Moon's Choice (6 page)

With everything that had happened lately,
and with the hard Pack work shared among just four dogs, Moon thought that the one thing she should be able to do was sleep. Instead she fidgeted and shuffled on her bedding, tossing and turning. She would have to have a word with Omega; he hadn't chosen the right leaves. He hadn't arranged the bedding properly. He—

Oh, it's stupid to blame Omega. I know what's keeping me awake.

Fiery is leaving tomorrow.

Stretching out her aching muscles, she staggered up onto her paws. Her head pounded with tiredness, but the thoughts and fears raced around inside it like rats, giving her no respite.
Admit it,
she told herself angrily.
You're not just going to
miss
him. The truth is, you can't bear the thought that you might never see him again.

Silvery moonlight filtered in through the den entrance, edging the overhanging branches with a pale glow. Soon the Moon-Dog
would be full, realized Moon, and what kind of a Great Howl could they offer her with such a small and vulnerable Pack? They wouldn't be crying out their joy to the Moon-Dog; they wouldn't be declaring their strength and togetherness. Their voices would be small and vulnerable, lost in the forest.

The Moon-Dog won't even hear us,
she thought in despair.

It wasn't just that her heart ached at the thought of Fiery leaving. Without his strong presence nearby, she and her Pack would be prey to all kinds of threats: coyotes, foxes, hostile dogs. How could they even survive?

I should regret driving Hunter away, but I can't. I'm glad he's gone. I think that he might have been the biggest threat of all. . . .

All the same, she, Mulch, and Snap were not the biggest and strongest of dogs; and Omega was next to useless in a fight. If they were left undisturbed, perhaps they could struggle on, living from day to day and taking turns to hunt and patrol. But Moon could not imagine a future in which they'd be left alone. The coyotes might want revenge, and those brutes were only one enemy in a forest full of dangers.

Fiery was our protection. With him gone, we'll have no dog to defend us. What kind of an Alpha am I if I can't protect my Pack?

Utterly dejected, Moon padded to the den entrance and sat
down, tapping her tail as she gazed up at the three-quarters form of the Moon-Dog. Beyond the camp the nighttime life of the forest was busy; there were scuttlings and rustlings, the lonely shriek of an owl, the distant harsh cry of a fox. Moon shivered as the breeze touched her hide, and a ragged sliver of cloud drifted over the Moon-Dog's face.

Oh, Spirit-Dog of mine. I don't think I'm cut out to be an Alpha.

Here in the darkness and the stillness of the night, she could be honest with herself. She hated giving orders. She hated trying to boss the other dogs around. Most of all, she shuddered at the thought of being responsible for them, the thought of knowing that they relied on her decisions for their safety and happiness.

It's too much. Father-Dog, you were wrong about me. I'm no Alpha.
Moon gave a huge, miserable sigh.
I was happy when I was doing my job, obeying your orders. Not now when I'm giving my own, and worrying myself sick about whether I've done the right thing.

She was distraught to think she was letting her parent-dogs down, but she couldn't help it.
I want to be useful to the Pack in my own way. I know you had hopes and dreams for me, Mother-Dog, Father-Dog. But they weren't my dreams. . . .

She didn't even know if she was right to stay in this territory. Did the invisible enemy really linger here, she wondered? The half
wolf might be smarter than she'd thought; perhaps it was stupid to remain in a place that harbored sickness. She was so afraid to leave, to walk away from the only home she'd known . . . but was she being a bad Alpha by making her Pack stay in this place?

I don't know—and that's the trouble. I just don't know!

Moon rose to her paws again and padded out into the glade. She paced to one end of it, where Omega lay snoring in his small den, then turned and paced the other way. Back and forth she padded, her mind a turmoil of indecision.

Do I let down my Father-Dog and Mother-Dog?

Or do I risk letting down all that's left of my Pack?

Gray misty light was beginning to outline the trees as the Moon-Dog loped toward the horizon. Moon heaved a sigh, halting in the middle of the clearing. She twitched one ear, hearing Omega mumble and squeak in his sleep.

My Father-Dog is dead,
she thought.
My Mother-Dog is dead. But my Packmates are alive. They're alive, and they need me. But they need me to make the right choice.

I know what I have to do.

On a knoll just beyond the sunup side of the glade, she could make out Mulch's outline; he'd been on guard through the night, and she saw him stretch and yawn. Moon barked softly to him,
and he turned.

“Mulch,” she said as he approached with his ears quizzically pricked. “Come with me.”

She roused the grumbling Omega, and together they padded to Snap's den. Snap was awake and alert immediately, cocking her head.

“What's up, Moon?”

“I need to talk to all of you.” Moon sat down. She glanced at the ground, scratched a mark in it with her claw, then looked up again. Her three Packmates watched her eyes, curious.

“Tell us, Moon.” Mulch tilted an ear. “You can ask us anything and we'll follow you. You're our Alpha.”

“Yes, I am,” she murmured. “And your loyalty means everything to me. But this is something I won't do without your consent. Alpha or not, I won't force you into something you don't want. But I have a proposal to put to you all. . . .”

The grass was damp under their pawpads as the four dogs made their way over the ridge that marked the boundary of their land. Moon paused, her claws touching the line she knew was the border. On the horizon, the Sun-Dog was rousing himself to lope into the sky; his brilliant golden eye blinked over a faraway hill,
lighting up the gray dawn landscape with green and gold and pink.

Moon took a breath, gazing out at the shallow expanse of the valley. The clearness of the sky seemed like a good omen; it was a good day to take such a momentous step.

At least, she hoped so. Setting her jaw, Moon took a step over the boundary.

Behind her, Snap, Mulch, and Omega followed, sharing nervous glances. Moon didn't look back at them, though; she had caught the first scent marker on the still air.

“This way,” she said, putting all the confidence she could muster into her voice. She trotted determinedly up the slope to the edge of a cleft in the ridge.

There, poised on the highest point and watching the land beyond, was the red Beta. Moon swallowed.

Oh, it had to be her, didn't it?
she thought dryly. Shaking herself, she trotted toward the Beta, giving a low friendly bark.

The Beta spun in shock, her face agitated. “You!”

“Beta.” Halting, Moon dipped her head respectfully.

“What do you want?” The red dog sounded flustered—as well she might, thought Moon with inward amusement. She'd been so busy watching the outer territory, she hadn't seen Moon and her Pack approach from her flank.

“We're not here to make trouble,” Moon assured her quickly. “I'd like to speak with your Alpha, if I may?” “Why?” asked the Beta sharply. “We're leaving soon. When the Sun-Dog rises above those trees, we'll be gone.”

“I know.” Moon made her voice humble. She disliked this dog, but for her Pack's sake, it was important to show deference. “I only want to talk to your Alpha. I—well, my Pack and I . . . we have a proposal for him. I'd be grateful if you would escort us.”

The Beta looked annoyed, but she could hardly refuse such a polite request. She sat on her haunches, gave her ear a vehement scratch to express her feelings, and then nodded sharply.

“Very well. I'll take you to Alpha. But don't waste his time! We have a busy day ahead of us.”

Quietly amused at the Beta's irritation, Moon followed her down into the valley. The red dog's tail was raised self-importantly as she led them through a cleft between two rocks. The passage opened into a shallow bowl-shaped glade, where dogs rose to their paws to stare at the newcomers.

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.”

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.