wolf’s breath had left on him. His legs still shook with fear, but then he looked over at Kira. She was asleep, the wear and tear from her injuries finally taking its toll. He wondered if the wolf had seen or smelled her, but his stomach all of a sudden burbled and groaned inside him. The ravens could have eaten the whole deer by now, or what was left of it.

He burst out of the cave and waded through the black flock to protesting screeches and squawks. His teeth tore into the bloody flesh and ripped away a chunk. Dusty dashed back to the shelter, dragging the meat behind him. He flopped down beside Kira and laid the food at his side, resting his head on his paws but keeping his red-brown eyes open.

Kira’s eyes flicked open at the smell of meat, and she smiled gratefully. “You got food? Wow. Did you kill a whole caribou while I was asleep or something?”

Dusty would’ve liked to show off, to tell her he could hunt and had been able to kill a wild beast, but she would know he was lying. With a half-hearted grin he told her, “Actually, I kind of…scavenged. There’s a deer kill outside the cave, and I just got some food from there. I don’t know how to hunt.” He was going to tell her about the wolf, but her expression distracted him.

Kira studied him, her blue-green eyes cooling to a bright, calm cerulean Dusty had never seen before. “You know what? You’re an okay dog, Dusty,” Kira murmured.

Baffled, Dusty nevertheless smiled and pushed the meat to her. She took a bite and ate, but once again her head fell onto her paws and soon she was dreaming fitfully.

Dusty shook his head and ate some of the meat, too, chewing slowly and swallowing as he rolled the taste around in his mouth. Like Kira, he managed to get past the bloody flavor, and after awhile he found himself enjoying the meat. ‘Maybe I have more wolf in me than I realized,’ he thought.

Dusty looked down at the meat and at his own stained paws, and found himself wishing that in the future he wouldn’t have to kill for them to stay alive. He realized in disgust that his wish was not because of his dog blood or wolf blood, but because of himself and his fear.

That night, Dusty felt himself falling down the staircase of sleep and into a dream awash with pale, watery color and hollow sound. Dreams had never been a recurring pleasure for him; when he fell asleep at night it was usually to blackness, total darkness inside his head until he woke. This time he could feel his mind and heart racing as he felt himself shrinking down to puppy size. His paws were clumsy and too big for his body, but his thoughts remained as a more mature dog’s.

Suddenly he felt his brother and sisters around him. He didn’t have to turn to look; he just knew they were there, and for some reason he was comforted.

The stale smell of cardboard filled his nose, and he found himself looking over the rim of a box as people looked down at him and poked him from all sides. He felt fearful, but his tail started wagging as soon as he saw children coming. In a moment his mind had been submersed in the innocent happiness of a young pup. His new pup-like consciousness was only aware of the joy of the day and the wonder of children.

One little girl stared at him and said, “Mommy, why is he so small? He looks like a mouse!”

“And his coat is weird,” proclaimed another kid.

“I wanted a sled dog,” an older boy said, “But a shrimp like him would never make it!”

Dusty was shocked at the comments from the kids. Ever since he could hear and talk, his parents had told him kids were playful and nice, better than grown-ups. He was stung to find out that he had been taught a lie.

He listened as his siblings were given a similar appraisal, but none of them seemed to mind as much as he did. He started to worry that something was wrong with him, that he wasn’t supposed to be so sensitive to comments from others.

Other, older dogs traipsed by the cardboard box and inspected him, raising their eyebrows in disbelief. “They’re all beautiful, Jenna,” one female dog said, but Dusty could feel her real thoughts emitting from the dog like waves. She was surprised at how small and weak he and Chase seemed, but he knew he was the one she was most disappointed in, he just knew it. Distaste and disgust radiated from all the dogs that observed his litter.

Dusty’s ears drooped, and he ignored Copper when his brother started tugging on his ear, wanting to play. Copper persisted, pulling Dusty to the ground. Dusty snapped at him and let out an irritated bark, but he was horrified when Copper just laughed and pinned him down with a paw. Dusty struggled to get up, and blinked back tears when he couldn’t get up under Copper’s hold. In frustration he twisted and jerked, and finally felt so humiliated he piped a little howl. Startled, Copper stepped back while cocking his head.

Dusty lunged upwards and sunk his teeth into a cardboard flap. It tasted hard and stale, but he ignored the flavor; he just needed an anchor to hang onto so he could concentrate on something besides his weakness. Angry thoughts flashed through his head, and he bit harder and harder as each one passed. Why couldn’t he be as strong as Copper? Why did he have to have such a weird, different coat? Why couldn’t he be perfect like everyone expected him to be?...

Dusty felt his body grow and change and his mind-set become more adult as time passed and he gradually became a teenager. He discovered his love of running, but as he ran through the streets of Nome he could hear and sometimes imagine the comments the other dogs made as they watched him whiz by: “How can he even hold himself up with those skinny legs of his?” “Copy-cat. I bet he’s just trying to make Kodi look bad by running better than him. Jerk.” “Does Dusty ever talk? He’s either mute, or he thinks he’s too good for the rest of us.” “With fur like his, you couldn’t miss him in a crowd!”

On and on the comments and criticisms went as the months flew by in his dream. At last Dusty only saw the empty road ahead of him as he lined up at the start, his heart pounding, hoping, praying, that he wouldn’t make the mail team. It would only be another chance for others to judge and make fun of him, especially his older brother.

CRACK!

“Huh!” Dusty’s eyes shot open at the sound of the starting gun. He jerked upwards and was about to wake Kira to warn her, when he blinked stupidly. It had only been a dream.

Gasping, he threw himself out into the freezing night air and struggled to regain his composure. Blurry images whirled through his brain as he slowly calmed.

Memories, he realized. The whole dream had been memories of his puppyhood and pre-teen months. His chestnut eyes widened as he remembered the hate he had felt towards the other dogs, even towards his own family. He knew everyone expected him to be perfect, so he had done his best. Yet he had still fallen short. The frustration he had felt at his failure had turned him against even his own family. Gradually he had disbanded himself from any canine company, and had become the hard, hating, fearful dog he was today. He was afraid to do anything because he was afraid of what others might think of him. Realization had stemmed into perfectionism, yet failure was inevitable; failure stemmed into fear, fear into hate. And here he was: still hurting, still hating, still fearing judgment.

Dusty sat down heavily in front of the dark mouth of the cave so it looked like it was about to swallow him up. The sky was a shimmering black ribbon above him, set with a thin eyelash of moon and a sprinkling of bright stars here and there. It was eerie sitting in the silence, and suddenly Dusty couldn’t take it. He had been silent in the real world for too long.

Dusty’s howl stabbed the blackness. The high, quivering call passed over the moonlit tundra to the ears of any listening creature. Howls from lone wolves taking a rest from their travels echoed back to Dusty, and he felt a golden thrill as he howled again, pure and sweet and clear. Replying calls came back to him, and for the first time in what felt like a long, long time, Dusty smiled.

But his smile morphed into a frown when he remembered his dream and his own imperfections. He quietly padded back inside and lay down beside Kira. Her slow, steady breathing set a resolution inside him. If he was going to survive, he would have to become stronger in body and spirit.

Dusty looked at Kira’s sleeping form. If he couldn’t do it for himself, he would do it for Kira.

Two days later, Dusty was worrying about…everything while helping Kira walk around outside the den. They had no food except for a few scraps. Kira wasn’t getting any better; indeed, she seemed to be worsening. And the prospect of pups coming in less than two months hung over both of them constantly.

Dusty tripped over a stone while lost in his thoughts. He fell with a grunt, but he immediately thought of Kira, and he turned his body to catch her just in time. He lay panting in the snow, and slowly got up after he felt Kira crane herself to her feet. Shaken, he looked at her and asked, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Kira said impatiently, shuddering so snow rippled out of her thick fur, “Look, this isn’t getting us anywhere. I’ll admit to saying my leg is forever busted, and the rest of me isn’t doing too well, either. But we can’t just stay out here for the rest of our lives! We’re dogs, not wild animals! Besides, you’ve got friends and family back in town. You go back to Nome and I’ll