps?” Stacy cooed in the direction of the bushes. “Let me go see if Miriam has anything for you.”
Stacy darted back into the diner. A minute later she emerged with a small red tin of anchovies Miriam had given her.
“I have a feeling you’re going to like this,” Stacy said, peeling back the top of the anchovy tin and flinging one of them into the bushes, where the cat eagerly gobbled it up. Stacy noticed the cat was blinking his right eye more than the other.
“Oh no, you’re injured!” Stacy exclaimed. It occurred to her that this was not somebody’s pet, but rather a stray cat in the village who didn’t have a home. She tossed the cat another anchovy, and this time he poked his head out from the bushes just far enough for Stacy to pet him. What happened to you? Stacy wondered as she stroked the small cat’s head. She continued to feed him the anchovies until she’d thrown him the last one. Stacy then put the can down on the ground in front of her. The cat hesitated for a second but then stepped forward toward Stacy and began to lick the juices left in the tiny tin. Stacy sat back and watched the cat, not wanting to scare him off. His eye appeared to have a small amount of blood in it. Poor thing, Stacy thought. I hope he hasn’t been in a fight. Or worse . . . abused. When the cat was finished licking the tin, he lifted his head and looked at Stacy as if to say, Thank you, I needed that.
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br /> “I’ve got plenty of food back at my home,” Stacy said softly. She knew the cat couldn’t understand her, but even still she felt it best not to mention the six wolves and two dogs that were also at her home. The cat gave her a small meow and began rubbing his face against Stacy’s leg. “You’re welcome to follow me home, but I’ve got to get going.”
Stacy stood and began to walk away, and to her amazement, the white cat followed her away from the village, through the field, into the taiga, across the river, and home to their cave—purring all the way.
Four
NO SOONER HAD Stacy and the cat entered the clearing near the cave than Everest came bounding out to meet her. It was dark, but the full moon shone brightly enough for Stacy to see the concern on Everest’s face. He had obviously read Stacy’s thoughts and knew that she had brought a cat home with her. Stacy wasn’t concerned at all about the cat’s safety when it came to the wolves. They didn’t hunt or eat any of the small animals that surrounded them in the taiga; Stacy kept them on a strict diet of fish, eggs, pumpkin, and other plants. And of course, they lived with Stacy’s chicken, Fluff, in the cave all the time and were never tempted to eat her even though they’d eaten chicken many times before. Stacy took a minute to consider how the new cat and Fluff would get along. Well, that should be interesting, she thought. Molly wasn’t a concern—she seemed friendly and not aggressive in the slightest. But Page . . . Stacy (and apparently Everest too) was worried that Page would not get along with a cat. Page seemed to have a high prey-instinct, much like Droplet and Splat, and Stacy remembered reading something in a children’s book about cats and dogs being natural enemies.
“Everest, I didn’t know what to do,” Stacy began, but then she remembered she could just think what she wanted to say to him. His eye is hurt and he’s starving. He’s a homeless stray from the village, and we have such a nice home. Think of him just like any other animal we rescue and rehabilitate. He can stay here in the cave for a few days, at most a week, and get his strength back, and then I can take him back to the village and find him an owner. Stacy realized she was lying. She wanted to keep the cat for as long as he wanted to stay. Everest shot her a knowing look.
Let’s just see how it goes, okay? Stacy thought, scooping up the cat in her arms and walking through the entrance to the cave. She took a deep breath. “Everyone, there’s someone I’d like you all to meet.” It came as no surprise to Stacy that the first wolf to come and greet the cat was Tucker. He bounded over and sniffed the cat, who was purring in Stacy’s arms. Animals, like the baby badger, instantly felt at ease with Tucker, and the cat was no different. Stacy next walked past Wink, Noah, and Basil, who all raised their heads from their naps to sleepily greet the cat but were, for the most part, uninterested. At first, Stacy was concerned that this meant they didn’t like the cat, but then she realized they were all trying not to spook him. Everest also seemed to be keeping his distance. Stacy sensed it wasn’t out of not wanting to frighten the cat, but that Everest genuinely thought it a bad decision to try to keep a cat in the cave and so he wasn’t getting too attached. The last of the wolves to acknowledge the cat was Addison. She peered down at him, the reading glasses she wore magnifying the cat’s tiny features. Stacy could tell that Addison was already thinking through all the ramifications of adding a new family member. Stacy paused to consider them as well. Where would the cat sleep? What would the cat eat? Would he chase Milo the bat out of the cave each time he came to try to tell the others of an animal rescue? Despite the reservations the wolf may have had, Addison gave the cat a tiny nod and then went back to tidying up the cave.
Suddenly, Page woke up and realized the cat’s presence. She jumped up from where she was lying near the back of the cave and started barking. Molly woke up from her bed near the fire and, sensing Page’s excitement, began to howl. Stacy had expected these reactions from her dogs and hugged the tiny cat closer to her. The cat began to tremble.
Suddenly, pandemonium erupted inside the cave. The cat dug his sharp claws into Stacy’s shoulders. “Owww!” Stacy gasped and instinctively let go of her hold. The cat catapulted himself off Stacy’s shoulders, and jumped onto the shelf where Stacy kept the bowls she used to feed the wolves and dogs, sending them flying. Basil ran to try to catch them and managed to keep a couple from crashing to the ground. Meanwhile, the cat, now even more scared by the sound of the falling bowls, ran to the cave’s entrance. “Don’t let him leave!” Stacy shouted to whichever of the wolves would listen. “He won’t survive a night in the taiga!” Everest knew what Stacy was going to say before she could get the words out and, together with Noah, he blocked the cave opening. Page and Molly were chasing the cat at full speed now. He ricocheted around the cave, weaving his way between baskets and the wolves’ legs, searching desperately for a safe place to hide. He scrambled up Stacy’s bookcase only to find a hysterical Fluff, who shooed him back down.
“EEEENNNNOUUGHH!” Stacy shouted at the top of her lungs, stepping in front of Page, who skidded to a stop. Molly ran straight into Page and rolled across the floor of the cave before getting to her feet and looking around with a slightly disoriented expression. The cat jumped up on Stacy’s desk, knocking over a small bottle of ink.
“Page, it’s okay,” Stacy said in a soft but firm tone. “This cat is injured, just like all the other animals you help to rescue in the forest.” This seemed to finally calm Page, and Molly quickly followed suit and stopped her high-pitched howling. Stacy walked over to the bewildered cat at her desk. He arched his back and stretched and then immediately cowered as Page approached the desk. Page sniffed the cat with an unmistakable look of disdain. It was clear to Stacy that Page accepted having a cat in the cave, but that she was not going to ever be fully on board with the idea. Stacy figured that was okay. Molly came over, curious and wide-eyed. The cat’s tail hairs had stood on end and doubled in size during the kerfuffle, but his tail was now smooth and slowly swishing back and forth contentedly.
“I guess you need a name, don’t you, fella,” Stacy said, turning to the cat. Snowy or Snowball, perhaps. But it was almost spring, and Stacy wasn’t sure this cat even liked the snow. She tried to think about what little she knew of the cat’s personality, to give him a fitting name. “You’re awfully shy but very sweet . . . you’re white like snow or . . . milk. I know! What about Milquetoast?” It was one of Stacy’s favorite words, usually used to describe someone who was timid or feeble. “We’ll work on your shyness, but I think it suits you perfectly!”
Stacy positioned herself on the cat’s level and stared into his sparkling blue eyes. The right one was still filled with a pool of blood, and Stacy wondered if she should ask Miriam if she could wash some dishes at the village diner to earn enough money to take the cat to a vet for some medicinal eye drops. No sooner had the thought occurred to her, than Tucker was by her side examining the cat’s injury. He pressed his head against the cat’s head—Tucker’s head was at least five times the size—and when he pulled away, Stacy noticed the cat’s eye looked a lot better. He began purring louder than Stacy had heard him purr yet.
“You’re healing him, Tuck!” Stacy gasped. She gave Tucker and the cat a big hug. She knew now that bringing Milquetoast home had been the right decision, and that made her so happy. Stacy thought back to when it was just her and the six wolves living in the cave with Fluff. Now she had two dogs, a cat, two timber wolves who visited occasionally, and a bat named Milo. Her pack had expanded so much in such a short period of time, and it filled her with a sense of pride and belonging.
Stacy stroked under the cat’s chin with her fingers, which seemed to give him a little confidence. He puffed up and sat tall and purred. Stacy hadn’t realized what a beautiful cat he was. She had been too focused on his injuries and getting him home to her safe, warm cave. The fur on his chest was definitely the whitest, like newly fallen snow. The rest of his body was more cream-colored, except for a few patches of taupe that ran down his back. He definitely didn’
t seem like a stray, and Stacy wondered what had led to his homelessness.
“All right, it’s settled. Milquetoast is part of the family now. That is, if you’ll have us, Milquetoast?” She looked at the little cat, who was now curled up and getting a bath from Tucker. “I’ll take that as a yes,” Stacy said with a smile.
Five
STACY WALKED WITH Noah through a particularly muddy patch of the taiga. A week had passed, and snow was melting all over the taiga now, revealing dark brown patches of mud and podzol everywhere Stacy looked. She wished she could splash around in the puddles, but discarded rain boots were something Stacy had never been able to find in the campground and she valued her leather lace-up hiking boots too much. If anything happened to them, she wouldn’t be able to go on rescues with her pack. She made sure to keep them in the best condition she could. Noah, on the other hand, jumped in every puddle and patch of mud he could find on their way, rolling around in them until his fur was completely brown instead of his normally brilliant white.
Stacy was accompanying Noah on one of his fishing trips to the river to stock up on salmon for the pack. Noah liked to fish in a particularly deep section of the river where he could catch a lot of salmon that he and Stacy would then take back to the cave. He’d skin and de-bone one or two for Stacy, but the wolves could eat the whole fish, bones and all. Addison used them to make the most delicious salmon stews and fish pies for the pack. Addison also knew how to dry the skins into crispy treats for all the wolves and dogs to enjoy. Stacy was pretty sure Milquetoast would love them too.
In the winter, it was easy to store fish outside in the snow. Other animals in the taiga knew where Stacy and the wolves lived and didn’t come near the entrance of the cave. Stacy would dig a little hole in the snow directly outside to store Noah’s catches for meals throughout the week. In the summer it was a little more difficult. Stacy kept the fish in the back of the cave, where a little natural spring kept them cool but not frozen. Noah would have to start fishing more regularly in the spring rather than catching lots of fish at one time, since the fish would only stay good for a few days. But Stacy knew it was one of his favorite activities and he wouldn’t mind one bit.