by Erin Hunter
Wolves are so strange, she thought.
“But never mind that now. What happened to your friend?” Thoughtful asked. “What kind of help do you need?”
That snapped Storm out of her puzzlement, and she whined. “My friend is having pups—I mean, she’s trying, but it’s not working. It’s been a whole day! None of us know anything about birthing pups, and we don’t know what to do. Is there any wolf in your Pack who knows about pups, who would help us?”
Thoughtful sighed. “I’m no help. But my sister-wolf would know what to do.”
“Your litter-sister?” Storm asked, her ears pricking up, pathetically grateful. “Would she help us?”
“I think so. Peaceful is our Healer, and she earned her name with honor. She rarely leaves camp. But she hates the idea of any creature suffering unnecessarily. I will send her to you. She can make her own decision. Wait here,” he said, turning and dashing away.
Storm let herself sink down on her belly and watched him go. Distantly, she marveled at how the wolves could cover so much ground so quickly, and in total silence when they wanted to.
In the hush that followed, Storm could hear the faint sound of Bella howling in pain and terror. Storm put her muzzle down on the ground and covered it with her paws.
O Spirit Dogs, I’ve tried to be a good dog. I’ve tried so hard. Please help her.
She appealed to them in turn, in her head—Earth-Dog, the huge black dog that saw every dog’s life and death; Forest-Dog, who loved the cunning and the hunters; the Sky-Dogs, changeable and contradictory litter-siblings; River-Dog, steady and loving but dangerous too. The Wind-Dogs, who would run forever, and Thunder and Lightning. . . .
Then there was the Watch-Dog.
Storm knew that Arrow believed in him. It was a Fierce Dog belief, but one she had never learned. She thought of the dream she’d had of Whisper, lying contentedly in the Wild Pack camp, and the enormous Fierce Dog shape that had blotted out the Sun-Dog’s light. He was the dog that knew everything, that witnessed every thought in a dog’s head, good or bad, and stood in silent judgment.
Watch-Dog, if you are there, I appeal to you now. Help Arrow. Help his pups to live. . . .
“Hello, dog?” came a whimper from the darkness, and Storm almost whined aloud in surprise. But it wasn’t the Watch-Dog. A slim, light gray wolf with one white ear came padding through the trees.
“Peaceful?” Storm guessed.
“Yes,” said Peaceful. “My brother-wolf tells me there are pups in danger. Is this true?” Her voice was like the other wolves’, deeper than most dogs, with the resonance that gave Storm the feeling she could make herself heard from very far away. But she was hanging back from Storm, giving her a chance to look her up and down, and Storm could see the same quiet kindness in her eyes as she had seen in Thoughtful’s. She felt that she could trust the wolf.
Before Storm could answer the question, though, another faint howl of pain floated through the air, and Peaceful’s demeanor changed completely. She stiffened, raised herself to her full imposing height, and her ears twisted up and back.
“Oh no,” she said. “Take me there. We must go now.”
Storm didn’t need any more encouragement. The wolf’s alarm was enough to set her heart pounding again, and she broke into a run, hope flaring in her chest once more. Peaceful kept easy pace with her, her strides almost twice as long as Storm’s, and they seemed to cross the distance between the wolf territory and the hollow in no time at all.
“Arrow,” Storm gasped, over another howl from Bella. “I’ve brought help!” She skidded to a halt outside the den. The Sun-Dog was waking up, and Storm could see a little way into the den. Arrow turned and scrambled out, and stopped when he saw Peaceful, his hackles raised.
“Help?” he growled. “From a wolf?” He spread his stance, protecting the mouth of the den, ready to fight. Storm’s fur shivered along her spine, and the Wolf Alpha’s scratch stung her again. No Father-Dog would normally let another creature near his mate at a time like this, let alone a wolf. But if any dogs knew how dangerous it was to judge a creature by their appearance, it was Arrow and Storm.
“Please,” Peaceful said, dropping her shoulders, almost submissively. “I’m my Pack’s Healer. I can help your mate and her pups if you’ll let me.”
The anger ebbed away from Arrow’s stance, but he didn’t move.
“I . . . I think one of the pups is . . . stuck,” he said, through gritted teeth. “Can you help her?”
Peaceful dipped her head. “I know what to do, if you will let me in.”
Slowly, stiffly, Arrow stood aside. Storm wanted to go to him and lick his ears and tell him he’d made the right choice, but she was so full of hope and worry she could barely breathe. Peaceful slowly squeezed into the den, murmuring to Bella that it was all right and she was here to help, not hurt her. Arrow followed, even though he had to stay in the entrance with his back legs still outside.
Storm curled up nearby and started trying to lick the scratch the Wolf Alpha had given her, but twisting her neck to reach it stretched her fur out and only made it sting more, so she had to leave it alone. The sky was brightening now, and the Sun-Dog was on his way. Birds twittered in the branches of the trees above them, completely unaware of the desperate drama unfolding in the den below. Storm found herself up and pacing again, the same pattern, crisscrossing the clearing.
By the time this is over, I’ll have worn down all the grass, she thought.
Bella’s howling stopped, and then started again, and then stopped. Peaceful was doing something. Storm truly did not want to know what it was.
Finally, Bella gave a great yelp that sent all the birds in the trees scattering, and then she fell silent. Storm held her breath, feeling like she was standing on the edge of a cliff. . . .
“It’s out!”
Storm barked and bounced on her paws, as if she was a pup again herself.
A pup had been born! Her tail wagged so hard it smacked against her legs. She was filled with relief. She didn’t know what to do with herself. She wanted to meet the pup, but there was no room in the den, and she shouldn’t bother Bella now. There should be more pups on the way. Storm hoped that they were a little more eager to be born than their litter-sibling.
“It’s all right,” she heard Peaceful say. “Good, Bella. Rest, if you can. It’s all right.”
Storm lay down and finally felt as if she could stay there for a while. Peaceful’s voice was so soothing, she even found her eyes drooping shut.
Thank you, Spirit Dogs.
Everything is going to be all right.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Bella howled again after the first pup was born, but there was less pain in her voice, and almost no panic. The sound wasn’t exactly restful, but Storm knew that it was natural, and that Peaceful was there to help if something went wrong. Finally, when the Sun-Dog was peeking into the clearing over the tops of the trees, Bella’s howls stopped. There was a muttered conversation from the den, and then Arrow emerged and walked over to Storm.
“It’s over,” he said. He flopped down beside her. He looked like he was going to say something else, and then stopped. “Storm, you’re hurt.”
“The Wolf Alpha caught me, before I found Peaceful,” Storm said, trying to make it sound as incidental as she could. Arrow didn’t need anything else to worry about, now that he was a Father-Dog. “It’s just a scratch.”
“It looks sore.”
“I can’t reach to clean it,” Storm said, and twisted her neck to demonstrate, and then regretted it as the wound stung her again.
“Here.” Arrow licked at her flank, smoothing down the fur and soothing the soreness.
Storm felt a warm rush of happiness. It was lovely to be in a Pack again. She’d almost forgotten what it was like to have another dog casually help her.
“Is Bella okay?” Storm asked him. “What about the pups?”
“Bella is fine,” said Arrow. “Peaceful’s helping h
er now. I can’t thank you enough for bringing her here, Storm. You saved Bella’s life.”
Storm bent her head, happy but slightly anxious. “I didn’t do much. We were lucky she was willing to come.”
“Still. You ran straight into wolf territory for us. I’ll never forget it.”
A prickling feeling of unease suddenly started up between Storm’s ears.
“Arrow, what about the pups?” she asked again, trying to keep her tone light. “How many?”
Arrow sat back on his haunches and sighed.
“Two. Two healthy male pups.” He took a deep breath. “They had a litter-sister . . . the first to be born, the pup that was stuck. She didn’t survive.”
“Oh, Arrow.” Storm scrambled to her feet, paused awkwardly for a moment, and then rubbed her head against his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks, Storm,” Arrow whined.
I was too late, Storm thought, feeling sick, as if she’d eaten prey that had gone bad. She knew that Peaceful had saved Bella and the two living pups. But to finally birth a pup, and then find it had died . . . it seemed so cruel.
She couldn’t help thinking of her own brothers. Both murdered by Blade, in the end—but Fang had made his own choices, at least, whereas poor little Wiggle . . .
We were so small, she thought. So defenseless. Barely any older than Bella’s pups, really.
She pulled away from Arrow and shook herself from head to paw, trying to throw off the memories. It was no good wishing that things were different. Not now.
“Come and meet them,” Arrow said.
“Are you sure?” Storm asked.
Arrow nodded and wagged his tail, though his eyes still looked a little sad. “Bella wants to see you. Come on.” He led her over to the den and went inside. Storm followed him, afraid it might be too much of a squash. But the den was a little bigger now, with a pile of sticks by the entrance where either Peaceful or Arrow had broken off the twigs from the underside of the hedge to make a larger space.
The den smelled of blood and exhaustion, and something Storm had only faintly smelled before, when Lucky and Sweet’s pups were born. Arrow nuzzled Bella and settled down beside her, while Peaceful fussed about, rearranging the bedding around Bella.
Bella herself was lying on her side, her muzzle resting on the moss and her eyes almost closed. Her golden fur was puffed up, tangled with moss and twigs. And cuddled tightly to Bella’s side were three little bundles of wet fluff. Two of them were black, and as Storm watched, they wriggled, trying to get closer to Bella, opening their tiny pink mouths. The third was sandy-colored and lay perfectly still on her side, almost as if she was just sleeping. Bella nuzzled all three of them, licking them in turn, the two living pups and their litter-sister who had already gone to be with the Earth-Dog.
Storm let out a soft whine, despite knowing she should stay strong for Bella’s sake. It didn’t feel fair. How could two of the pups be here, their tiny sides vibrating with their first breaths, when the third was already gone?
“Poor pup,” said Peaceful gently, in that rumbling, soothing voice. “But this, too, is a part of life and motherhood. Not all litters survive the journey to the living world together.”
Bella looked up at her, grief and exhaustion in her eyes.
“Two of my cubs died,” Peaceful said quietly. “From my first litter. It’s a hard truth, but these are the truths that bind us, as mothers and cubs, and as Packs.”
But if this happens often . . . Storm shook her head. How could dogs bear it? And then she thought of Lucky and Sweet. Four pups, and they all made it, even if Tiny was a runt to begin with. He really was lucky that day.
A different sort of sadness washed over her, as she thought of those pups—of Tumble, Fluff, Tiny, and Nibble. They would be growing up into big, strong dogs now. By next Ice Wind, they would even have chosen their names. It hurt, more than she had ever expected, to think that she wouldn’t be there to see it.
But these new pups will need me too, she reminded herself.
Slowly, with one eye on Bella, Peaceful reached down and took up the motionless sandy pup by the scruff of her neck. She moved her to the edge of the den, apart from the others. Bella whined and stretched out one leg, but then she drew it back, tucking it protectively over the two little, warm black bundles.
“This little one has simply gotten a head start on the rest of us, in our journey to the moon, to be with our ancestors,” Peaceful murmured.
Storm glanced at Bella and Arrow. Bella hardly seemed to have heard her, but Arrow’s head tilted in confusion.
“Peaceful,” Storm said quickly, “Dogs don’t go to the Moon-Dog. We go to be with Earth-Dog. We’ll bury the pup, and that way the Earth-Dog will be able to take her to the Forests Beyond.”
With Wiggle, Storm thought. And Martha. The thought was painful and good, all at once. Martha will know what to do. She’ll look after her.
“Really?” said Peaceful quietly. “But . . . dogs do howl to the moon, don’t they? Are you not howling to your ancestors?”
“No,” Storm said. “The Great Howl is . . . it’s to bring the Pack together, with all the Spirit Dogs.” Perhaps it would be nice to howl to the Forests Beyond, she thought, but I don’t know how we could.
“Well. Perhaps the Great Wolf and the Moon-Dog are friends. They both watch over us, after all.”
“I hope they are,” said Bella hoarsely. “If so, then Moon-Dog is very fortunate to have a wolf for a friend. I will never, ever forget how you helped us, Peaceful. I hope one day I can return the favor.”
Peaceful bowed her head, her large ears turned back. “It was a joy to have helped bring these two precious cubs into the world,” she said seriously.
As if they heard her, the two black pups at Bella’s side both wriggled and let out the tiniest squeaking noises Storm had ever heard. They opened their little pink mouths again and mewled.
“The cubs are hungry,” Peaceful said. “Bella, you know what to do now. Come, Storm. Let us leave the new parents to tend to their litter.”
Storm stood and awkwardly shuffled backward out of the den. Outside was bright and cool, after the cozy dimness of the den, and Storm sprawled, exhausted, on the grass. Peaceful sat beside her, and then stretched out her front legs and let out the hugest yawn Storm thought she’d ever seen.
“It’s a nice idea,” Storm said. “That wolves go to the moon when they die. But I’m not sure how it works.”
“What do you mean?” Peaceful asked.
“Well . . . dead animals go into the ground,” Storm said slowly. “Even ones that aren’t buried. Eventually, they fall apart and they go into the earth. That’s how we know Earth-Dog takes dogs when they die. So what about wolves? Did Fading’s body not go into the ground?”
“Hmm,” said Peaceful, and Storm suddenly realized that perhaps she shouldn’t have mentioned Fading. Would Peaceful be angry, knowing that Storm had intruded on the death of a Packmate? “My brother-wolf told me he thought it was you who’d been seen with Fading. I don’t know why you did that, but now that I’ve met you, I don’t think you meant any harm.”
“I didn’t! I wanted to make sure that scavengers didn’t disturb him, before he . . . before it was over,” Storm said. “Fading said that he was going to the Great Wolf . . . but his body stayed up on the rock.”
“But wolves don’t stay with their bodies when they die,” Peaceful said. “Do dogs?”
“Well . . . no,” Storm said. “So I guess . . . dogs and wolves live differently, so perhaps they go to different places afterward too.”
“That’s a good way to look at it.” Peaceful tilted her huge gray head. “Do you know, Storm, not many creatures would accept the ways of others as you have. Especially not dogs. You aren’t as stubborn as some of your kind.”
Storm dipped her head in gratitude, but she knew that it was true. Some dogs could be incredibly insistent on an idea, once they had gotten it into their heads.
Lik
e the Fear-Dog. It felt wrong to even think about him, in this sunny clearing, with the two innocent pups enjoying their first feed so close by. But some of Twitch’s old Pack—Terror’s Pack—had held on to their belief that the Fear-Dog was real, and that the whole Wild Pack should be afraid of it. Even perfectly rational dogs like Breeze refused to accept that Terror had invented the Spirit Dog himself.
“I suppose, when you are already an outcast from most of your own kind, you can see others’ points of view,” Storm muttered. “I was born into a Fierce Dog Pack—a Longpaw Fang Pack, as you might call them—but I never belonged there,” she finished. She couldn’t go into the whole story of Blade’s Pack, the terrible prophecies, the Storm of Dogs. “It must be much harder to do what you did. You must have been with the wolf Pack all your life—and yet you still came to help us. It was very brave of you. And very kind.”
Peaceful blinked slowly, and Storm could tell that she was pleased.
“I wanted to do what was right,” she said.
Arrow emerged from the den, and Storm’s heart lurched as she saw that he was carrying the sandy pup loosely in his mouth. He laid her down gently on the ground.
Out here in the light, Storm could see that she was the same color as Bella all over except for a little ring of black fur, right on the top of her head.
I’ve never seen a marking like that before, she thought.
“Bella’s sleeping now,” said Arrow. “So are Nip and Scramble.”
Nip and Scramble, Storm thought, a rush of fondness warming her from the middle of her chest. Welcome to our Pack, little ones. I’ll watch over you, just like your Father-Dog and Mother-Dog. . . .
“Bella . . . Bella has said her good-byes to Tufty.” He nuzzled the little shape at his paws, and Storm held back a sad whimper. Tufty was a lovely pup name. “Now it’s time we buried her. We’ll keep her close. So we can keep an eye on her.”
Storm and Peaceful both rose and followed Arrow as he carried Tufty over the lip of the hollow. He looked around, and then he picked a spot where a bright patch of sunlight lit up the forest floor.