top team in the area, even outrunning their father’s old yet powerful rival, Steele and his team. Denali was no longer a bachelor - he had fallen for a mysterious young female that lived in a nearby town, so he said to his friends and sled-mates. Of course, he was quite secretive, so no one really knew who the female was, but all of the available local females still adored and idolized the white-nosed Denali. Yukon, however, was still single, still awaiting the day when someone would beat her in a challenge race, but also was weeks away from being sent to a new team as lead dog.

Dingo was a part-time sled dog, but had surprised every dog in town when he had gotten his own little sister, Saba, pregnant with a litter of four puppies. Saba was busy raising her quadruple litter, and although she was in an incestuous relationship with her brother, she had no regrets; she admitted that she was in love with her older brother since they were children, and no matter what the future held, she was willing to accept her fate by staying with him forever. 

However, Kodiak, the runty young pup, had never been to same since his father's death. His dream to be a lead dog had faded away the moment he saw his father's limp body. Day after day though, he continued to run on the beach like he had always done before, usually for no real reason at all; it was mainly to loosen up his legs. His human owner knew that he had a special dog – the son of a hometown hero - and soon loaned him out to a small mail team that was in need of one last dog to complete their team. Kodi tried to resist, but to no avail. The wild, racing spirit in him was starting to reawaken inside . . . although there was still a part of him that didn't want to enjoy the thrills of running on a team. After the first day of work, he felt unchanged about his dream of working for a sled team.

Maybe I don't want to do this . . . . 

The other dogs on my team are nice to me and all, but I’m afraid . . .

I fear that behind my back, they’ll only compare me to him . . . only because I’m his son . . . . 

Dad's not here to see me run . . . and tell me how proud he is of me . . . .

Sure, it feels good to run on a team . . . really good . . . but it's not the same . . . . 

Nothing has ever been the same since he left us . . . .

The two-year old went, as usual, to his mother's for advice. He had no one else to turn to, and he had enjoyed being with his mom, especially since she used to be so close to his father. 

"Mom?" He called out as he went into the back section of the house. He knew his mother would most likely be in the barn, either sleeping or talking with someone. "Mom? Are you in here?"

"Kodi?" She poked her head from behind a small bale of hay to see her son looking at her. Her white face markings were covered in a slight cover of blush, her bandanna of orange was unusually off-angled as she moved out into the open. "My, this is a surprise to see you here!"  

"Yeah, but I really need to talk to you, Mom," the husky sat down, but his mother moved him away to the doorway.

"Sorry, dear. Now's really not a good time . . ." Her face grew to a deeper shade of pink. "I'm kind of busy right now. Do you think that maybe later in a couple of hours perhaps?" 

"Yeah, sure." Kodi said disappointingly, although he began having a bad feeling that something was up with his mother. "Later."

"Bye." his mother returned his farewell and then went back to the hay-bale where a husky of the color of wheat got her into a submissive position and began to mount her. She unwillingly gave in without a struggle, as if it was what she wanted, letting out a slight moaning cry of ecstasy when the other dog continued to thrust against her hind end. The barn’s lantern flame started to flicker as the two giggled and continued their passionate roll in the yellow hay. 

Little did they know, young Kodi was watching, dying inside, quietly gasping in horror, but he ran away with tears in his eyes before the two dogs could notice his presence.

I can't believe this . . . Mom's broken her promise, so I can't trust her anymore . . . I thought she would stay loyal and true to her vow . . . . 

Oh, Dad . . . I don't know what to do anymore . . . Why are things going so wrong?

The twilight sky had begun to cover the setting sun as he ran past his father's old boat and gravesite where the goose waved a hello from the main deck. Kodi, still angry and emotionally-confused by the scene he just saw, just turned away from the gander and continued to run. He needed time to himself at a place he hadn't been to in so long. 

The peak was as high as it ever was as it faced the mount for the first time since he was seven weeks old. But now, he was taller, stronger, and faster than he was as a young pup. The quarter-wolf panted as he walked to a nearby pool of water to get a quick drink to prepare for the long hike, but he took a quick moment to look at what he had become over the past couple of years.

He was about as tall as his father was (from what he remembered of his father’s height), all with the markings of his purebred dam. His body physique was trademark husky: strong, broad shoulders for enduring heavy sled loads; a slender yet muscular mid-area; four long, powerful legs that were bred for running long distances; and a bushy yet clean, two-toned tail, curled up in the traditional style. The one mark that made him stand out was the dark lined markings down his nose to his dark-brown eyes; its zigzagged marks made his face look like he was rugged like a wild animal. 

Well, at least Dad was right about that part . . . about me growing . . . Mom and some others have mentioned that I have grown over the past year . . . .

One foot after the other, he gathered his courage while taking deep breaths, dried his tears, and started to scale the peak one more time. 

Yes, I have changed . . . physically . . .

But my emotional scars since that day have never been able to heal . . . . 

I can’t move on from that day, the day I saw my father’s unmoving flesh with my very own eyes . . . .

He paused from his trek and stared down a nearby cliff, about halfway up the peak. The dark forest pines below him were covered in a navy tint from the horizon as they appeared like sharp pointed arrows and spiky thorns to the red and white quarter-wolf, as if they were luring him to join them. 

Maybe . . . I have no reason to be here anymore . . .

There’s no real purpose for me to stay here and continue to suffer on your memory, Dad . . . 

Maybe I should just end it now . . .

So that at least I’d be with you again . . . . 

After a couple of moments of drifting off into his thoughts, the pup suddenly woke up from his point of serious depression, shaking his head, trying to get the idea of suicide out of his brainwaves.

No, no . . . NO! . . . 

I shouldn’t think like that . . . .

Dad would . . . . 

He stopped his thoughts and continued to climb upward, knowing he was close to the mountain’s apex. He only ran the rest of the way, not thinking about anything else but running – not even about how his father would react if he had learned about him almost killing himself only a few moments ago.

At last, he had arrived at the peak, panting hard from the strain of the rocky road, and slowly moving towards the edge of the peak’s precipice. The burgundy and ivory canine looked over upon the edge at the twilight beauty that was now darkened a shade of navy as millions of glittering speckles of starlight scattered about its nightly cloth. The trees began to sway in the mountain’s valley as the young son sat himself down and gazed at the twinkling lights above him. 

The stars . . . I never noticed there were so many that lit the night’s horizon . . . .

Suddenly, he caught sight of a streaking point of light with the corner of his eye. 

Is . . . is that a shooting star?

Wow . . . How beautiful it flies . . . . 

I wish . . .

Oh, I wish Dad were here watching this sight with me . . . . 

Another shooting star flashed through the sky as an unexpected crackle broke the calm air while the star suddenly started to fall. The husky gasped in fear, afraid of the unknown whereabouts of the sudden noise and the landing of the meteorite.

What was that? Thunder . . . on such a clear night? 

The male heard the sound again – this time, he covered his eyes with his white front paws and began to shake, hoping that whatever caused the now-louder clattering of thunder would avoid him. But something calmed the young pup only seconds later . . . a slightly cold touch on the shoulder that was followed by a warm, familiar voice . . . .

“It’s okay . . . I’m here . . . .” 

It was a voice that he had been missing in so long.

Could it be . . . ? 

Dad?

The burgundy and ivory dog opened his eyes and turned his head. His facial expression turned from fear to surprising joy. 

“Dad?” He managed to get the words out of his mouth. “Is it really you? Are you really here?”

The translucent sight of the grayish-brown wolf-dog smiling in all his glory caused the son to sit up in pure gladness.  

“Let’s sit here and watch the stars, shall we, Son?” The hybrid motioned to the young husky as his almost ghostly form walked to the edge of the pinnacle and sat down; the son did the same, with an urge of excitement in his step and a slight smile on his face.

There they were: Father and Son once again reunited, this time gazing at the starry sky above them. The air was tranquil and serene, with the occasional breeze breathing softly against their fur of red, white, and lucid gray-brown and tan. For a few minutes, all they did was sit there on the slab of rock, without even making a sound or