Proven Worthy

(started 1/15/08 – ) 

Summary: Two young huskies, Black Spruce and Starlight, were born and bred as sledding dogs – the pride of their town’s transportation system. The younger Black Spruce is confident on his strength and the name he has been given, but his sister is unsure of how her own name will affect herself and the future that awaits her. But when times call for a hero to arise, can these two huskies step up against the odds and prove to everyone, including themselves, that they are worthy of their given names?

Rating: PG for possible blood, death, dangerous peril and other types of dangers . . . oh, and a bit of foul language – just a couple of swears, that’s all. Dog sledding is a dangerous sport, eh? 

Disclaimer: This is an original piece of fiction with original characters created by me. The story is fictional too, although I based it off of the dangerous life of being a sled dog and life way back when in 1920s Alaska. I have no idea where exactly this takes place, but it’s pretty fictional.

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Section I

Part I - Beginning 

The terrain was rough and snowy, and others sensed the chance for the roughest snowstorm of the winter season; despite the dangers of traveling within the vicinity, somehow I knew we could handle it.

We were a team, my brother and I – together, we could do anything. Even if we had to make the biggest sacrifice to get the job done, so be it. It was our motto, our law . . . no job could be too tough for us. This mission was necessary to complete . . . and someone out there needed us to help, but there was another reason why we had to do it . . .  

The two of us were born for this lifestyle . . .but we had to prove our worth, our loyalty, our honor . . . and we had to do it alone.

- - - 

We were the only pups of our parent’s litter – Mother’s first. Both Mother and our father were sledding dogs, and clearly it was in our blood. I remember Mother was a typical gray and white Siberian with gentle eyes of bright blue, born and bred for pulling sleds. Master called her May-Belle sometimes, and her collar plate said “Belle”, but my brother and I called her Mother – we had to, and that was the only name she accepted from us. She was small but thanks to the lineage of our long-past ancestors, she was built with enough endurance to survive any storm and run many miles.

Our father was a different story. Mother never revealed his name to us, but said that she would never be able to forget his icy stare as he placed his seed within her. Father always said he didn’t like the fact that females were now pulling human-weighted dogsleds; he was a very chauvinistic yet purebred black and white Malamute, Mother told me one day when I curiously asked. Apparently, we weren’t the only ones he had helped bring into existence. He only thought that the best use for females was for males to have their way with them and leave them once they swell up with pup . . . 

Well, that’s exactly what he did to our mother anyway . . . they were inside Master’s barn while he was away on a sled run when we were made. Mother was afraid to see him after that night we were created. She did mention to me that she enjoyed being by his side before they grew close enough to mate, but his rough attitude towards females was starting to become too dangerous for her to stay with him much longer, especially after noticing him hitting one of his other concubines in the shadows of a midtown alleyway. It was hard afterwards for her once she learned of her pregnancy and secretly left him – she always had to watch her step, for she was still afraid of running into him again while she carried us. She hardly left Master’s barn, only coming out when Master asked for her and when she needed a bit of fresh air when Master’s other dogs returned from their sled run – although she said to us that she wished she ran away into the woods to bring us into the world like our much wilder cousins, the gray wolves. She thought she could make it out there herself, but she chose to stay in the tame-land, for Master’s sake.

About a few weeks later, we were born out on the lonely streets – there wasn’t any warm places left to give birth that night . . . it was one of the coldest nights I could ever remember actually. Mother was walking home alone when we began to move inside her, preparing to be born. She went to the closest alley that she could and laid there, enduring the contractions of labor by herself. She told me it felt like it lasted for hours before she felt a puppy begin to come out of her and fall onto the ground. I remember feeling the frosty chill that touched my newborn skin, causing me to whimper and shiver as my body lay on the snowy ground. I was the first born, and my brother slipped out only minutes later, but I remember the warmth of Mother’s scent that surrounded her tail, cloaking around me like a thin blanket. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. Thankfully, Mother led us to Master’s nest so that she could rest and recover and we could get the necessary serum of life from her teats. 

We grew by Mother’s side, staying loyal to Master and his rules. Once we could see and walk at a couple weeks old, Mother took us outside into the bright sunshine. My first memory of it was closing my eyes tightly as a blinding brightness that felt warm to my skin. Once I opened my eyes after recovering, everything was clear again. I saw many things for the first time: buildings, people, other dogs, and Master. Master had a couple of young humans of his own, so ever since then, they usually played with us whenever they were allowed to. It was fun to catch a piece of rope and pull one end tightly with my teeth as either one of the small humans or Brother tightly clutched the other end. Mother told us that playing while young would prepare us for some situations that may await us later on in life . . . Yeah, like tugging a rope would really come in handy.

Brother and I also enjoyed pouncing and play-fighting with each other in a nearby grassy part of town where many of the other local dogs came together when the weather was nice and sunny. Mother usually laid down for a warm doze or chatted with other husky parents and fellow sled dogs while we and the other puppies had fun in the mid-spring sun. Once the two of us got tired, we joined Mother underneath a small sapling that Master had planted a year before we were born and slept comfortably against Mother’s gray fur. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Part II – Names and Loss 

When we were about eight weeks old, Master named us, which was much different than what us dogs usually would do. With canines, we would usually give pups their names hours after she-dogs gave birth to their litters, usually with them being named by both the sire and the dam. However, Master had this strange connection with us and his other teams of dogs – it was as if he could just look at a dog and bless it with a name that would one day help show its worth. Mother said that he observed our actions and gestures while we grew up so Master could create the perfect name that truly suited us when he was ready to name us.

He was a strange human and his methods of doing things were just as awkward, but he had a natural way with huskies and other dogs that made all of us respect him. Mother told us that we were lucky to be in the company of such a kind man because there were many other Masters that would mistreat and abuse their teams of dogs. She said that Master learned that the best way to have a champion team was to treat the dogs as if they were your children . . . I guess that’s how Mother gained his trust when she was young. 

Brother was first to be named – he was dark black all over, almost like Father, but he had no white markings on him, with exception for a patchy mark over his left eye. His eyes were kind and green like a newborn plant, one that has just broken through the surface of the earth and begun to bud into a sprout underneath the springtime sun. Master named him Black Spruce; apparently, a spruce was a type of tree, a tall and strong one to be exact . . . and the black . . . well, his coat was dark as the shadows. Mighty and majestic was meant to be his fate, I suppose.

I was nervous by Master’s presence in front of me, but his gentle eyes and calming touch of his gloved hand made me feel unafraid. I could tell he admired my design, and whenever I looked at my own reflection, I could see why – my coat was more like Mother’s, except the gray and white fur mixed all over. When a light source hit it, Mother said I shone almost like starlight, and my eyes were blue like the purest sapphires on Earth. I suppose Master dubbed me as Starlight because of what she had said or maybe because I looked like the silvery stars in the sky in his eyes, but I’m actually not very sure. 

But . . . Starlight . . . Why Starlight?

Did that mean I was to become part of the stars? Was I going to die before my time? Is that what my name would cause to happen in my future? 

After I returned to Mother, I cried at her paws. I was afraid of my name and the fate that was most likely connected to it. Brother wasn’t afraid of his new title at all – Damn, I envied his courage and bravery . . . boys can be overconfident sometimes – but both he and Mother reassured me that my name was not a death sentence.

“We’ll all die one day,” Mother told me that night. “but we shouldn’t be worried about that so much. Enjoy the life and the chances that you’ve been given, and one day, destiny will shine down on you and you will be deemed worthy of your name. I promise.” 

“Yeah, Sis,” Brother added to Mother’s

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