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.
=====================================================
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 comment. “Besides, your name sounds pretty . .
. and I think it suits you already.”
I nodded to
show my thanks and tried my best to make them not worry about my personal feelings,
but deep inside, I was afraid of this new name that I now had to answer to.
Actually, I felt like blushing after hearing Brother call me “pretty.” It was
embarrassing to hear that from any male, most especially your younger brother.
Secretly
after Brother and I were named, I began to wonder whether Mother ever proved
herself worthy of her name – Belle – but I never had the guts to ask her that
night; I was scared of what she would tell me and completely lacking the
courage to do it.
By the time
I felt able to gather enough courage to ask her, she wasn’t there.
The last
time we saw Mother was when we were about a year old. Master was training us to
pull his sled when we both last saw her. She had a leash attached to her
collar, and she was being led out the opposite direction as us. I didn’t
recognize the human taking her away, but I knew it wasn’t our Master. Both
Brother and I barked, trying to get her attention from our harnesses, much to
Master’s dismay.
“Mother!
Mother!” I barked loudly to her. “Where are you going?”
I was
silenced by her gaze, turning towards me as she listened to my voice. She only
smiled, as if to say with her eyes, “Don’t worry, love. I’ll be alright.” She
then turned away and bravely followed the tug of the human’s hold on her leash.
“Mother!
Mother!” I only continued to bark furiously. At the moment, I didn’t care if
Master got upset at me – I needed to learn where Mother was going and why she
was leaving us.
She can’t
leave us . . . not yet! I have to ask her . . . one last question . . .
But the
last I saw of her was her perfectly-curled tail walking down the snow-covered
street. She didn’t look back – I leaned over to Brother in tears. I felt alone
and lost without Mother, and Brother felt the same way; we didn’t know what we
were going to do next, but we had a feeling that Mother wouldn’t want us to cry
over her sudden departure.
Mother
would want us to be strong . . . to stay by Master’s side in her place . . . to
make her proud of us . . .
We had to
prove our worth . . . for her sake . . . and for Master’s as well . . .
However, it
was difficult for me after that moment as we traveled a short distance away
from home, but Master kept our thoughts on our duty with the crack of his whip.
Usually Master would never use his whip on us, his dogs, but it was a good
thing that he did this time. In the back of my mind, I felt alone despite the
fact that Brother was running beside me and Master was calling commands to us
from behind; Mother wasn’t there for comfort anymore . . . and that made me
want to break free and find out where she was being taken to. I wondered if
Brother felt the same way that I did as we pulled the heavy wooden sled behind
us.
“Hike!
Hike! Ha, Ha – let’s go!” The cries of Master echoed in my ears as I saw the
memories of Mother flash through my mind. I imagined myself running to her,
moving faster and closer to where she stood in my thoughts, but it seemed that
she never grew closer, no matter how fast I ran. The spring-thawed ground
dirtied my legs as we made our way through the nearby forest, filled with pine
and evergreen towers to cover the cloudy morning sky above us. I remained
focused on the invisible goal in front of me – Mother. I felt we had to reach
her, and I believed Master didn’t understand how we really felt right then,
especially since he was all about our training to become as reliable and
well-trained as Mother was.
We made it
home about a couple of hours later after going southeast for ten miles,
stopping to rest and traveling the return path home. As soon as Master unhooked
me from the sled, I was a silver comet, darting into Master’s barn where all of
the dogs slept.
Please be
there, Mother . . . Please still be here . . .
Once I
reached the doorway, I was panting, searching frantically from side to side
within the cozy space, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mother . . . or at least a
whiff of her loving scent. I was disappointed – she wasn’t there. I could only
sense the faint perfume of her scent, but it was near stale on the blue
dog-length pillow that she used to sleep and take care of us on. As I
approached the pillow, tears of pure blue dripped down my eyes. By the time
Brother came to my side, I had collapsed onto the memento of my maternal
guardian, smothering my muzzle into softness of the cushion and allowing what
was left of her scent to engulf me; the drops that didn’t land on the pillow
were on his tongue – he licked my face, wiping away my sorrows – yet still my
heart ached over Mother’s absence. It took me a while before I was able to stop
my weeping and close my eyes to sleep that night, but eventually with Brother’s
protective broad shoulders beside my own, I was able to rest with a slight
feeling of peace.
- - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Part III – Red Flick & The Bond
of Two
I still
missed her, always wondering if maybe I would pass by her in town one day, but
I was terrified when another one of Master’s loyal sled dogs told me what
really happened.
He was
named Red Flick by Master, and I had to admit it, the name suited him quite
well. The Alaskan Husky was about my size, despite he was five years my senior.
His coat was red like blood, marked with flicks of white around his face, chest
and legs. The leather collar that had his name attached on it with a gold plate
was dark ebony around his neck. He told me that he was once in the same
position as Mother was now, so it was easy for him to explain.
“You say
your mother was taken away by another Master?” Flick asked me one evening after
I queried him; it was the day after that fateful morning when we last saw
Mother. I nodded, only confirming his thoughts. “Ah, yes. Belle must have been
sold to someone else then, just like I was when I was about your age.” He spoke
in such a calm tone when he said that to me, and that made me confused.
I gasped.
“Sold? What does that mean?” I was unfamiliar to the term, so I wanted to know
what it meant. “It is a good thing or something bad?”
“Uh . . . Hmm
. . .” The red dog took a moment to think of a easier way to explain what
happened to Mother, lifting his muzzle up as he pondered with silent
mutterings. Finally, he spoke up once Brother showed up and sat beside me.
“Well, Masters are such strange creatures, and they have a thing for offering
up their own dogs to other Masters. When one Master receives a certain amount
of payment, they’ll give a dog or two in exchange for the pay. That’s the
business of being sold.” He paused, allowing those terrible words to sink into
my soul.
Personally,
I was stunned by the thought of another Master with Mother, especially since I
had no idea where she was now. Our town had many Masters with many dogs, so it
would be impossible to check all of them in order to find her. I sighed deeply,
lowering my ears and head as I did so. Brother gave me a nuzzle of comfort, so
it calmed me for the time being.
“Now, now –
cheer up, young one,” Flick reassured me with a smile. “Being sold can be both
a good thing and a bad thing . . . not to get you down, I mean.” He noticed my
expression of shock when he paused, but he was able to explain his reasons.
“When I was sold from my first Master, I was afraid too, but my next Master was
very nice -- that’s a good thing. However, I’ve heard of sledding dogs that
have been sent to places that are in such poor conditions . . . it’s like being
in a living hell, one of those types of dogs told me before they were taken
away.”
“How
awful,” Brother murmured; his face was also in a state of shock. “I hope I
never get sold to a Master that would mistreat me . . . or my sister.”
I was slightly
flattered by his kind comment to the older husky and near to the point of
blushing, but I was still concerned about where Mother was taken to. “So, do
you know where our mother was going?” I hoped and prayed that she was in a good
place with a good Master, just like the red husky had spoken about.
Flick just
shrugged. “I don’t know. I was only half-awake when another Master joined with
our Master that morning. They were talking about something, but before I could
understand what, I watched as the other Master clipped a lead line to Belle and
tugged it, leading her out of the barn. She obeyed the command like a
well-trained dog always does, only looking back at me and the other huskies
with a kind smile.” The red husky took a pause, reminiscing about how she was
with a small smile on his face. “Belle was always a good dog – one of Master’s
favorites. I wonder why she was chosen over the rest of us to go to another
Master . . . but I guess we’ll never know the answer to that.”
“Hmm,” Brother
replied. “Mother always told us to do as Master says. Why would she follow the
commands of another Master just like that?”
“That’s
what you have to get used to when you get sold,” Flick began to scratch himself
with one of his hind legs. “When your old Master sells you to a new one, you
have to learn to accept the words of the new Master once they start a-tuggin’
on that leash. It’s the rules of being sold, but most of the time, it’s hard to
know when you’ll be given a new Master. It could happen at any time, so you
must learn to expect the unexpected.”
I was
silent, my head collapsed towards the ground again. After a few moments to
recover from Flick’s words, I began to ask him with tears in my eyes. “But that
doesn’t seem right . . . Why would Mother just allow them to take her away?
It’s not fair . . .”
Flick’s
ears pricked up. “Hmm? Oh, all pups have to be weaned from their dams one day .
. . It was hard for me too when I was about four months old, but it was . . .
much different than your situation.” He let out a deep sigh as his ears fell to
the side and his head fell. He stammered at a couple of words, and I could tell
that he had it hard too. “Mine was . . . k-k-killed in a . . . sledding
a-a-accident . . . while on her way back home. I never saw her again.”
“Oh,” My
head lifted as my tears began to stop. I had heard the word “killed” and I knew
what that meant: his mother was gone . . . and unlike ours, she couldn’t come
back. He was now in tears and all I could do was lower my ears in respect. “I’m
so sorry to bring up some bad memories.”
“Same
here,” Brother offered his own condolences. “We didn’t know.”
“Ah, it’s
all right,” Flick recovered with a sniffle, but his voice was normal again.
“She wouldn’t want me to linger on in the past, so after she was buried, I
learned to move on . . . It wasn’t easy for me, but it’s probably what she
would have wanted for me and my siblings in the long run.” He looked back at us
with a grin. “I never really forgot mine, and I’m sure your mother would want
you to not forget her either. The important thing that the two of you have to
look forward to right now is your dogsled training, and once the two of you
succeed in that, I know you’ll make her spirit happy in return.”
Somehow, I
was able to give Brother and Flick a smile. I did want to make Mother happy,
but . . . it was lonely without her, even with my own brother with me. I had
always had Brother . . . and prior to yesterday, we had always had Mother, . .
. but now she was gone elsewhere.
I was able
to still sleep with Brother’s shoulder to rest my head on, but as I began to
dream that night, I feared about losing him too. Brother was the only one I
could trust ever since I was born, and I was afraid that something could happen
to him too. I felt like I had to open one of my eyes every now and then to make
sure that he was still beside me. Sometimes, I would place my ear near his
chest as I fell back to sleep, so that I could hear his heart still beating and
know that he was still with me.
A couple of
nights after our talk with Red Flick, my fur against Brother’s woke him up
during the night. He looked at me with surprise and confusion.
“What are
you doing, Sis?” he asked me with a whisper, as not to wake up any of the other
sleeping huskies inside the dog barn.
“Oh,” I
paused nervously, nearly blushing out of embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Brother . .
. I’m just sleeping next to you, so that Master doesn’t take you away from me.”
“Huh?”
Brother replied in surprise, still quietly. “I don’t understand.”
I led him
outside so that we could talk louder and perhaps get a look at the starry night
sky while we spoke. Once out of the door, we walked to the grassy meadow where
we once played together as pups and sat down beneath the stars.
“Brother,”
I began to admit my worries. “I’m sorry if you’re uncomfortable when I sleep
close to you.” My head lowered in shame, I was near to tears as I continued. “I
was afraid that . . . that you would be sold without me knowing . . . and-and .
. . I’d never be able to see you again . . .” Now the tears began to drip from
my eyes.
The dark
form of my brother was silent, as if to absorb by every word in order to
understand my feelings. His head was high though – he was looking at the
midnight canvas in front of us. It was strange how there was no mountains in
front of where we sat – we could see the beginnings of an Aurora Borealis in
front of us, sparkling with its many color ribbons dancing around the sky over
the clearing.
Brother
slowly gasped in awe at the sight. “Wow. Are you seeing this, Sis?” I guess he
was trying to change the subject in order to cheer me up.
It worked;
I looked up after drying my tears and sniffling a bit, but I too was gazing in
amazement at the shimmering sight.
“They’re
beautiful, aren’t they?” I asked Brother with a smile. “The Northern Lights, I
mean.”
“Yeah,
they’re so pretty,” he replied back, looking at the lights . . . and then
looking at me. I didn’t notice a moonbeam flash over me as he spoke. “Just like
you are. You know, you really are like starlight . . . and I can see the stars
in your blue eyes.”
I was taken
aback by his observation, stepping back a couple of steps before sitting down
again with my muzzle lowered. The only ones that saw me as starlight were
Mother, Brother and Master . . . Why couldn’t I see myself as that too?
“No, I’m
not,” I shook off Brother’s comment. “My name may be Starlight, but I am
nothing like actual starlight.”
“Well, I’m
not like a spruce tree either,” he snapped back playfully. “but I’m named Black
Spruce, because Master sees that in me.”
“But you’re
strong and reliable, just like a young tree that grows in the forest . . . and
your eyes are green too,” I observed aloud. “Master gave you a name that really
suits you well.” I felt my ears fall with my next comment as I realized what I
was saying. “Maybe Mother was right when she said that Master gives us names
that binds us to our destiny.“
“I guess
so,” Brother said with a grin. “Perhaps one day you’ll see the starlight that
shines in you. I know you will live up to it.”
But how? I
didn’t know, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to. I was quiet as I fell to the
grass with a deep sigh. My head and nose were between my front legs and I was
totally exhausted. Brother walked up to where I was and laid beside me beneath
the silver light of the moon and the colorful aurora.
“This is
relaxing,” Brother murmured as I began to feel his touch close to my fur. I
nearly gasped at the pattering of his heart beating inside his chest, which was
now close to my foreleg. “It’s almost like I could stay here forever.”
My face was
nearly red as he let out a comforting sigh. “Yeah, me too. I like it when
you’re here with me, Brother. I don’t feel so alone . . . and I don’t seem to
miss Mother as much when you are by my side.”
He turned
to me, his ears pricked up. “I understand your fear of us being separated if
Master sells one of us, but you know, we’ll never really be apart.” He paused,
noticing my tilted head. “I mean, if anything ever does happen to us, we’ll still
be inside each other’s hearts . . . because we love each other so much . . .
and Mother will always be there with us too.” He leaned over for a gentle
nuzzle with our noses touching sweetly.
Our sibling
bond was very strong, and I just hoped that Master understood that we needed to
stay together. We felt so comfortable outside under the night sky that we ended
up sleeping outside that night; our fur was so close to each other, I had a
feeling that Brother could feel my heartbeat against his fur too, just like I
felt his.
(Section I – completed 2/5/08)
- - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -