The Wild Melody

(started 12/27/06 -) 

Summary: What if Aleu was adopted by a human on that fateful adoption day? What if her father never told her the truth about her heritage? What if a life with a human wasn't exactly as wonderful as what Aleu hoped it would be? And what does a young gray wolf named Fury have anything to do with this whole story?

Note: This is only a one-shot "What if" story, almost like my other fic, "Proud of Your Boy." I just thought that there would be an even more interesting story than WQ if Aleu ended up being adopted (despite her father's worries). Of course, it would just be boring if her human was normally happy and such. XD Just my typical turn of events. 

Rating: PG-13 for animal cruelty situations (major stuff off-screen), violence and blood (again, mostly off-screen), cursing, teenage rebellion, smoking/drinking references and other stuff. You were warned.

Disclaimer: Balto, its films, and its characters are the property of Universal Studios Inc. The situations and fan-made characters (such as Fury, for example), also including the fan-names of Yukon or Denali, are the creative properties of me, Juuchan17, and should not be used without my permission. 

Thanks and enjoy the story!

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Author's Note: 

Hey, it's me again.

Yet again, I'm writing an alternate storyline fic - this time Aleu, the wolfish-looking member of the WQ6, is once again the focus of this tale. As I've mentioned many times, Balto: Wolf Quest is my favorite sequel out of the Balto series, and Aleu is one of my favorite characters to develop and write about. 

I know that Aleu's wolfish looks and actions as a child eventually led her to becoming a leader of a wolf pack (many thanks to Aniu), but I'm sure many other fans have wondered: What if Aleu was adopted by a human? What if Balto ended up not telling Aleu about her looks and wolf blood? What if she never ran away? Would her ultimate destiny change for the better or for the worse?

So I started writing this story. The first part of this tale is mostly a detailed version of the adoption scene (except without the song . . . I think my descriptions will set the scene better than the song will, thanks), using a script of WQ and screenshots for reference. The rest of the story . . . well, that's all mine after Aleu gets adopted. I’d like to say that this is one of those stories that a lot of fans have been waiting for . . . I just hope I don’t make Aleu seem to be as annoying as WQ made her to be! She had a lot of potential to be a tough canine, if only the right situations come along, I suppose. 

And, of course, I made a character especially for the story: Fury. He’s a character who’s shrouded in mystery: he is a full-bred wolf with a rebellious motive. Somehow, he ends up befriending Aleu and tries to get her to join him. Why, I'm not sure myself, but there are some other things that he stirs up, so I’ll leave those for the story to mention – as a surprise.

Again, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy! 

- Juuchan17

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Part ONE - A Dream Come True?

The day was sunny and bright in the town of Nome as the townspeople began to function on their daily routine, traveling up and down the slightly dusty dirt pathways topped with a few tiny pebbles. The air was still slightly chilly, which wasn't odd for such a far northern town in the early summer. The Alaskan Territory was much different than the rest of the United States, but by the look of things, the quaint and homey sight of the small town surrounded by the sparkling sea and spectacular mountain views was just as normal as any other small city anywhere else. 

With exception for the fact that it would occasionally snow a little flurry in the summer months, Nome was simply a normal town in the mid 1920s.

Most of the people were busy working: a team of sled dogs and their musher, Mr. Simpson, had just left Mr. Conner, the local postmaster, and began traversing through a slushy path to a nearby town, following their regular schedule to deliver and retrieve mail via the United States Postal Service; the meat butcher was at his meat shop, slicing the next prime cuts for his paying customers; the sound of a nail being hammered into a piece of wood came from the shop of the carpenter, Mr. Johansson, who was busy on his latest orders of custom-made handicrafts and woodwork; the telegraph machine beeped out numerous messages, each being translated from Morse Code to plain English for locals, while other messages were sent from the white-haired worker's old, but still nimbly quick fingers, tapping dots and dashes to many places far outside of their tiny town; and many other novelty shops and general stores were crowded with locals, shopping for food, necessities, and other supplies. 

The people that mostly stood out were the couples of young parents that walked hand-and-hand with their young children who giggled in their air of typical childish innocence. A couple of them played in the streets, running and playing tag with each other, much to the dismay of their parental guardians.

All was simply normal and typical hustle and bustle - 

"Ahhhhhwwwooooooooooooo . . . ."

Until the high sound of a echoing howl broke through the constantly growing pile of noisy street jumble. 

"Ahhhhhwooooo . . . Ahhwooooooo . . . ."

It continued again, coming from a tiny corner of a shop porch made of wood. It was an open wooden box, filled with a litter of six puppies. Five of them sat up against the interior edges of the top, covering their ears with their tiny white paws, while the sixth pup, colored in light brown and scruffy fur, proudly let out a howling cry from the center of the box, lifting its front tan paw as if by natural habit. 

"Ahhhhhwooooooo . . . ."

The pup was hushed, thanks to a small nudge by its mother; she was a beautifully elegant Alaskan Husky of a pure burgundy-red coat and ivory-white markings. She donned a red-orange bandanna that covered her neck like a collar, but dared not to take away from her perfectly pierced eyes of light hazel-brown. Her figure was dainty and thin, from her sculpted head, thin ankles, tiny paws, all the way to the tip of her raised two-toned tail, which was curved inward in the style of traditional huskies. 

"Aleu honey, please don't howl like that," she gently scolded her child.

At the sudden silence of their sibling's loud racket, the remaining five began to loosen their grip to their ears. One pup, a dark red male with white markings down his chest and around his muzzle let out a relieving sigh as he allowed himself to hear again. 

"Sorry, Mama," the howling pup, a female, apologized, lowering her ears in shame. "It just happens when I'm excited."

The mother knew the real reason why her daughter howled that way as she gazed at the approaching four-legged figure of her mate. He wasn't as well-groomed as the purebred female, but his scruffy wild looks didn't matter to her at all; she knew that he was braver and kinder than any other canine that she knew of in town, whether they were purebred or not.  

It had only been a few months since he, a youngling mutt cursed with both wolf and husky blood, had gone against all odds to safely search out a lost champion sled team of dogs and bring life-saving serum to the growing number of sickly townspeople in a terribly blinding blizzard of snowfall. He successfully led the team back to Nome, becoming a hero to all, and by saving the life of her young master named Rosy, he had also become the true love of the purebred husky's life. Only a while later, he had conceived within her their first litter of puppies, which were born by the early springtime - the season of new life.

Of course, they both knew that there was a chance that some of their children would end up inheriting the looks of their father, who indeed could be passed as being an actual wolf. The hybrid hoped that it wouldn't happen, due to his haunting memories of being teased and laughed at for having a wolf mother and a husky father. 

They couldn't help making me this way . . . They were in love . . .

He would remind himself day after each passing day before that winter when he suddenly turned from being a scorned mangy tramp - the town outcast - into a "good dog" - a hero nonetheless.  

It's not my fault that I look like a wolf . . . It's not my fault that I wish to live more like a husky than a wild animal . . . .

I just hope that when I have children, none of my own will ever endure the same torturous bullying that I had to as a pup . . . 

I just want them to be normal . . . to live a life that I wish I was born into living . . . .

A life filled with love . . . . 

But once again, fate's accursed paintbrush was not in his paws.

Out of his sextuplet litter, only one, his eldest daughter, was passed down the look of her wild ancestors. As he took his first glimpse down at the squirming newborn as she, at only a few hours old, pushed her way through her other red siblings to the comfort of her mother's light pink teats on her belly, the proud father instantly christened her with a name - one that sounded as wild as the heritage in which she was born to imitate, although it would always be hidden from her . . . for her own safety. 

"Aleu . . . I'll name her Aleu . . . ."

The father now stood beside the mother of his offspring, looking at the bundles of joy as they awaited the beginning of what was to become a life-changing point in their young eight-week old lives. With his wolfish looks, he