The sunset was beautiful, casting amber rays over Balto’s boat and laying long shadows across the ground. A shape sat atop the boat, silhouetted by the fading light, staring off into the distance toward its source. She closed her bright blue eyes, lowering and shaking her head.

“This is so unfair…” she whispered aloud to herself.

Aleu wished she could come up with something aside from that to think about the situation, but nothing would come; the memories of what seemed to be blatant prejudice against her would always crop up whenever she tried to think reasonably. Since Rosy’s family had decided to keep her and her three siblings after they were born a couple of years ago, they all still lived at home, and had to answer to their parents. Kodiak was the first of the litter; he was gone more often than the others, since he was training to be the lead dog for a sled team, but he hadn’t had to go to live with different owners yet. Saba was the second; she stayed at home whenever she could, having always had a strong bond with Jenna. Dingo was the third; he liked going out and experiencing the town, but he was content not to be living on his own. Aleu was the fourth; she had the wildest spirit of the foursome, most likely because she had inherited so much wolf from her father, in looks and heart. Ever since she was far younger, when Balto had told her stories of wolves and stories of when he was a puppy, she had always longed deep inside to live the free, untamed life of a wolf. She was still loyal to her parents, but the part of her that wanted to be independent never went away, and now, being loyal to her parents was becoming difficult. Or rather, being loyal to her father was becoming difficult. The other day, Balto had permitted Saba to join a male friend for a late-night dance at the dog’s restaurant. Aleu loved her sister, and wouldn’t have minded in the least but for the fact that later the same day, her father refused the same privilege to her. She had seen in his eyes how much it had hurt him to do so, but she had been deeply hurt as well, and couldn’t bring herself to feel sympathy for him, nor to prevent herself from feeling angry with him. True, she loved him, and she knew it wasn’t right for her to think so badly of him…but he could be so annoying! This sort of situation had happened before, many times; her brothers and sister were allowed more extensive and more frequent liberties than she was, and she noticed it. It didn’t seem to happen with her mother, though; just her father. “Why does he do this sort of thing?” Aleu wondered, frustrated again by just not understanding why Balto treated her like she was still such a little kid. She was still quite young, but then again, so were all of her siblings, so that didn’t explain the preferential behavior. “I just don’t get him,” she thought, sighing. She reminisced about her relationship with her father. It had started out quite beautifully; she followed him everywhere, loving the way he could be ready to play at almost any moment. She remembered how he would give her rides, with her standing on his back, her paws clinging to his rough fur, laughing as he loped back and forth along the beach by his boat endlessly. She remembered how he used to sing her lullabies in Itera, the language of the wolves, and how he would cuddle with her as she fell asleep. She had felt more strongly connected to her dad, seeing as how he looked part-wolf the same as she. However, things had changed. Now, she felt distant from Balto, her bitterness and resentment separating her from him more and more with every passing grievance. She felt lost and helpless, as if she were trapped in some sort of maze to which there may or may not be an exit. It had been this way for what seemed like forever. “Is there anything I can do?!?” she cried out loud, her eyes brimming.

Aleu had tried talking to Balto about how she felt before, but she felt like it accomplished nothing. “He’s so set in his ways,” she thought, her anger feeling like venom in her blood. “Try talking sense to him. I don’t know how Mom puts up with him; how can you love someone who’s that unreasonable?” Tears began running down her cheeks, a mixture of pain, anger, and guilt at her thoughts torturing her. “Maybe I should talk to him again,” she thought. “Forget it!” another part of her replied. “I’m getting sick of feeling like I’m talking to a wall.” She went down the ramp off of Balto’s boat, heading into town, ultimately arriving at Rosy’s house. “I hope Dad isn’t here,” she thought. Her hope was granted; only her mom came to see who was there. “Aleu?” Jenna said with concern, drying some of the tears from her face. “Why are you upset?” Aleu sobbed, but then managed to speak. “Can I talk to you about something, Mom?” she asked. “Absolutely,” Jenna replied, walking her into the living room, where they laid down on a couch. “What did you want to talk about?” Jenna asked. Aleu began reluctantly. “Well…it’s about Dad.” “What about him?” “It’s…it’s the way he treats me. For some reason, with him, Kodi and Saba and Dingo are perfectly okay going out and doing things on their own, having fun, making their own choices, and stuff like that, but I’m not! Dad still acts like I’m a little puppy and that I can’t handle things. I mean…I really don’t want to sound like a whiner, but how is it fair that they get that freedom and I don’t?!?” She began sobbing hard, and Jenna held her gently. “Calm down, honey,” she said. “Just take a few deep breaths.” Aleu tried to do so, but she just ended up continuing her venting. “I get so angry at him sometimes! I am so sick of him babying me!” Jenna put her paw on the sides of Aleu’s head. “Hang on, Aleu, before you say something you don’t mean.” Aleu nodded and buried her head in Jenna’s shoulder, grateful for a chance to cry. “What am I going to do, Mom?” she moaned. “I hate feeling like this.” “Well…I’m not exactly sure what advice to give you. I do want to tell you about your dad, though. He worries himself sick over you, you know? He loves you so much that when he thinks about you, tears come to his eyes. All he’s trying to do is raise you the best he can.” “But why is it so different for me than it is for the others?” Jenna thought for a moment. “You know, Aleu, I think you’d best talk to your dad about this.” “But Mom, when I talk to Dad, I feel like he’s shutting me out. He doesn’t listen to me! That’s why he doesn’t understand how I feel!” “Maybe you only think he’s shutting you out. Maybe you should try just a little harder and see what happens.”

That night, Aleu went out to Balto’s boat again, knowing that he was there visiting Boris, Muk and Luk. She always dreaded going to talk to him about how she felt, not because it ever made him become angry with her, but because she hated the things her frustration made her think about him, things that she knew no one should think about a parent. “Maybe I should just let out my anger at him,” she thought. “Maybe if I really let him have it, it’ll finally get my point across.” She entertained this idea for a few minutes before rejecting it, feeling ashamed. “I wish I didn’t even have to do this,” she thought. Before she knew it, she reached the boat. “Let’s get this over with.” She took a deep breath and walked up the wooden plank that led onto the deck. “Dad?” she called, pushing the reluctance from her voice. “Dad? Are you here?” She heard footsteps, and her father came out from the wheelhouse. He brightened when he saw her. “Hi, darling!” he said happily, walking over and nuzzling her. “How are you?” “You tell me,” Aleu thought, but she ignored it and spoke. “I’m okay.” Balto gave her a kiss. “I’m glad you came to see me. Did you want something?” “Um…yeah, I did. Mind if we talk for a minute?” “Not at all.” They sat down facing each other. “Go ahead,” said Balto, and Aleu nodded. “Okay. Um…you know a few days ago, when there was that dance…” It seemed that Balto knew what Aleu was going to say; his expression showed regret already. However, he kept silent and let her continue. “I…I was wondering why you said it was alright for Saba to go, but not me? I just want things to be equal. There’s so much I want to do, but I don’t get the chance to because I have to go through you. Please, Dad? I don’t want more; just the same that the others get.” Aleu could tell Balto was struggling to find a way to explain. “Aleu…I know it isn’t fair…” “For heaven's sake, then why do you do it?!?” Aleu couldn’t stop herself this time, and it obviously wounded Balto. He lowered his head, getting himself together. “I’m sorry, Dad,” Aleu said, not sure whether or not she meant it. After all, it had felt good to finally tell him what she really thought. Still, at the same time, something told her it was wrong. She truly hated that voice sometimes, and now was one of them, but it was too insistent to ignore. Balto nodded his forgiveness and continued. “The thing is…you and Saba are the same age, and I think you both have maturity, but you…well, let’s just face it; you look like me, and Saba looks like your mom.” Aleu didn’t see how that had anything to do with her predicament. “I know. Why does that matter?” she asked, confused.

Balto sighed. “Here’s the thing, Aleu. I let Saba go because others are okay with being around her. On the other hand, if you had gone, some dogs might have been…a little leery of you, or might have mistreated you…because you look like me, like a wolf. Don’t you remember how when you were a puppy, people wouldn’t let their kids pick you up or pet you because you looked like a wolf?” Aleu did remember such things; many times she had wished to play with humans, but had met with refusal from their side. It had continued up until the present, but in different forms. Even so, she still didn’t understand why Balto was bringing it up. Assuming that a point was coming, she just nodded. “Other dogs did it to you, too,” Balto said. “They didn’t trust you enough to