by Erin Hunter
Moon ignored their curious mutterings and growls. She kept her focus on the half wolf, who paced arrogantly forward from a rock in the center of the camp. When she dared go no farther, Moon stopped, and dipped her head, lowering her tail.
“What’s the meaning of this?” growled the half wolf, lashing his bushy tail. “Have you come to challenge me for the leadership of my Pack, Moon?”
There was a ripple of amused growling that fell silent as the Alpha gave his Pack a sharp glare.
“No, Alpha.” Moon swallowed, and met his eyes. There was a big, familiar shape at his flank, but Moon couldn’t look at Fiery. I mustn’t, she thought. Though I really, really want to.
“This dog says she has a proposal for you.” The red Beta’s tone was sneering.
“Let me hear it, then.” Alpha cocked his ears, curling his muzzle just a little.
“Alpha,” said Moon quietly, “my Pack is small. We lost so many to the sickness that attacked us.”
“There’s barely enough of you to count as a Pack,” muttered the Beta, but she shut her jaws at a fang-baring from Alpha.
“We’re all healthy now,” Moon went on hastily. “But though we’re loyal to one another, we can’t function as a true Pack.”
“But you are their Alpha,” pointed out the half wolf, a thoughtful gleam in his eye.
“Yes, and I have no desire to be one.” Moon kept her voice steady. “I want to relinquish my leadership. My last act as its leader would be to submit my Pack to you. If you’ll have us . . .” She licked her jaws, and lowered her eyes. “. . . Alpha.”
There was such a long and heavy silence, she was afraid that the half wolf was going to refuse her. Moon was aware that Fiery was very still and tense, his muscles trembling slightly, and she realized he was holding his breath.
If the half wolf rejects us, I will accept that. I won’t beg. I’ll walk away with my Pack’s pride intact. I don’t know how we’ll manage, how we’ll survive, but we will leave with our heads held high.
Determinedly, Moon finally raised her eyes to the half wolf. He watched her a moment longer, then slid his gaze to Fiery. Finally, he looked back to Moon and nodded.
“Very well,” he growled at last. “Work hard, obey my orders, and you are welcome in my Pack.”
A wave of relief washed through Moon, making her almost dizzy. “We will. And thank you. My Alpha.”
There was a yelp of joy, and Fiery bounded forward. All of Moon’s nervousness and uncertainty melted into happiness as the huge dog shouldered the red Beta aside and hooked his head over Moon’s neck, nuzzling her and growling with delight.
“Welcome, Moon. To you and your Pack. You’ve made me happier than I can say.”
CHAPTER TEN
Blissfully, Moon stretched her paws, basking in the rays of the Sun-Dog, which warmed her fur. In her moments of relaxation she loved to watch the life of her new Pack bustling around her. Snap lay talking quietly to a lean chase-dog named Dart; Mulch was comparing hunting tactics with Twitch, who was demonstrating his techniques for pouncing despite his bad leg. Omega had been disappointed to find himself at the bottom of the ranks in this Pack, just as he’d been in the old one, but he had settled into his work anyway, although with a rather bad grace. Moon watched as he dragged the old bedding from Beta’s den, his expression grumpy. But then it always is, she thought with reluctant fondness for the ugly little dog.
It had taken them several hard journeys of the Sun-Dog to reach this new territory, but it was a good one. Moon was surprised by how comfortable she felt, not just in the new land, but with her new Packmates. The sheltered valley felt like home already. The prey was plentiful, with rabbit warrens nearby and a forest that teemed with life. A freshwater stream ran within their boundaries to a broad, glittering lake; they would certainly never go thirsty.
I hope this will be our permanent home, Moon thought dreamily. At least, I hope we can stay here as long as my old Pack lived in their territory. That was a good life. But this will be, too. I’m sure of it.
The new Pack could never replace her family, and she still missed Star and her parent-dogs with a constant aching regret. But they were safe in the paws of the Earth-Dog, she knew; and this Pack was the next best thing.
Best of all, she was certain that her Mother-Dog and Father-Dog would have approved of her new mate. Fiery was everything they had both admired in a dog: strong, courageous, kind. I think if you could see me, Father-Dog, you wouldn’t be sorry that I’m not with Hunter. I know you’d be glad I made the choice I did. . . .
She blinked, sighing. As for her other choice . . .
Well, she had a feeling her Father-Dog would understand that, too. This wasn’t what he’d planned for her, but it was what she’d wanted, and it was what suited her best. I’m lead Patrol Dog. I have responsibilities, important ones. That’s what matters. I don’t have to be Alpha to serve my Pack.
Moon’s heart swelled with pride and happiness. Yes, I think my Father-Dog and Mother-Dog would be very happy with me.
And I’m happy too. Happier than ever, today . . .
She pricked her ears as she heard the sounds of the returning hunters. Jumping to her paws, she trotted eagerly to meet them. Fiery was in the lead as the four hunters padded into the clearing; his jaws were clamped around a fat squirrel, but he dropped it to greet Moon happily, licking her jaw and nuzzling her neck.
“Fiery,” she murmured. “I’m glad you’re back. The hunting was good, then?”
“Very good,” he told her. “This is fine land, Moon.”
“Spring looks a bit uneasy.” Moon glanced over his shoulder, curious.
“Yes, but not about the hunting. She was complaining about some bad feeling in her fur. She says her bones are buzzing. I felt it myself, but it’s nothing. The air feels a little strange, that’s all. I think maybe there’s a big storm coming, but it’s nothing to worry about.”
“I’m not worried.” Moon couldn’t help panting with happiness, and her tongue lolled with joy. “Fiery, I’ve got something to tell you.”
Instantly, he was all concern. “What is it, Moon? Is everything all right?”
“Everything’s better than all right,” she told him softly. Oh, I wanted to prepare him more for the news, but if I don’t tell him, I’ll burst. “We’re going to have pups.”
Fiery jolted back so that he could stare into her eyes. He looked utterly startled, but his jaws opened in a broad grin. “Moon! Really?”
“Really.” She turned her head to nuzzle her flank. “I was hopeful yesterday, but now I’m certain. You’re going to be a Father-Dog, my love!”
He gave a howl of delight, then fell to licking her ears and nose with enthusiasm. “Moon, this is wonderful! I’ll take good care of you, you’ll see. I’ll protect you through this storm, I’ll find you the best prey, I’ll—”
She laughed, nuzzling him as they walked together back to their den. “I know you will. And you’re going to be a wonderful Father-Dog, I know that too.”
I thought I would never be happy again, she thought to herself. Back when I was sick, and my Packmates were dying, I thought there was nothing left that I could live for.
How could I have been more wrong? I’m happier now than I’ve ever been.
“You have time to rest before prey-sharing,” Fiery told her.
“Are you comfortable, Moon? Are you warm enough? Can I—”
“I’m fine,” she laughed gently. “I couldn’t be better, Fiery.”
As they settled in the den, Moon nestled against Fiery, feeling his warm heartbeat through her flank.
Everything will be good from now on, she thought. Some mysterious prickling in Spring’s hide and bones can’t change that. If there’s a storm coming, however big, we’ll survive it. We can survive anything together, Fiery and I . . . and our pups.
She closed her eyes, feeling happiness wash over her in a warm tide.
The worst is definitely over.
Excerpt from
Survivors: The Gathering Darkness #1: A Pack Divided
CHAPTER ONE
Pausing as she stepped out of the forest’s shade, Storm took a moment to stretch her paws and her back, and to claw the ground blissfully in the rays of the morning Sun-Dog. His light shone warm on her sleek back and, in the rippling grass around her, he kindled rich scents of rabbits, mice, and squirrels. Storm sniffed appreciatively at the soft breeze. There were good prospects for their hunting patrol.
Storm felt full of optimism on this glittering New Leaf day. It was her first chance to be in charge of a hunt, and she was proud that her Pack Beta, Lucky, had shown such faith in her. He always has, she thought gratefully. She owed so much to the golden-furred Beta who had once been a Lone Dog.
She glanced over her shoulder at the team she was leading. Some of the Pack’s best dogs, she thought with pride. Snap, who had long been part of Sweet’s Pack, had always been a fine hunter, and Mickey, despite his Leashed Dog origins, had learned to track down prey with the best of the Wild Dogs. Arrow the Fierce Dog had been one of Blade’s Pack, and his focus, discipline, and deadly accuracy were invaluable assets. And Whisper, who had been one of the mad dog Terror’s underlings . . . well, he was extra keen to please his leaders and prove his worth, now that he wasn’t cowed by Terror’s horrible threats.
They were an unlikely combination, but that was what made Storm happiest. Before her own birth, the Earth-Dog had shaken in the Big Growl. If that had never happened, the Packs represented in her hunting party would never have come together as one. After all, Mickey and Snap had come from very different circumstances—Snap from Sweet’s Pack, which had once been the half wolf’s Pack; and Mickey from his home with longpaws—but that was before the Big Growl had destroyed the city, changed the world, and forced every dog to fend for himself. Now they all worked together despite their differences, all of them bringing their own strengths and skills to their new, united Pack.
Storm had never quite understood why Lucky was always barking back to the Big Growl. Yet now that she had lived through a great battle—the one they called the Storm of Dogs— she saw clearly why the disaster of the Growl meant so much to him. When a dog had lived through such a world-changing shock, it did affect everything: the world beneath her paws, the scents in her nostrils, each sound that reached her pricked ears. Everything held new significance—and not just potential threat and unexpected danger, but fresh possibilities, too.
Prey had been thin and hard to catch throughout the long Ice Wind season, but now buds were popping into life on the trees, small leaves grew thick on the bushes and shrubs, and the meadows were green with new life. Storm was determined that today’s hunt would be swift and successful. “Try that hollow, Storm.” Mickey’s kind voice was in her pricked ear, and it set her fangs instantly on edge. He and Snap had been trying to advise and guide her all morning, when it was Storm herself who needed to make the decisions. Couldn’t Mickey understand that?
“There, see?” the black-and-white Farm Dog went on, oblivious as Storm ground her jaws in frustration. “The hollow beyond the hill.” He nodded in the direction of the far side of the shallow valley, toward a dip in the grassy ground circled by young birch saplings.
“Yes, that might be worth a try,” Storm managed to growl.
“We can surround it easily and drive out the prey,” Mickey went on. “The creek runs close to it, and there’s a rabbit warren there.”
“I know that, Mickey,” said Storm sharply.
Mickey pricked his ears in surprise, then licked his jaws. “Did I say something wrong, Storm?”
“It’s just that—” Noticing the slight hurt on his face, she softened, and gave her old friend a lick. “Sorry, Mickey. I’m just a bit preoccupied.”
He was only trying to be helpful, after all—and Mickey, along with Lucky, had been one of the dogs who had rescued her and her two littermates when they were helpless, abandoned pups. He’d always looked out for her.
But I want to be able to prove myself. If they’ll let me . . .
Snap was the next to trot over and push her narrow snout in. “I’m not sure about those high trees, Storm.” Her head tilted as she stared at the horizon. “Rabbits could duck around them, and we’d be blocked at several points.”
Storm somehow managed to hold on to her temper, though the urge simply to run and hunt was growing unbearable. Her paw pads ached, as if she’d been walking over rough stone, and she wanted to be moving now, not standing still. She could already see distant tawny flashes through the grass. The unwary creatures weren’t alarmed—yet—but the dogs would have to move quickly once they were nearer to the warren.
“I think we can cope with the trees, Snap,” Storm told her in a low voice. “Let’s head toward the hollow, but keep our noses sharp for other prey on the way. We can’t rely on catching enough rabbits for every dog.”
She reminded herself sternly that Snap and Mickey were her seniors in the Pack hierarchy. Though I wish they didn’t treat me as if I’m still that vulnerable pup Mickey and Lucky rescued. She gave a silent inward sigh, then nodded at her patrol.
“I want to plan ahead of time, so that we don’t have to make a sound later. Arrow and Snap, when we’re closer to the warren, you circle around toward the creek. If the rest of us take points between the warren and the wider plain, the rabbits will have nowhere to go. We should manage to take two or three. Stay low, and remember to watch for other prey.” With a nod that Storm hoped showed both respect and quiet authority, she led the patrol carefully toward the line of aspens on the horizon.
All the dogs were alert now, placing their paw pads with care and keeping their bodies low, but Whisper slipped past the others to stalk at Storm’s side. She gave the young dog an inquisitive glance.
“I think this is a brilliant strategy, Storm,” said Whisper, in a low but enthusiastic growl. “You’re a great hunt leader!”
“Thanks, Whisper,” Storm told him, pricking her ears in slight surprise. “I’d really like to lead the hunt more often, so let’s hope this goes well.”
“Oh, I’m sure it will. So what else do you think we’ll find? Maybe a deer!”
Storm gave a huffing sound of amusement, and shook her head briefly. “I doubt we’ll be that lucky, but let’s stay alert.”
“You always do,” said Whisper. There was a light of adoration in the gray dog’s eyes, and Storm looked away, trying to keep her focus on the careful stalk-and-slink of the hunt.
A ripple of unease traveled between her fur and her skin. Whisper had treated her with something close to hero-worship ever since Storm had killed Blade, the Fierce Dogs’ vicious leader, in the great battle last Ice Wind. Storm had had to do it—and she’d been glad to do it, after all that Blade had done to her litter-siblings and to her Packmates—but the days of battle were over. She was a hunter now.
She hoped Whisper wouldn’t always be bringing up the dreadful Storm of Dogs, and Storm’s role in it. They had a new life to look forward to now, and Storm was determined to play her part in making it one of peace and plenty for the Pack. It had taken her so much time and effort to live down her reputation as a savage Fierce Dog, a struggle made far harder by the hostility of their old half-wolf leader, Alpha. She didn’t want to have to go through all of that again.
Storm raised her muzzle to test the wind direction, pausing with one paw lifted.
Forest-Dog, if you’ll listen to me as you listen to Lucky, grant us good New-Leaf prey today!
Her optimism returned as she leaped easily over a small tributary of the stream, enjoying the sleek movement of her muscles and the springiness of the earth beneath her paws. Every sense in her body felt awake after the long, hard Ice Wind, and a slight flash of movement at the corner of her eye sent her twisting in pursuit almost without a thought.
The squirrel shot up the trunk of a tree, panicked, but Storm’s snapping jaws found their target. Crunching down, she felt the brittle bones of its body through the scrawny fl
esh. Skinny, she thought, even for a squirrel. Ice Wind has been hard for every creature.
Her swift kill, she realized, had served as a signal to the others: the hunters bolted into the chase. Arrow sprinted across a dry streambed, sniffing and searching without luck, but Mickey and Snap began to work together at the foot of a gnarled oak, digging in showers of earth until their paws and muzzles were filthy. Just as Storm bounded to join them, they unearthed a nest of mice. As the tiny creatures skittered in panic, blinded by the light, the two hunters pounced and bit and snapped till they’d created a pile of tiny corpses.
“They’re barely a mouthful each,” said Snap, pawing at them.
“Every mouthful feeds the Pack,” Storm reminded her, pleased. “Well done!”
Her praise, though, seemed to fly straight above Snap’s head. The tan-and-white dog pressed her head to Mickey’s, and for a moment the two successful hunters rested, panting, rubbing their muzzles affectionately together and licking each other’s dirty ears. With a surprised prick of her own ears, Storm took a few paces backward.
Is this really the moment for snuggling up to your mate? she thought with a shiver of puzzled distaste. What a silly waste of time. It’s only a couple of mice, for the Sky-Dogs’ sake.
Turning her rump on them, she snatched up her squirrel and dropped it into the hole Mickey and Snap had dug out at the base of the oak. It was as good a place as any to store their prey till they’d finished their hunt: a deep gap between two thick roots. As she raised her head, a light, warm breeze moved through the trees, bringing with it that tantalizing scent of rabbit. Storm shook off her moment of discomfort. We’re downwind of the prey—this is a good beginning!
Excitement rose in her once again, and she gave a low commanding growl to summon the others. She felt a spark of pride, swelling to a warm glow, when they answered her call at once. The four dogs fell in at her flanks and followed her lead as she prowled forward, closer and closer to the shallow bowl of land.