Author’s Note: This last part is almost a retelling of the major situation in “Wings of Change,” of course with a different outcome than in the film. I changed much of the original dialogue, but I tried to keep the original feel of the script while making it my own piece. This epilogue is the longest part of the story and I appreciate you readers for enjoying the first two parts; I hope you enjoy my version of Balto III, and hopefully I, too, can make his legacy proud with the conclusion of this tale.

Also, you might be surprised with one scene, based on the original film! Look out for it, and enjoy! Also, I split this final part into three parts for sake of a break. The finale is coming soon, so look for it!

- Juuchan17

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Part ONE 

Nothing much had changed in the small town since that day. The mountains remained rigid and steadfast, like a border of the two worlds that were united within their city limits – the wild forest and the tame house pet life. The shoreline with its reflecting sea was a border also, and a safe haven for traveling geese that wanted to escape their hometowns for a while . . . or longer, if they wished it so. Sled teams continued to come and go from the Alaskan town, whether for delivering mail and packages to nearby towns or just for the thrills of the fast, competitive sport of dog-sledding. Life remained normal as the sleeping night began to cease, signaling the rise of the upcoming morning.

The birds were beginning their natural alarm call as the sky’s dark hue started to morph from dark navy to a shade of orange-yellow. A soft breeze tapped against the branches of the tall, slender pines that lined the nearby forest by the mountainous cliffs, creating a serenely pleasant mood for the arrival of the sun. Although many creatures were still asleep, one four-legged animal was up long before the avian chirps, continuing the same early-morning routine on the sandy beachside that he had done for the past three years. 

As the light of the upcoming sunrise began to dust everything with its pale orange hue, the creature stood on the shoreline, allowing the tide to lap against his large, white stocking paws. He let out a sigh, allowing the peeking sun to warm his white face with its golden orange rays. He shook his coat, a rusty burgundy now brushed with a tint of sunrise, trying to get the specks of sand that hitched a ride on him as he ran the edge of the shore. He breathed in, then blew in out slowly, as he began to rest before continuing his exercise.

The sun now covered the lower part of the sky, and the wake-up calls began to spread through the town of Nome; the huskies and malamutes of the local sledding teams slowly began to rise from their night slumber with yawning howls and barks.  

The burgundy and cream dog sat on the sand, looking out at the sleepy town that was the place of his birth only three years ago. He sighed again, turning his gaze to the left of where he sat, lowering his ears at the sight of the old, grounded boat of wood.

Oh, Dad . . . A tear fell down his eye as he gazed upon the carved cross that stuck out from the foot of the boat’s bow, surrounded by blossoming flowers. I still miss you, although I can hardly believe what has happened in the many months since I last saw you . . . You said that a part of you was always with me, right? 

He closed his eyes, remembering how he moved on from the sudden loss of his half-breed patriarch after meeting with his spirit for, gosh, it seemed for hours, but it was only a matter of minutes before the young son watched his role model vanish back into the land of the spirits. A soft wind caused his fur to shift as the memories of almost a year ago flooded back into his mind’s eye.

You wouldn’t believe it if you saw it yourself . . . what happened only a while ago . . . . 

= - = - = - = - = - =

As the two year old pup descended down the rocky mountain in the dark of evening, he had made a new promise while the image of his father sinking into the starry sky remained fresh in his mind:  

Dad . . . Dad, I will make you proud of me . . . by following your example . . . by believing in my own strength . . . by showing everyone that I am your son . . . .

Throughout the coming weeks, all the local dogs noticed a change come over the youngest son of their fallen hero. Instead of being the forlorn pup that he was during the past year while mourning his father’s death, he was . . . strangely very happy. He started each sled run with a howl of joy and a smile to the rest of his sledding party, as if he remembered what he longed to do more than anything – lead a sled team. Every run on the mail team ended the exact same way – a quick howl and a glad smile – and once he was detached from the sled harness, he would run and play down the shores, almost like he was a young pup again.  

Some rumors began to spread around the chain of dog gossipers that the might have been possessed by the spirit of his late father; others thought that it must have been some sort of brainwashing that caused him to forget that his father ever died.

Even the young Jenna, his mother, had heard the rumors herself, however she didn’t believe them; her intuition made her have a secret feeling that perhaps her dead mate had knocked some sense into him. Everything that the understanding husky would tell him never seemed to work within that year after they both gazed upon the hybrid’s lifeless corpse. She knew that his role model, her mate, was the only one that could make things right. Unlike her youngest son, she had accepted her lover’s sudden death and moved on with her life, no longer weeping over him. She had grown friendly to another male, a wheat-brown husky, who she planned on making her new mate in due time, but she made sure that her new love would never be compared to what she had with her hero. 

For the past couple of years, the burgundy female had always hoped that her young son would at last show his true strength to the world, the strength that he had hidden ever since his idol left his side.

Show them, Kodi . . . Show them who you are . . . . 

In the late winter of 1928, the son got his chance.

After a sudden landing by a foreign plane yards from the town cathedral, the huskies on the mail team became worried after hearing about what the plane’s purpose was. The team (and several other curious dogs) had a meeting underneath the town hall as the upset mushers, confused townspeople, and the calm, blond-haired pilot met above them. 

“But what about our jobs?” A small gray husky on the team spoke up to the others. “If that plane delivers the mail, what can we do to live?”

“Nothing, I suppose, Dusty,” The large dark gray canine replied, giving her a sorrowful gaze. “Who will love us if we can’t run on a sled team anymore?” A tear fell down his cheek; the light gray female, Dusty, licked it away and nuzzled him softly. Suddenly, he felt a burst of confidence surge through him. “But I know one thing: we can’t let this thing take our jobs! We have to do something!” 

“There may not be anything we can do, Ralph,” Dusty lowered her ears. “Unfortunately, this all sounds like an impossible situation in which we may never recover ever again.”

The burgundy and white quarter-wolf listened to the conversation, thinking at the same time. This is terrible! We can’t lose our jobs! There’s nothing else that we can do here, except for running! There must be something I can do to stop this . . . 

He lifted his head up, looking through the vent where a lantern flickered; he could feel its soft golden glow shine upon his coat as he let out a sigh. What would you do in this situation, Dad?

“We can’t give up hope, you guys,” He spoke up with a sense of confidence. “Maybe it’s all a big misunderstanding or something! There’s got to be some way to show that we still have an important job to do!” 

All of the other huskies nodded, agreeing with the young red pup. A wheat-brown male looked at him as he continued to listen to the concerns of the other canines. However, watching the quarter-wolf talking with the rest of the team made him wonder for a while as he called his large blackish-gray sled-mate.

“Hmm, look at this here, Ralph,” The brown lead dog whispered to his companion, pointing a paw at the red husky. “I don’t know why, but it appears that young Kodi is gonna be as just like his father!” 

“I don’t know, Kirby,” Ralph sat down and began to scratch himself with his hind leg. “He’s still so young, and it’s only been two years since his passing. But,” The massive canine took another look at Kodi with a smile. “‘Like father, like Son,’ I suppose. He has changed since he first joined us last year.”

“Yeah, he was quite a difficult one to break when he started out,” the lead dog let out a giggle. “It’s like he didn’t even want to run! But now, he’s one of the fastest and most high-spirited dogs I have ever run with.” 

Dusty, who was listening to the two males’ conversation, stepped in and added to Kirby’s comment. “He has the spirit of his father inside him, always.” She nudged the brown dog’s shoulder with a chuckling grin as she strutted away towards the red quarter-wolf. “Be careful, Kirb – I think we may have a new lead dog in our midst.”

Kirby stood there, stunned by Dusty’s comment. Could that be possible? He thought. But he didn’t mind the idea of Kodi as his successor. Hmm, he has shown something that I’ve never seen in another dog before . . . Yeah, Dusty . . . I think you may be on to something. I just need to give him a chance to lead for once . . . 

Suddenly, the sound of excitement and gasping filled the air as the other dogs crowded around a gray Bassett Hound as she pricked her long right ear up to the floor vent, listening for the latest news of the sled team’s future.

“Wait, wait. I think I’m getting something here . . .” She mumbled out loud, while at the same time, trying to stretch her ear closer to the vent. “Ah! Oh my! This is . . . this is an interesting turn of events!” 

“What, Dipsy?” The dogs all spoke in unison, suddenly hushed, eager to hear the latest news. “What is it?”

“The mushers and the pilot have agreed on a race to see which way is faster: the dogs or the bush plane! The winner gets to deliver the mail!” The hound dog turned to see the faces of her companions light up with the sound of the news. 

“We’re the fastest team here in this town!” Kirby declared. “There’s no way that we could lose!”

“Yeah, we can take ‘em!” Ralph jumped up from his sitting position with glee, but stopped with a gasp, turning to his female friend in gray. “Can’t we?” 

“Of course we can!” Dusty pricked her ears up, nuzzling the big-boned male (which caused his cheeks to blush bright red as he began to giggle embarrassedly). “If we have the right dog to lead us to victory, we’ll have nothing to fear!”

“But we do have the right leader!” The red and white male stood up and looked at his brown canine companion. “Kirby has led us through every obstacle that we’ve had to face! He won’t let us down now . . . Right?” 

“Well,” Kirby began to pace back and forth within the center of the group with a straight face of seriousness as he gazed at his team. “I know we can do it, and it’s time to let our true strength show . . .” The male stopped at the quarter-wolf. “This time, we’ll win with Kodi in the lead.”

The rest of the huskies were amazed, but none were as amazed as the young dog in burgundy. He sat in a bewildered state for a moment, letting the sudden announcement sink in. 

“Who, me?” The quarter-wolf saw Kirby nod his head. The young pup’s face was flushed pink in surprise. He couldn’t believe his ears.

Could this be it? Could this be my chance to live my dream and make Dad proud?  

“Me? As the leader?” Red asked Brown. “Are you sure? I – I know my dad was a sled dog, but I’ve never led before! How do you know I won’t mess up?”

“As your partner on the team, I trust that you will do the right thing.” Kirby placed his left paw onto his friend’s white chest until he could feel the husky-mix’s heart pulsating quickly against his toes. “Your heart and intuition will lead us to a great win. I know that you can do it.” 

“Yeah! You said it, Kirby! Go for it, Kodi! You can do it!” The other dogs chimed in, cheering him on. “Take the chance, Kodi!”

They’re right! We can do it! I know we can! 

“All right! Let’s do it!” He stood tall and led his team outside, where they headed for the boiler room to get rested up for the next day’s race.

We can do it . . . as long as you’re with me, Dad . . . 

Right?

The red quarter-wolf left the boiler room during the night; he couldn’t wait to tell his mother the great news. When he arrived at the home of his birth, he let out a low howl to signal his mother. 

The burgundy female was in her owner’s bedroom when she heard the call. She lifted her head from her sleeping rug and her hazel eyes looked out the window. She noticed that it was her youngest son and suddenly headed out of the room where young Rosy, who had just recently reached the age of nine, was fast asleep and quietly snoring. When she arrived the front door, she slipped through the dog-door and ran to her son’s side.

“Kodi? Kodi!” The female nuzzled him, hushing him. “Shh! Keep it down, son! Rosy’s fast asleep and I don’t want her to wake up and get worried about me not being in her room.” 

“Oh, sorry, Mom,” He said in a quieter tone, lowering his ears in shame for a moment, then lifted them in glee. “Guess what, Mom? You know that plane that arrived here a couple of days ago?” She nodded as he continued. “Well, there’s going to be a race between our sled team and the bush plane tomorrow and . . .” His mouth curved into a large grin. “I’m going to lead them!”

She let out a gasp.  

Oh my God . . . I can’t even believe it . . .

“Kodi . . . I’m so proud of you!” Mother and Son joined together in an embrace of joy. Then moments later, they parted as her face suddenly showed a hint of worry. “Kodi, . . . do you really think you’re ready for this? I mean, you’re still just a young pup, only three years old! Leading a sled team is difficult work!” 

“I’m almost four!” The red and white son corrected and after letting out a quick cough, he continued. “Mom, I can handle it,” He reassured her. “The team trusts me! And I’ve learned from some of the best dogs in town! Not to mention, I’ve got something that only five others have . . .” He gave his mother a wink. “And I won’t give up now.”

A thin stream of tears fell from her hazel eyes, understanding her son’s words. Oh, I know you’d be proud of him if you were listening to your son right now . . .“I know, I know. Oh, Kodi. You really have changed your life ever since last year. I’m glad to hear that you’re remembering your dream again.” 

“Yeah, me too, Mom,” He said as the two of them sat down for the next couple of minutes and watched the Northern Lights dance and wave above them in the navy sky. “Me too.”

Little did either red dog notice a shooting star streak across the aurora’s path, and then suddenly fade into the night. 

Morning came and everyone went outside to watch the start of the big showdown. All of the dogs cheered on the sled team as the final hour before the start drew nearer.

“Are you nervous, Kodi?” The burgundy female in the red-orange bandanna walked up to the lead dog, whose face was nothing but smiles from ear to ear. “It’s almost time.” 

“Oh, Mom,” he nuzzled her for luck. “I’m not nervous; just anxiously excited, I suppose. But I know I’ll be all right. Don’t worry, Mom.” He gave her a warm, comforting grin, wagging his tail happily as other dogs, including his four other brothers and sisters, also came by to wish him luck on his first run at the lead.

Ah, he’s so much like his father . . . No matter what happens, I’ll still be proud of him . . . . 

You will be too, won’t you, dear?

At last, the time arrived to take off. The musher, Mr. Simpson, and the bush plane pilot, Duke, shook hands for a good race, no matter what the outcome was to be. 

“Good luck to you,” The dark-haired Inuit dressed in his traditional musher attire told the pilot before returning to his team of seven. “May you have a good and safe flight.”

“And the same to you, sir,” Duke gave the musher a wink as he swept back a stray lock of blond hair from his face. “I’ll be sure to watch you from the skies!” He left the area with a quick salute, returning to his plane, The Tundra Express, and began to check it all over; he made sure that every part of his machine was in perfect condition for such a big race. 

Mr. Simpson heard the cheers of the townspeople as he reached his hand to his new lead dog and smothered the fur on top of his head. “I trust you, Kodiak. I believe you can lead the way. Make your father proud.”

He barked happily and jumped up, licking him quickly. The musher laughed at the tickling sensation he felt against his face as he calmed the now-playful sled dog down. His black eyes saw the rest of his team also barking with anticipation as their leader, in his well-groomed coat of dark burgundy and ivory, let out a hopeful howl, as if ready to start the race . . . and prove his strength, at last. 

I am so excited! I feel so energized! I . . . am ready to run!

Hmm, I wonder if this feeling is how you would feel whenever you would run, Dad . . . 

The brown-haired postmaster, Mr. Conner, began to hush the crowd. “Now, quiet. Quiet, everybody . . . the race is about to begin!” He placed his hands to his mouth, amplifying his voice so all could hear. “All right, everybody. Here are the rules for the race:” The dogs and the people stood silent as they waited to hear the announcement. “Here’s a sack of mail for you,” He handed it to Mr. Simpson, who strapped it into his sled. “And a sack of mail to you,” Another sack was given to Duke, who placed it inside his plane, near the engine. “All right, each team has a sack of U.S. Mail onboard. At the sound of the flare gun, both the sled team and the bush plane will take off and head to the town of White Mountain to deliver their sack of mail. When they reach the town, they must exchange their mail bag for another full sack, and then return back here to Nome. Whichever team arrives here with their new mail will be the winner!”

The jubilant energy from the crowd seemed to sink into the harnessed team; they leaped in place and barked, eagerly awaiting the gunshot signal to start. 

“All right, everybody! May the best team win! On your mark, . . . ,” Mr. Conner lifted his gun in the air.

“Get set, . . . ,” 

The dogs lowered themselves, sinking their paws into the melting snow of early spring, ready to take off from their starting mark.

Let’s show our best out here, okay, and we’ll win this race . . . together . . . . 

“GO!”

The gunshot echoed from the postmaster’s hands as the team took off with a barking start. The red leader’s sight was only about the path ahead of them; he didn’t even notice that the flying machine hadn’t left the ground by the time the dog team left the town limits. 

Hours passed by, and the sled team was clearing ground quite quickly. The winding snow-covered terrain of the Alaskan wilderness was now plastered with the paw-prints of six dogs, their quarter-wolf leader, and a trail of wooden sled runners following it. The red dog panted as he led his fellow team through the path that he had run many a day. This was their usual turf – the road they always traveled; there was no chance in hell that they would allow a human and his man-made craft defeat them so easily.

It was at a long clearing in which the red pup finally saw the metal creature in flight, riding the transparent waves of the wind like a man bareback-riding on a horse – it suddenly lowered itself near the flowing river, almost touching it as the pilot gave the musher a salute, ascending again into the cirrus clouds above, and passed the team as if they were nothing. 

At that moment, never had Kodi seen such a sight that made him nervous. At that moment, he began to feel as if maybe they were being too confident about their power. At that moment, he began to doubt . . . .

Maybe . . . this is one race we can’t win . . .  

Dad . . . what if I let them down?

What if I can’t make them proud?  

Or make you proud?

The town of White Mountain was right on the horizon as he watched the plane begin its descent to the flat, snowy ground at the edge of the town limits. He wasn’t the only one that noticed this shocking sight. 

“Oh no!” Ralph gasped as he panted hard. “The plane! It’s already landed!”

“This is bad,” Dusty also panted out. “We’re not gonna make it with this speed! This could cost us the race right here!” 

The leader let out a sigh as he heard the words of his teammates behind him.

She’s right . . . That plane passed us by as if we were nothing more than rooted weeds on the plain . . . 

But . . . . His brown eyes closed only for a moment as something had caused his sudden fears to fade into the wind.

“We can’t give up yet, you guys!”  

Everyone looked forward at the now-determined pup.

“We still have the race back home! We all know the trip from White Mountain to Nome is our strong point, right? We can do this!” 

Ralph and the others nodded as they began to slow down, passing by the large wooden sign post, welcoming them into White Mountain. He looked at the plane while they entered town – it had stopped as the pilot stepped out of his flying machine with the mail sack in tow. By the time the sled team stopped at the Postal Office to deliver their mail, the blond human had already made the exchange and was heading back to the plane, almost ready to take-off for the finish of the race.

I hope we can do this . . . . 

“Damn,” Kodi muttered under his breath as he glared at the pilot. “I really don’t like him for trying to take our jobs from us . . .” His voice grew louder as each word escaped his lips. “But he sure is fast, that’s for sure! I've never seen anything soar so swiftly before!”

“Kodi?” Dusty responded to his last sentence. “Are you switching sides on us? I hope you’re not, because we’re halfway through this race, and there’s no time for us to give up without our leader, right?” 

“Yeah, don’t abandon us now, Kodi!” The other dogs behind him only caused his doubts to grow.

"I'm not!" He turned back to his team, speaking in an almost angered tone. "It's just that . . ." He was interrupted by the sound of Mr. Simpson's voice calling him. 

"All right, Kodi! Mush! Hee-yah!"

He barked back to his musher and began to run, but first he wanted to reassure his team that he wasn’t a traitor. "Let's make this one count, you guys!" 

“Yeah! Let’s do it!” The other huskies barked back as their leader began to lead them out of the city limits of White Mountain. What the others didn’t notice was that Kodi peered back at the plane when they passed it by.

Wow . . . it’s so shiny, sleek and fast, he thought as he ran by the front of the plane, looking at the metal gleam of the human’s machine. To think that such a thing could beat us . . . 

He shook his head, trying to get rid of the thought, but he knew that no matter how focused he was on the race, his peaking curiosity about the flying machine continued to remain on his mind.

But it didn’t move when we left it . . . it should have at least started by now if it wants to really beat us . . . right? 

Kodi noticed this, but said nothing as he led his team through the forest and perilous mountain terrain ahead of them.

Hours had passed before the voice of one of his teammates noticed something odd. 

“Hey, guys. Have you noticed that we haven’t heard that plane ever since we left White Mountain?”

“Yeah,” Ralph answered back to the brown male beside him, while the gray looked up at the cloudy gray sky with a concerned glare. “That’s not a good thing, is it?” 

“Well, it could only mean two things,” Dusty replied, panting until the team finally reached the safe section of the mountain path.

“The plane is either behind us, or . . .” Kirby awaited for a conclusion to his thought. 

“In front . . . . Whoa!”

Kodi had been so focused on his silent thoughts of the plane’s location that he didn’t notice a slippery spot on the rocky trail. His large claws emerged from his paws, but to no avail; they weren’t enough to keep him on the safety of the trail as his body began to slip out of his harness and off the side. He let out a howling scream as he fell; the other huskies had also began to slide near the edge, but kept their bodies on the trail, watching in horror of their leader going over the snowy mountainside. 

“Kodi!”

“Kodi!” 

“Oh no!” Kirby yelled out as the other dogs pulled him away from the edge. “Kodi!”

“Whoa! Kodiak, no!” 

Mr. Simpson, who saw his lead dog go over the side, was stunned, afraid that his dog was a lost cause, but he knew that there was still a race to be won . . . and sometimes sacrifices had to be made.

“C’mon, guys,” he said, holding back tears. “Let’s mush. We’re only a couple of hours from home.” 

But the team refused to move. They stood steadfast and barked back at their musher, as if to tell him, “No. He’s part of the team too. We can’t leave him behind.”

Mr. Simpson let out a long sigh, knowing that he couldn’t fight the strong companionship that his team had. “All right,” he gave in with a smile. “We’ll wait for him then. If you guys have faith in his strength, then I will too. We’ll cross the finish line together – all of us.”  

The other six dogs barked gladly, understanding that their musher understood. But all of their worry was to their rusty-colored friend who had gone over the edge; all they could do was hope and pray that he was still alive.

Please, Kodi . . . Please be all right . . . We need you . . . 

Oh, Kodi . . . Don’t be dead. The team isn’t the same without you in front!

Come on, kid . . . We’re a team! We all have faith in you . . . and you’d better not give up on us now! Come on . . .  Come on . . .  

You can make it . . . I – No, we all hope you’re alive . . . May your father’s strong spirit be with you . . . somehow . . . .