way to coast, to turn then west. Maybe it was caused by strange and disturbing tales he heard in Buckland. Staying there he was talking with John Ash, Arashi Tazaku’s son-in-law, who was active musher and postman of town. Bucklander told him about some crazy wolves who two years earlier assaulted his sled, killing his leader – Sky, and almost killed him too. Beasts didn’t fear of guns, were unexpectedly intelligent and careful. But what my master ignored and I heard accidentally was that attack on John Ash happened during strange mist, that covered land in spite of frost. I somehow I didn’t link that story with my dream, but when I think about those days I guess that Emma sensed something evil about it. During our way to Nome she was silent and scared, was sleeping always in centre of group, careful to stay close to me and master Lucas. She also was hurrying me to faster run, what surprised all in team, even mr. Marshal.

Fortunately we encounter no wolfpack – however I smelled a distant smell of danger – and master Lucas revolvers as well as rifle stayed unused. Also no unusual aura accompanied us in tour. So about midday of fourth day of way we spotted first signs of town – old cottages, used by hunters in warmer months, also numerous traps. But all of them were empty, as if no one changed them in weeks. About four pm we came to lone forester’s lodge.

It was odd place – coming closer I sensed no human’s presence. Mr. Marshal noticed something was wrong too and stopped to check the house. He was a brave, even fearless man, at least I know him to be like that. But he unharnessed me and took both revolvers ready to use. He hastened me to lead, showing strange uneasiness.

We came to lone cottage, standing on hill over Nome Route. No smoke was coming from chimney and door were open. Master Lucas clenched his grasp in guns, then we both slowed down our steps. I smelled no disturbing aromas, definitely I sensed no smell of body. But that was even more troubling – we should encounter any remnants of food, or at least scent of burned wood. But there was nothing, just is that cottage was lifeless since at least two weeks.

Of course mr. Marshal couldn’t say so much without visual examination, but he confirmed all my suspicions when we entered the house. We found no body, no food, no signs of any fight, lack of supplies and thick layer of ice on most of furniture. Lodge was dead since a long time.

“That’s odd, buddy…” murmured my owner. “Here should be a forester. There was no change in administration here. If previous one resigned, or something happened to him, in a week they should send here someone else. Have you found something?”

I sniffed out all cottage, but I fail to answer what could happened there. I saw a rocking chair, placed just in front of fireplace, right in distance that would allow average human to place his feet in warm proximity of fire. If not an layer of snow on furniture and skid iced to the floor I would swear that in chair should still be seating owner of that lodge. But the strange picture I saw looked as if resident suddenly had vanished, even without backing his chair out from fireplace.

Master Lucas had to think about the same absurd association, because he touched the chair, checking if it was iced to the ground. After that he took another look around, then finally turned down his guns.

“Come on.” He said. “We will report about it in town. Maybe that man is simply living in Nome, after resigning from duty.”

We set off to further way and soon after he came to Nome. It was already after the sunset and we were all glad we reached our destination without need of another camping in forest. But I felt something different – view of town haven’t appeased me, but evoked quite different uneasiness.

Nome was big, but half-dead town. Small village, settled as Anvil City, was merely a trade post before the Gold Rush. But then Nome burst to independent town, biggest in vicinity, calling all adventures, gold seekers and other troubling men from all Alaska. That caused chaotic and mad look of that place. Houses were built quickly, with light attention to art of architecture. Town hadn’t grown in years around its centre – it burst in one sudden explosion of its size that was more similar to cancer than healthy grow. In every building of that place there was something temporally, as if human’s works were just a layer over mysterious and wild land. Nome soil seemed to be ready to shake off the coat of human’s presence and return to state of its unchangeable nature.

As I said, we came there on evening, so I observed Nome only thanks to artificial light, coming from windows of houses. And that view scared me seriously – most of buildings were lifeless. Perhaps their residents were already asleep but it looked as we came to ghost town, inhabited by creatures that live in darkness. Or – what sounded paradoxically better – no inhabited at all.

We went to main square of city, where a negligently-built and rotten boiler room seemed to be sort of kennels for local dogs. Master Lucas exchanged few words with gloomy Nomer in house next to boilers, then opened the gate and led our pack in. Our coming seemed to have minimal impact on local dogs. Just few of them even raised their states when mr. Marshal was unharnessing us and placing in free box of building.

As soon as I was freed and master Lucas went away to find some shelter for himself, I started to examine our hosts. But even short look caused very unpleasant feeling, creeping along my spine. What I initially took as lack of interest was in fact the most sophisticated kind of it. Dogs were looking on us discreetly, observing without any word, pretending their sleep or indifference. Only few – I guess younger ones – showed their curiosity, while rest was just lurking in dark boxes, giving stealthy glances on guests. For short moment I felt like lost dog in forest who is being examined by pack of starved wolves. Those stares were devouring.

“Hallo!” I called into darkness. But there was no response. I came closer to bars, seeing that one of younger dogs was there. I repeated. “Hallo.”

“Hush!” gasped darkfurred husky. Or I thought it was husky. But in fact I came to conclusion I saw wolf hybrid, whose only few ancestors belonged to any breed known to us. He looked as a wolf, only his coat resembled dog. His stare was wild and violent. I involuntary stepped back from bars. “They are sleeping. Are you leaving tomorrow?” he added.

Even after that cold welcome, I was a bit surprised by such a blunt hostility. For few seconds I didn’t know what to answer, but then I replied with all my knowledge.

“I’m not sure. I don’t know exactly what our master want to do here.”

“Here is nothing to do.” Replied hybrid. “Neither for you, nor for your human. It would be good for you to leave soon.”

“I’m Mark of Fairbanks Breeding. What’s your name?” I asked, trying to sound as friendly as I could, seeing odd and harsh stares of locals.

“My name?” asked half husky, sounding very confused. For short second I thought that no one asked him about it earlier and young canine had no name at all. But then – with some effort seen on his muzzle – my interlocutor said. “Gribth. My name is Gribth.”

Then I wondered if that weird name had any diminutive, or mother of that dog called him simply Gribth even in early puphood. But harsh and cold muzzle of local seemed to say that he forget every caress he received from his parents.

“You don’t seem to be hospitable.” I said, giving my voice a tone of joke. But the answer that came to me was completely serious.

“I guess we aren’t.” replied Gribht. “But now be quiet. Elders want to sleep easy this night.”

“What?” I tried one more to establish any friendly chat. “Any full-night-party tomorrow?”

“That’s not your business.” Barked Gribth and I felt that conversation was definitely over. Seeing angry stare of hybrid I turned my eyes down and soon after stepped back to my companions.

Somehow uneasy mood affected all of us – without any word we formed a tight group just next to the wall and nestling to each other, more due to anxiety than cold, we quietly tried to fall asleep. I did it after several minutes of blank watching darkness of boiler room.

In my dream I returned to strange visions I left before Buckland. I saw again the for, or better – I was a fog again. I was floating down from mountains to reach the sea. But that time I recognised more and more details about landscape. Seen from different perspective, forest seemed weird, but I was sure I was watching on pine groves in Nome Area. I wanted to cover the town and all area in front of me and embrace it tight. There was a perverse joy in extinguishing all move and life under my cloudy body – I cherished it with laughter. That laughing had to be quiet, because I had no muzzle to form a sound. The same was Emma – she said no word, she even wasn’t visible, but I was she stayed with me and she was a fog too.

Once I looked aside to see cumulus of light greyness just next to and I sensed her inside. I learned that my body was very similar and we are already joined with our mountain master with unspeakable bound.

I woke with sweat all on my coat.

When I opened my eyes, I noticed as Emma did the same just second before. Out stared met and there was no need to explain. Without any word she stood up and came to me, whispering.

“I don’t want to…”

“Hush, it’s just a dream.” I replied, in the same time knowing that fact we were talking about the same thing made it more real than any eventual dream.

“Could I stay with you?” she asked and not waiting for answer, laid down and hugged to my side. What sounded a bit strange, I was glad about that primary not because she was beautiful female, but because touch of her body, the real body, was giving me some certainness about