Moon's Choice (8 page)

“Look, Storm, it's obvious.” Snap tilted her head and sat down, curling her tail around her haunches. “Whisper was nervous of Arrow. He doesn't like hunting with him, and to be honest? I understand why. I don't blame Whisper.”

Storm stared at Snap's cool expression, her jaw loose. “What?”

“After all we went through with the Fierce Dogs, it's hard for us to trust any of them.” Snap hunched her thin shoulders. “I know Arrow's in our Pack now, but it's hard to treat him as a true Packmate.”

Not knowing what to say to that, Storm turned to Arrow. His short black fur bristled along his shoulders and spine, and resentment oozed from him, but the Fierce Dog said nothing. He licked
his jaws angrily, and looked away. Then he padded across to one of the dead rabbits, picked it up in his powerful jaws and paced in the other direction.

And what do I do now?
Snap wasn't being fair, and this felt so wrong to Storm.
Just when I was thinking how good it was that we were united, that members of all Packs were working together.

But if she spoke up for Arrow, Snap would think she was only siding with her fellow Fierce Dog. She might even accuse Storm openly of favoring her own kind, of being Fierce Dog to her core.
What might she say aloud—that I'm ruled by my bad blood?

“You all trust me,” she said at last, staring at her Pack-mates. Snap, Mickey, and Whisper looked so resolute, and Storm's head spun with confusion. “You trust me, and I'm a Fierce Dog too. Just like Arrow!”

Mickey caught Snap's eye, and Storm saw a look pass between them, one that she couldn't quite read. Snap's ear flicked once, dismissively. Then, tentatively, Whisper gave a soft growl.

“You're not like Arrow,” he mumbled. “You're different.” He glanced at Snap and Mickey. “Storm's different, isn't that right? She killed Blade!”

Storm stared at him, open-jawed. With a crawling sense of horror, she realized that Whisper's eyes were fixed on her again,
worshipful.

She shook herself, dumbfounded. “Let's gather the prey,” she told them. “What there is of it.” Gazing dismally at the pitiful haul of rabbits, she felt a crushing sense of disappointment. Her hopes had been so high for her first time as hunt leader. “We'll try another spot before we return to the camp, but we'll have to go some distance. All the prey around here will have heard us by now.”

“Of course, Storm.” Whisper got quickly to his paws and trotted after her like a devoted pup.

As she led the small patrol farther from the cliffs and the Endless Lake, heading for a far belt of pines, Storm's stomach squirmed and her fur prickled. She'd begun this hunt with such high hopes and excitement, yet now they were returning with a poor prey-haul—and a bunch of dogs who didn't, after all, want to work together as her perfect team.

Is that terrible battle the only thing they care about? If I hadn't killed Blade, would they trust me at all? Or would I be just another Arrow—alone in a Pack that thinks I'm the enemy?