long to start the meeting, but in time he realized that they'd already started.  It was not a bold, declarative meeting, but instead a subtle passing of information that seemed almost nonexistent.  Wishing they would speak louder, Juneau squirmed.  As soon as the dark gray elder called his name, however, he forgot to be fidgety. 

"Juneau, is it?"  The friendly twinkle had vanished from the elder's eyes.  He beckoned, and Juneau stepped forward until he was just a foot or so from those great silver-black paws.  Stretching himself to his full height, he took on a grave expression and sat down again before the wolf.  He didn't know it, but the ice around the hearts of those who doubted or shunned him was already beginning to melt.  He'd seemed like a clumsy puppy just minutes before, but now this...

"We have a problem.  You know this."  Juneau nodded silently in response.  "Our alpha is corrupt.  He usurped the lead role after our old leader" -a slight catch in the elder's gruff voice betrayed his emotion- "died."  Juneau nodded, holding captive his own sorrow.  After all, their old alpha leader was his father.  The elder scrutinized him, as if testing his emotional strength.  Then he continued:  "You are the heir of the alpha role now, Juneau.  Of course," -he was answering the questioning gleam in the pup's eyes- "you have other brothers and sisters, and no, they are not with us."  The light in the amber eyes of the pup died.  "Therefore, you are the only existing offspring that we know of to take his place."

"S-sir?"  The elder nodded in response to Juneau's query.  "W-why were we, I mean my brothers and sisters and I - why were we abandoned?"

The elder sighed heavily.  "It weighs on our consciences to this day, my boy.  You see, you're three-quarters wolf, am I correct?"  Juneau jerked a nod.  "But are you not also one quarter husky?"

"Yessir."

"Good.  Well, there are those - including me, at the time - who wished to have a pure-blooded wolf as leader after your father."  (Several of the wolves turned away and would not face Juneau anymore at this point.)  "Bering was a good and noble alpha, standing up for our clan when it seemed we could no longer hold it together.  But anyone could see the half of your father that was dog, just as we can all see it in you."

"Did the wolves, well, really mind that, sir?"  Juneau apprehensively eyed the pack spread around him.

"Yes, they did.  But despite the fact that your father Bering proved their suspicions wrong, they still did not want a half-breed leader to succeed him."

"I - I don't quite understand, sir."

"Neither do I, boy.  Neither do I."  Abruptly the old wolf got to his feet, and the meeting was finished.

The following day, there was yet another meeting; this one, however, was strategic.  Plans of battle were made, and head fighters assigned and consulted with.  Juneau felt rather left out.  Nobody wanted him to fight in an actual battle with their unjust leader.  Rumor had it that Shonee was gathering forces in the form of lone wolves or outcasts.  Soon he would attack the current Northern Heights clan and spirit away the best warriors - unharmed or otherwise.  And so now the plans of war began in earnest. 

Juneau hung around all day, even though his leg was well enough now that it needed no bandage, and missed Uncle Balto and Aunt Jenna and Brite and even Boris, the annoying tag-along Rusian snowgoose-turned-babysitter. 

One day Aspen, who had not had a chance to speak to him since the day of the first meeting, found him slumped along a craggy outcropping.  In an attempt to be positive, she tried to speak to him of things like the exciting yearly hunts they'd had, and how good a little dormouse tasted, but all she got for her trouble were a few small grunts.  Finally she crawled up beside him.  He payed her no mind whatsoever.

"Juneau son of Bering, do you want to know how I got this scar?"  Her eyes pleaded for his interest.

His expression flickered, then cleared.  "How?"

Sighing inwardly with relief, Aspen continued.  "Fighting for my clan when I was only six months old."

She'd definitely peaked his interest.  "Can I do that?"

"Do you really want this?" she retorted, motioning towards the crooked mark blazing a path down her cheek.

"If I can fight for Northern Heights to get it, yes."  Juneau's face was serious, and in it Aspen saw a clear shadow of what Juneau would be.  Strong and honorable, his young face looked much like his father's (and just a little bit like the stubborn scowl that Balto got when he was annoyed or perplexed).

"Then come with me."  Aspen motioned down the slope into a narrow crevice with a flat bottom - perfect for battle practice.  "We'll make a fighter out of you yet."

"You're missing my weak spot by just a little bit," called Aspen a few days later.  "Try to adjust your jump."

Does she even have any weak spots?  Juneau wondered.  But he obediently leaped for a spot on her shoulder, looking for good impact, and he found it.  Aspen went tumbling to the ground, and Juneau was pleased to see that she went rolling over three times before she finally stopped.  "Wow,"  she gasped, "you're not half-bad, kid."  Juneau inflated himself proudly.  In a split second she was lunging at him again, and he barely managed to scoot out of harm's way.  He then proceeded to leap onto her back and used his steady weight to push Aspen down.  Finally a buck on her part threw him to the ground, but she herself was panting hard.  "Good job, Juneau!  Let's call it a day!"

"Let's not!" 

Aspen and her trainee whirled about.  Standing before them was a compact, wiry wolf.  His blue-white fur seemed almost to glow, and his cobalt eyes were piercing and malevolent.  One great black foot after another, he advanced towards them. 

Aspen growled, deep down in her trembling thoat.  In that instant Juneau knew it was Shonee.  As the alpha leaped straight at Aspen, he did the only thing he knew to do.  He impulsively gathered his growing muscles and catapulted himself over the cliff wall.

"Get back here, you!"  Juneau paid no mind to Shonee's roaring command.  He didn't, that is, until a huge paw swiped him cleanly down from the edge of the wall.  Pulling himself into a ball, he bounced like rubber until he hit the bottom. 

"Juneau!"  Aspen was distraught.  Struggling to her paws after a blow from Shonee, she reached desperately for the pup.

"No!  Go!"  Aspen hesitated.  "GO!  NOW!"  She turned at Juneau's command and, with one last pleading look, sped over the cliff side as Juneau had done.  The wolfdog sure hoped she was going for help as he dodged yet another harsh slash from the Northern Heights leader.

Spread over the flat deck of his boat, Balto sure was having a relaxing day.  No sleds to pull, and no pups to babysit.  He paused to wonder whether he would ever have more sons and daughters to care for.  Either way, there was still nothing to do.  He sighed deeply as the midday sun warmed his back.  He flipped over until the entire beach seemed to be upside-down.  That's funny, he mused, it looks like there's a dog running across the sand. 

Then he heard the cries for help.

Rolling to an upright position, Balto barked across the beach.  An answering howl confirmed his uncertain suspicions:  It was a wolf, not a dog.  He ran to it, having all the while a horrible feeling that this involved Juneau in some way.  As he came closer, he saw that it was a female, an orange-yellow color flecked with gold.  Her deep blue eyes were fierce with panic, and the scar under her left eye stood out plainly against her pale, stark face.  "I need your help, Balto!"

"Who are you, and how do you know my-"

"There's no time.  Your nephew is in trouble, and the Northern Heights clan needs you.  Come!"

Balto came.

Pawnee took one last look at the side of the mountain where Aspen had just left to fetch Balto before he turned and galloped away.  He was sure that Juneau needed help, and fast.  He'd had just enough time to alert the clan to Shonee's return, and then given directions for Balto's boat to Aspen, because she was a faster runner than he was.  Now Pawnee needed to put every ounce of his strength into defeating Shonee.  He ran faster, faster, faster to the training grounds that Aspen and Juneau used.  He was so busy pushing himself to speed up that he almost missed the fight raging inside the pit.  Snarling, he leaped in too, without any measure of caution.

Shonee turned from his corner of the chasm.  As Juneau struggled to get free from the vice-grip of the older wolf, the alpha cackled.  "So, yet another inexperienced wimp chooses to be defeated?"

"The brave wimps choose to defeat their chicken-hearted leader," said Pawnee with spirit.  He took a step closer to the two figting canines.

Juneau used this opportunity to wrench himself free of his oppressor's clutches.  As Shonee spluttered, enraged by the 'second wimp's' comment, the wolfdog pup turned tail and ran.