Balto: The Valkar

 

All characters, creatures, titles, this story as a whole are copyright © 2009 Aljan Darkmoon except the original Balto characters from Balto, Balto 2: Wolf Quest, and Balto 3: Wings of Change.

 

Story(ies) in this story:

“A Wolf’s Rose” By Aljan Darkmoon

( http://baltosource.timduru.org/fic/A_Wolf_s_Rose/2-1-6787.html)

 

 

Chapter 1

 

 Balto lay on the porch of his mate’s girl Rose’s house, his head in his paws.  It was late morning and spring had come to Nome, Alaska.

He couldn’t believe how many days have gone by since…well, everything.  Only close to three years had passed since the Serum Run of 1925; less than  two years when his daughter, Alue, led Aniu’s Chosen Pack across the Pacific Ocean to Russia and his son, Kodi, and his mail sled team historically beat a bush plane in a race for the delivery service.  It had come to be called the Dog-Plane Race of 1927.  

Though in so little time, it seemed Balto’s life had flashed before his eyes without him knowing. 

He had once been an outcast; kicked, spat, and jeered at because of his half-breed status and blood; and now he was one of many familiar faces whom everyone knows and respects. Even his children are recognized and respected by human and dog alike.  He wondered if his mate; Jenna, a beautiful rusty colored husky with a milky underside; felt the same way.  No matter adventure they had together, their love and teamwork had helped them through every event, conquering and overcoming obstacles whenever they came.

Balto’s nose twitched and he thought he smelled Boris, the Russian goose, and the polar bear cubs, Muk and Luk.  He sighed. Boris had long since taken his leave of Nome and migrated back to Russia with his new found love, Stella, a goose who was on vacation during the time of the Dog-Plane Race of 1927.  Quite smitten, the old goose was torn between Balto, whom he had raised since puphood, and Stella, a dashing and enchanting visitor from his home country.   Balto relieved him of the pain by taking him aside and reminding him that he had stayed for so long until ‘Balto could stand on all four feet’ and until his sons and daughters could as well.  “You need a vacation, Boris,” Balto had said to the grumpy goose.  “Go on.”

“But—“

“Boris, there are few times in a lifetime you can find the perfect moment of peace.  Jenna and I found ours.  I believe this is your chance to find yours.”

The goose sighed. “So the chick has grown to a rooster. Alright, I will. “ He glanced back at Nome, where his ‘nieces’ and ‘nephews’ had grown, where Balto had grown. “But I’ll be back to visit.  When that time comes I better not find all of you in pieces.”  He wagged a fore feather at Balto.  The wolf-dog laughed.

“Just get used to not having to be so weary of pups jumping on you.  Where you’re going, I doubt any of my sons or daughters can pounce on you.”

The goose had left that Fall with Stella to Russia.

As for Muk and Luk, they disappeared the day ‘Uncle’ Boris left.  Their absence brought a certain sadness to Balto; for he, like Boris, had grown up with them and shared great adventures with the cubs. 

The door creaked behind him and he heard soft paw falls behind him.  Soon he felt Jenna’s soft breast fur on his back and her gentle voice, a soft whisper, next to his ear. 

“What are you thinking of, Balto?” she asked.  “Memories?”

He grinned, closing his eyes in comfort.  “You read me like a book, Jenna.”

“Boris?”

“Haha, too late, I thought of him several seconds ago.”

She nipped him. “Balto! Must you be so!”

He laughed and she joined him, nuzzling him lovingly.

 “Have you heard of Steele?” he asked.

“I haven’t heard from him ever since Luna died.”

Silence for a moment. “Do you think he will overcome his sadness?” Jenna asked.

“I don’t know.”

“I never thought he would fall in love, much less a wolf.  What do you think changed him?”

Balto didn’t know the answer and he doubted anyone in town knew, including Dixie and Sylvia, the greatest gossipers in town. All Balto could do was guess.  He did know only one dog would forever know: Steele. 

“Maybe because he saved her life.”

“How did he save her life?” asked Jenna.

Balto looked out to the forest, barely visible from the town. He could not forget that day.  “I was there…”

 

 

Chapter 2

 

 

He was out in the forest hunting when he heard a gunshot rang, so close he ducked instinctively. There was a high squeal of pain, dog or wolf, and a thudding in the bush.   Balto ran into the nearest bush and hid himself as a hunter walked into the open.  Seeing no sign of his kill, the hunter went on searching.  He didn’t stop searching until he heard the cry of a wolf pack. To Balto, it was song of mourning and possibly a call of hope for a lost family member, for amongst wolves, any member in a pack, no matter rank was a family.  When he was certain the poacher was gone, Balto started to look for the wolf, he was certain it was a wolf, that was shot.  He sniffed around until he found the scent of an unmistakable but unidentifiable scent of wolf blood.  From the blood, he learned the wolf was around Alue’s age, half-grown and well fed.  And very close to death.  After a while of following drops of blood, he found himself following blood streaks; something had dragged the she-wolf, but his nose was so filled with the current scent he couldn’t identify the other thing, even if he wanted to.  When the blood scent became so prudent hat it seemed like he was swimming in it, did he stop.   He stood behind a bush near a rocky mountainside. There was heavy breathing and an occasional whine of pain.  But there was another being breathing as well.  He couldn’t smell anything else except the female’s blood so he dared to peek through the bush.  It was obviously not another wolf for this creature had a curled tail, a common trait of a tamed animal.  It had black and white coloring and very muscular build.  It also wore a golden collar that Balto had seen only one other dog: Steele.  When the she-wolf spoke and the other replied, it dashed Balto’s doubt that the dog before him was not Steele.

“Where…am I?”

“A hunter had shot you.”

“You saved me?”

“Don’t you know who I am?”

“…..I can’t tell, it’s…hazy…and so—ah…”

“You shouldn’t be alive after all the blood you lost.”

“...then…how am…I.”

“ That is unknown.” Steele nudged something closer to the wolf.  “Eat this. Then head into the cave over there.” He turned to go back to Nome.

“…wait.“

Steele stopped. 

“Why…are you doing this?” she asked.  “I am a wolf…you’re—“

“A dog?” interrupted Steele angrily. “I am not weak as some of the proud wolves say we dogs are. “

“I’m sorry…” said the she-wolf with effort. 

The anger died in Steele’s voice and there was silence. Then, “Eat. I’ll be back later.”     Then he was gone.

Where he was hidden, Balto could scarcely believe what he had seen.   Steele helping another being, a wolf to make it more unbelievable. 

Balto shook his head. What was he thinking?

  Steele had some characteristics, yes, that were disagreeable and aggressive but he was a living being like Balto, Jenna, and all the other dogs.  Deep down, he was the same as anyone else; living flesh and blood who had feelings, made choices, and lived with the consequences of the situation.

Though Balto couldn’t help but worry for the she-wolf being under Steele’s care, he now knew he didn’t have to.  If Steele wanted the wolf dead, he would’ve left her where she had been shot or killed her himself.  He had made his choice, now Balto made his: He returned to Nome.

He didn’t run into Steele until a good half a month had passed.  When that day came, Steele walked to the Old Mill, a beautiful she-wolf at his side.  White was her fur color, so white it seemed to radiate its own light.  Her eyes were hybrid, her left blue while her right was yellow.  All but Balto were surprised by this, though he was taken back he brought the she-wolf back with him.

After a few seconds of gaping, whispering, and gasping, Steele spoke.

“Everyone,” he said, speaking with a voice that was changed, “I’d like you all to meet my mate, Luna.”

The stunned silence was…what was the word: almost terrifying?  As for Sylvia and Dixie, their mouths dropped and they fell to the wooden floor in a senseless heap.  It was like a signal, Balto, Jenna, and all the other dogs leaped forward at once, shouting their congratulations and wishes.  Luna blushed and Steele beamed, not in selfish pride but in happiness for them both.

Steele caught Balto’s eye in the mayhem; in their depths he asked remorse for what he had done: almost killing the very people he had been trying to save during the Serum Run and Balto and Jenna out of personal want and pride.

Balto smiled back, waving aside the past and telling Steele to enjoy the present.  No longer enemies but neighbors, friends.

 

Later that night, Steele made his apology more formal and direct to Balto and Jenna.  He stammered a few times but with Luna at  his side, he completed what had been burdening him for three years.

“I never should’ve done what I did and it is something I’ll carry forever.” He said.

“Don’t,” said Jenna, gently.  “Don’t carry it forever.  It is not yours to carry anymore.”

“But it is, Jenna,” insisted Steele,

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