The pups followed the large white wolf. Aniu plowed through the snow, her chest acting like a boat keel, her splayed paws sinking through the snow. “Keep up.”

The snow storm blinded the wolf pups, struggling to keep up behind her. The strongest wolf pup was struggling in front, tripping, and sinking through the icy snow. The next strongest followed, and the link of five pups followed in the same way, all the way to the very end of the chain, where the Beta pup miserably plowed on.

The lead pup, a large, pure white one, scrabbled to get a foot-hold. Behind him, his unnamed siblings did the same. Aniu was leading them over a hill, the snow hitting their faces like small, sharp objects.

“Here,” Aniu gasped. “We’ll be safe here.”

Then, a single shot of gunfire rang out through the storm. One of the pups, a black one with white flecks fell. The wolves scrambled. Aniu was followed by the white wolf, and a brown one. A small wolf, with two brown colors in his coat, crouched low. Another of his brothers and sisters fell. She had a bright silver coat, and a black muzzle. The small brown pup had always admired her coat coloration. Then, another shot, quite close at hand, sounded, and the brown pup shot into the air, and ran toward a series of trees, blindly wobbling this way and that. What had happened to the others? Were they safe? Had his mother escaped?

Many noises came to his ears. He still couldn’t see. Finally, with one huge effort, he stepped out into a bright, crowded area. Then, all was black.

___ ___ ___

When the small pup awoke, he was on a solid, warm surface, instead of the crunching, ice-cold bite of the snow. He looked up. Before him stood a strange creature. It was white, with an orange beak. The pup cocked his head to one side. This wasn’t Aniu. He emitted a low whine to announce his presence. The creature turned to look at him.

“There you are.” It said. “I am Boris. I suppose I will be taking care of you until you are able to live on your own.”

“What do you mean?” The pup stood. He was about the same size as this animal. “I’ve lived on my own for a long time. But thanks for helping me.”

“Hmm,” Boris muttered. “I’ll say. You collapsed on one large pile of snow. I’m surprised that you didn’t freeze to death.”

The pup snorted. “At least I thanked you.”

Boris laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that. Anyway, what’s your name?”

“I don’t have one.’ The tan wolfling stood.

“Don’t you have a family?”

He shook his head. “I don’t have that either.’

Boris’ eyes widened in surprise. “Then, we’ll both stay here. We can live on this.” He gestured at the floor that the two were on. The pup looked down. It was then that he realized that he was standing on a broken ship. Maybe it had crashed because of the same reason that he didn’t have a mother....

“And you’ll need a name,” Boris said. “Although, I’m thinking that the villagers will probably give you one.”

“Villagers?”

“Yes,” Boris answered. “This is the town of Nome. Didn’t you know that?”

The pup shook his head. “I’m from the wilderness, remember? I’m new here.” The wolfling sat down. “What are we going to eat?”

Boris grinned at the wolf cub. “That’s where you come in.”

¯¯¯¯ ¯¯¯¯ ¯¯¯¯

To be continued in “Will of the Spirited”

This story is how I believe Balto had become a part of Nome. Fire and Ice is part one of a series that will link together. This is before Balto has a name, and when he knows very little of the world.