nodded meekly, her eyes wide and looking quite frightened.

Muttering to herself, Brier whipped around and started back to the others, Celyn trailing behind her like a punished pup. They went straight to the shed, where the others had already went. They all looked up as the two entered, Brier taking a seat beside Lucy, and Celyn slinking to the pile of straw at the back.

"Travis told us what happened," Lucy whispered, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Brier replied, a tad sharper then intended.

"I told you a new dog would just cause trouble," Cutter muttered.

"What if it was an accident?" Mattie suggested.

Clyde snorted. "How do you 'accidently' get three caribou to charge?"

"Quite easily, actually," Nash commented lightly, making the older male glare at him.

"Thank you, Nash,"  Mattie replied with a pointed look at Clyde, who just rolled his eyes.

"Look, whether it was an accident or not, it happened, and someone could have been hurt," Emmett spoke up, shooting both dogs a firm look. "Let's just keep an eye on her for now," he said.

"The last thing we need is another Nash or Lariet around," Clyde added.

"Hey!" both males barked in unison.

As talk turned to other things, Brier looked over to where Celyn had curled into a tight ball. Either the female hadn't heard them, which she doubted, considering how small the shed was, or she was asleep. One way or another, Celyn hadn't moved an inch since they had returned.

Later that day, when Mr. Mcaslin came to get the dogs, Celyn stayed off to the side for the most part, leaving the other four to herd the caribou. Luckily, the caribou cooperated and went into the barn without much fuss. However, when Mr. Mcaslin took the dogs back to the shed, he pulled Celyn aside. Brier caught a glimpse of him leading her to the small corrals where the Mcaslin's kept older cattle and caribou before Buck shut the door.

"Where's Celyn?" Lariet asked, looking up from beside Dally.

Brier shrugged and sat down between Mattie and Lucy, while Lariet got to his paws and trotted over to the door. Squinting, he bent down and peered through a small hole in the door the dogs used to look out. "Hey, Mr. Mcaslin's putting her in with the old timers," he said with surprise.

"At least those ones can't bolt," Lucy muttered.

"Oi, Lariet, where are you going?" Travis asked as the black male nudged the door open. "Gonna see if I can find out why they put her in there. I mean, what if she gets trampled?"

Dally beamed at his thoughtfulness, but Brier rolled her eyes. "Lariet, those ol' timers wouldn' trample a flea, let alone a dog. They don' do anything but eat all day."

Lariet shrugged. "Still. Weird, isn't it?" With that, the black male slipped out and slid the door shut behind him. Clyde waited a few minutes before sighing heavily. "All right, who wants to go make sure he doesn't get himself stuck somewhere?"

"Oh, I'll do it," Brier said, rolling to her paws and going to the door. She nudged it open, slipping out as Lariet had done moments before.

Looking around once, Brier saw Lariet's shadow under the kitchen window. Rolling her eyes and muttering to herself, she started over, passing the corrals as she went. She stopped and saw Celyn's cream coat amongst the brown and white caribou. The female looked perfectly content, and the caribou paid her no attention.

Cocking her head in confusion, Brier walked up to the house, creeping up behind Lariet.

"Lariet!" she whispered, making the black male jump.

"Geez, Brier, pipe down," Lariet told her, "they just started talking about Celyn."

"Why of all the--! Lariet! Ya git yer hide back to the shed before I drag it there!"

"Shhhh!"

Brier opened her mouth to snap back, but Mrs. Mcaslin's voice spoke up just then, and in spite of herself, Brier cocked her head to listen.

"Dear, why did you put Celyn in the corral instead of in the shed with the other dogs?"

There was a clinking sound, telling Brier and Lariet that Mr. Mcaslin was having his evening coffee. "Well, you know that phone call I made earlier to the man who sold her to us?"

"Yes."

"See, he told me that there was a misunderstanin'. Celyn ain't exactly a herding dog like the others."

"We coulda told 'em that," Lariet muttered, and Brier shushed him.

"What do you mean, hon?"

"She's one of those livestock guard dogs Buck heard about. Ya know those ones that ya can't treat 'em like a dog or their ruined?"

"Well, that explains her behavior. Did the man say what she had been, raised with?"

"Fainting goats."

"What goats?" Lariet asked.

"Hush," Brier hissed.

"Those little goats that fall over when frightened?" Mrs. Mcaslin asked.

"That's them," Mr. Mcaslin replied.

"We bought a dog, that thinks it's a goat?"

"Yup."

"What are we going to do with a dog that acts like a goat?"

"She'll be a guard dog. Man said she kept the coyotes away from his goats. Did a darn good job of it to."

"That's all fine, but we don't have goats, or coyotes, for that matter. Wolves are bigger then coyotes, and certainly bigger then that lil' dog. I've never seen a aussie shepherd so small."

"We'll see how she does, and we can always train her to be a herder." Mr. Mcaslin said.

"You don't have time to train another dog, and it'll be calving season in a few months. You and Buck will be plum tuckered out as it is." Mrs. Mcaslin pointed out.

"I'll do it."

Lariet and Brier exchanged surprised looks as a new voice joined Mr. and Mrs's. "Jeremy?" Lariet mouthed, arching a brow. Brier shushed him again and craned her neck to hear.

"Jeremy? You want to train a herder?" Mr. Mcaslin asked, sounding surprised and curious.

"Sure, I'll do it. It's my fault Ol'Mac got kicked, so it's only right that I train his replacement."

"Now Jeremy," Mrs. Mcaslin's voice was firm, and Brier could picture her with her hands on her hips, " It is not your fault that caribou kicked Ol'Mac. Those caribou can be temperamental, and usually are. It wouldn't have made any difference if it had been you or Mr. Mcaslin out there. You hear me?"

"Yes ma'am, but I still think I should train the new dog," Jeremy replied.

"I appreciate that, Jeremy," Mr. Mcaslin said, "but ya can't think that ya hafta do it. Ya hafta want to, otherwise it'll just be a chore for ya. Now, do you actually want to do it?"

There was a few seconds of silence before Jeremy replied with a definite, "Yes."

"All right. Since that's settled, you two boys get out of my kitchen so I can finish these pies in peace." Mrs. Mcaslin said in her shooing voice.

"Why, did you think we were going to swipe some?" Mr. Mcaslin replied innocently.

"Nice try, cowboy. Now git!"

The voices faded, and there was the clinking of dishes as Mrs. Mcaslin bustled about the kitchen.

Lariet turned to Brier, looking as guilty as she felt. "Well, ah, that, explains a lot."

"We jumped to a conclusion faster than'a hot footed hare," Brier muttered.

"Should we tell the others?" Lariet asked.

"No, Lariet, we're gonna' keep our mouths shut and let them'all think she's a lazy, no good, slacker of a dog," she said sarcastically. "Of course we're gonna tell 'em!"

"All right, all right, no need to get snippy," Lariet said, holding his paws up in surrender.

"Very funny," Brier replied flatly, "Now git' yer' hide back to the shed and start explaining all this to the others!" she told him, butting him in the shoulder.

"Where are you going?" he asked as she went right instead of left towards the shed.

"I owe the lil' gal a apology," the black female called over her shoulder, quickening her pace.

Brier stopped at the pen, propping her paws up on the fence to see over the wooden rails. "Celyn?" she called, but the only reply she got was from one of the caribou, who raised it's head and blew in her face. "Sorry fer interruptin', ya ma'am," Brier coughed, the smell of chewed grass and caribou breath making her gag.

"Celyn? Ya out here, sugar cube?" she called again.

Suddenly, the silence was shattered by a outbreak of barking snarling. "What the?!" Brier took off for the far side of the corral as the doors to the house flew open and the yard was flooded with light from the porch. "Something's after the stock! Pa, grab the guns!" Mr. Mcaslin's voice echoed across the yard.

"Celyn!" Brier shouted over the caribou's bellows of confusion and fright.

The black female tore around the corner of the corral and came to a halt, not believing what she was seeing. Just outside the corral were two figures fought each other in a furious frenzy of claws and teeth. A large, burly brown wolf twisted it's head around to snap at the cream form on it's back. Celyn had latched herself firmly onto the wolf's back, her teeth sinking into the wolf's neck as she clawed it's sides. The wolf howled in pain and