Sparkle In Your Eyes

a Valentine's Day fic by Juuchan17

(Note: Special thanks goes to Kelev for the idea of adding two certain characters to the plot! Thanks so much! - Enjoy! Juuchan17)

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Part II: Any Suggestions?

The sun fell, giving rise to the moon and the stars of the midnight sky. Again, the sunshine gave way to the dawn, followed by the lunar sphere twelve hours later. 

A couple of days had passed since he and Jenna had made plans to exchange gifts on the “Day of Love,” Valentine’s Day. Balto remained on his boat, his dull-teal blanket covering over his sleeping head . . . although he wasn’t really asleep once the sun’s rays began to lap against his fur and the fabric.

It’s been two days so far – less than five to go, Balto thought as he flipped over to his stomach, losing the blanket on his head and letting out a sigh. Over the past two years, you’d think I’d know more about her preferences of what she likes by now . . .  

A waddling white fowl approached the waking mutt, stopping in front of his face and leaning to Balto’s eye-level before talking. “Good morning, Balto,” he greeted him with a Russian-like accent and a small friendly wave. “Ah, you look troubled again.”

Balto’s head rose at the sound of his guardian. “Boris, nothing’s troubling me this time.” 

“Are you sure?” Boris crossed his wings in front of his chest. “Remember last time you said nothing was wrong, you were being haunted by dream of raven and wolves almost two years ago.”

I remember that,Balto thought with a small huff. Boris had talked with him by the totem pole about it the same day Jenna gave birth to their pups. That began a big adventure about the importance of dreams and that stuff, . . . but that’s not the point this time. 

“Well if you were wondering, I’m not having nightmares and dreams this time,” Balto clarified. “It’s about Jenna.”

“What about Jenna?” the gander asked, not realizing that two moving piles of white fur were sneaking their way closer to them both. He gasped at a sudden thought. “Oh no – the stork didn’t land again, did it?” He placed a wing slightly over his eyes, shaking it from side to side. “Oy! Babysitting Aleu for almost a year was enough for me; I don’t think I could handle another bunch of pups using my body like a chew toy again!” 

Balto lifted his head up and laughed, easily amused by the comment. “No, no, Boris. It’s not about that.” Although I would love to be a father again, he silently added to his own response. “You know a lot about humans, right?”

“Ah, I am like traveling dictionary when it comes to humans,” Boris boasted, sticking his chest slightly out. “but I’m not perfect on certain things that they do.” 

Before Balto could begin to ask his question about that strange holiday he was just introduced to, the two white ninjas of fluff bounded over the wooden railing of the boat with a whooping cry, landing on top of the snow goose.

“Ack—!” was all the gander could manage to say as the larger of the creatures – with the smaller one sitting on his shoulders – sat atop of him, silencing him for the time being. 

“Uncle Boris!” The smaller of the two creatures lifted his head up, shouting with glee and a large smile underneath his black nose. “Uncle Boris, we’ve found you!” He chuckled a bit before continuing to speak in a slight British accent. “Luk tagged you, so that means you’re it! Hooray!” His short arms lifted up in the air, as if to show their victory in the game that they were playing.

The larger bear with a pale pink nose laughed softly, still sitting on the head of the goose. Boris was trying to tell the two bears to get off of him, but the muffled noise wasn’t exactly something they could comprehend. It was up to the wolf-dog to set things right, although he thought their close bonding was rather sweet. Boris was all those two had before he had come along, and even the idea of taking in two orphaned polar bear brothers seemed ridiculous to many animals nearby, but the Russian gander didn’t care.  

He really does love those guys, Balto thought with a small smile and a sigh to match. Although it’s not easy for him to show it that often.

“Muk . . . Luk . . .” He told them slowly and clearly, so to get their complete attention. “Could you not sit on Uncle Boris’s head? He needs to breathe too.” 

The smaller bear, Muk, looked down and gasped in horror. “Oh no!” Leaping off of his brother’s back, he allowed Luk to step backwards and give their “Uncle Boris” a chance to catch his breath. The gander gasped once the bear bottom was off of him, and in a sign of apology, the brothers leaned Boris against their fur, petting his shoulders.

“Sorry, Uncle Boris,” Muk apologized in a quiet voice. Luk mumbled a couple of noises to show he was sorry. Unlike his smaller brother, Luk couldn’t speak as well, but Muk was able to easily translate the noises that the large bear cub made into plain English. “Luk says he’s sorry too. We were just playing a game of tag, that’s all.” 

“I think you just have to touch the person that’s it, not crush them,” Boris was able to comment, advising the two bears. “But next time, play carefully, okay?”

“Okay. We’ll be careful from now on,” Muk promised. Luk made a muffled noise as he bobbed his head in a swift motion. 

“Now, run along and play now, all right?” Boris sent them away. “Balto and I are in the middle of a discussion.” He turned to the gray-brown wolf-dog and smiled back at the bears. “We’ll be down to join you for something, I guess . . . okay?”

With a quick nod, the two bears vanished over the railing and laughed as the sounds of pure happiness and tossed snowballs hitting and missing their targets filled the air. 

Balto let out a laugh. “It sounds like they’re enjoying the recent snowfall, huh?”

“Yeah,” Boris replied. “Now, what did you want to ask be about, Balto? Something about Jenna?” 

“Well, it’s about Jenna, but it’s also about humans,” Balto explained, beginning to ask his question. “Have you heard of a holiday called Valentine’s Day? Some day on the 14th of February?”

The gander placed a wing on his chin, thinking and muttering to himself. “Hmm, Valentine’s Day . . . Valentine’s Day . . .” He stroked his feathered jaw for a couple of seconds before lifting a feathered finger in the air. “Ah-ha! I have heard about this before . . . I do believe it’s a holiday that humans celebrate to show their mates how much they love each other.” 

“I know that already, Boris,”  Balto collapsed back onto the wooden planked floor, resting his head on his front legs. “Jenna told me all about it, but that’s not the problem.” He sighed. “The local dogs are having a celebration in less than five days for Valentine’s Day, and the two of us promised to exchange gifts. The problem is that . . . I don’t know what to give her.”

“But Balto, you and Jenna have been together for a couple of years!” Boris reminded him. “I have seen the two of you together, and I can feel the deep bond that you both share.”  

Balto was able to smile at the comment. Well, I do love her, and Boris has been through those first days with me, so he knows, he thought as Boris continued.

“Let me tell you a quick story, Balto. Back in Mother Russia, I remember my mother mentioning how young geese sing to one another in order to find their life partners. I remember asking her why we had to do that, and she told me, ‘Boris-dear, that is what we geese do. Only the one that answers your own unique call will be the one that is destined for you and you alone.’ 

“’But how will I know that?’ I asked her. ‘I can’t even sing well!’ But Mama reassured me with this: ‘It doesn’t matter whether your song is perfect or not; the one meant for you will accept it regardless. It’s a love song that only you two will understand.’”

“So, what exactly are you suggesting?” Balto tilted his head in confusion. “Although you raised me since I was orphaned as a pup, I still can’t honk like a goose, you know.” 

“I already know that, Balto, but I was suggesting that maybe you serenade Jenna with a love song,” Boris finally stated. “Use the voices of the angels to prove your love to your beloved and let all bear witness of your everlasting love for each other!”

“Me? Sing?” Balto was taken aback by the idea. He sat up and turned his head. “No way!” His voice began to stammer as he continued. “I-I-I . . . You know I can’t sing, Boris! It’s i-i-impossible for me to do that!”  

Especially in public, Balto added silently. I’ve just gotten on the good side of most of the local dogs here; if I sang to Jenna in front of everyone, . . . they’d think I was crazy.

Boris sighed. “So what, you can’t sing . . . but you can howl, yes?” 

The wolf-dog laughed, still shocked by the ideas that he was hearing. “Of course I can howl, Boris . . . but it’s not exactly romantic. Maybe between two wolves, but not to a husky.”

“A poem, perhaps?” Boris suggested. “It’s like a song, sans the music and all.” 

“I don’t think so,” Balto shook his head.

“Well, I don’t know what else to say, Balto,” Boris seemed to be out of ideas as he sighed again.  

The hybrid stood up, stretching out as he let out a long yawn, and began to walk towards the wooden railing that pointed towards Nome and the totem pole that stood proudly as a halfway marker. “Thanks anyway, Boris.” Balto told him bluntly as he leapt over the rail and landed on the sand below. “I’m going for a walk into town. Maybe I’ll find something while I’m there.” He began to walk away, not noticing that Boris was still murmuring to him.

“But if she really loves you, . . . no matter what you give to her, you will still make her happy.” 

The dirt path to Nome was slightly dusted with snow from days ago, but it felt quite soft, mushy and a bit cold against the pads of the wolf-dog’s feet. Snow in the mountains was nothing like this, Balto reminisced as he approached the wooden Inuit decoration. It was much thicker the higher up I went, but this snow is much better for racing. He sighed as a soft wind stroked against his back fur. He could see the faded white paint of the totem pole’s bottom link – the wolf – and only one thought came into his mind.

Mother . . . The vision of the white wolf spirit that had guided him and his daughter into the wild only a few months ago was still chiseled into his mind. He had yet to tell Jenna about his mother, Aniu, and the fact that now she was a Great Spirit to all wolves of the nearby area. I’ll tell her when she’s ready to know it . . . I’m sure she’ll understand, although I don’t understand it all myself. 

Passing by the totem pole, he ran into the snow-slushed streets of Nome where local townspeople and their beloved working dogs and pets mingled on the sides of the streets. He walked on the side of street, near the planked porches of the markets and local general stores that were awaiting the mid-day business rush.

This is still strange to me,Balto thought as he smiled at a couple of kids – a boy and a girl – that ran over to him, calling his name with glee. They rubbed his fur gently and yet without fear with their mitten-covered hands, calling him names like “hero” and “good dog,” which he never would have thought any human would ever say to him. But I guess the praise that these kids are giving me makes it all worth it.Their giggles and joyous laughter reminded him that these kids may not be here if it wasn’t for him, and that made him lick them on the cheeks as a friendly gesture. 

However, the trench-coated mother of one of the children gasped dramatically loud as saw the sight, and in protection of her daughter, she grabbed her arm, pulling the kid away from the hometown hero. “Stay away, wolf!” She yelled at the innocent mutt, kicking some mushy snow-slush in his direction. “I won’t let you take my child as your prey!” She huffed, leading the girl away from the wolf-dog in a heat of anger.

I guess some people will never change, Balto thought as he hung his head. The little boy had left him too, running back to his parents and leaving the town hero alone. I am still a wild animal to some people . . . and apparently there are humans that will continue to be ignorant of those that are different . . . He let out a sigh, lowering his ears in shame of his kind actions. 

The boy tugged on his father’s sleeve, pointing at the gray-brown dog that he had left behind. “Papa, Papa . . . why do some people not like that doggie over there?” He asked curiously. “Balto’s a nice dog. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“That’s right, son,” The boy’s father reassured him in a kind voice. “Balto is a nice dog – a very good dog. He’s a one-of-a-kind dog who saved many people two years ago, but some people just don’t like him because he is half-wolf.” 

“I don’t care what his breed is; I like him anyway,” the little boy told his father as they began to walk away. “Bye-bye, Balto!” The child’s farewell smile was faced towards the proud wolf-dog who had pricked up his ears and grinned happily back at the child.

Nice kid, Balto commented to himself. I’m glad to see not all humans are taught to hate; At least many of them changed once I returned with the serum, but it’s good to be judged by actions of bravery and courage instead of early judgment and fear. With that thought in mind, the hybrid walked deeper into town, hoping to find some inspiration for a Valentine’s Day gift for Jenna. 

All day he traveled around the town, hoping that the perfect gift lay just around the corner, but it was with no avail; Balto just couldn’t find anything that he thought Jenna would like.

Well, she did say something about treats, he told himself earlier. Maybe there’s a special food that she likes . . . Once he arrived at the general store in the middle of town, he looked inside the store through a window, only to quickly sigh as he walked away. Nah, that’s too common. Jenna deserves something better than a snack. I love her much more than that. Just the thought of an unhappy Jenna shunning him because of a bad thoughtless gift made him shudder.  

I just don’t want to make her unhappy of my gift,Balto’s head fell as night began to fall and he made his way back to the outskirts where Boris and the bears waited for him. He didn’t say much that night as he went doing his normal routine before covering himself into his slightly warm blanket and going to sleep. Not even Boris asked him about his search of a gift.

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

The next day was quiet and boring as the sun rose over the long wooden watercraft. Balto, although he didn’t want to sleep in that day, still had his beloved blanket over most of his body, mainly over his head.

It was near mid-day by the time Boris, who had been up with the sun, began to waddle over to the snoring form of the one that he had cared for almost like a child, paused, and leaned backwards to take in a deep breath. 

“WAKE UP, BALTO!” The gander honked loudly into Balto’s covered ears like a piercing siren. From the nearby forest, a large flock of birds flew upward from their respective tree-top perches, scattering throughout the mid-winter sky.

The wolf-dog’s head lifted up, still cloaked by the blanket, but he was slightly deafened by the alarm. After shaking off the fabric, a gasping Balto emerged, trying to catch his breath and recover from the instant shock. 

“Boris, . . . what are you doing?” Balto asked him once he caught his breath.

“You should be looking for that gift for Jenna,” Boris scolded him with a swinging finger in the air. “not sleeping the day away. It’s almost noon already!” 

“I know,” Balto yawned, stretching his legs as if to get up, but he remained stretched out on the ground lazily. “but I still can’t seem to find the right thing for her.” He rolled over onto his back with a groan. “I just don’t know what girls really like.” He turned to Boris. “What do you think? Do you know what the most beautiful husky in the world would love to have?”

Boris placed his wing under his chin, deep in thought. “Balto, I already gave you a suggestion, remember?” The gander reminded him. “Give Jenna a piece of your heart – sing to her everything that she means to you!” 

“I told you, I can’t sing,” Balto moaned. “Jenna would only make fun of me for sounding silly.” He let out a deep sigh. “Can you think of anything else that she would like? Something other than singing?”

“Well, I —” The gander’s comment was interrupted by a howl, one that didn’t sound wild like a wolf’s but more tame like a husky’s.  

Balto’s ears pricked up, twitching towards the noise as another howl – similar but slightly different in pitch – joined with the other. The wolf-dog smiled, recognizing the voices. “Hey, I recognize those howls!” He ran to the wooden railing, placing his front paws on the rail towards the totem pole and looked out to confirm his thoughts. “It’s Yukon and Denali!” He returned the howl, singing deep and loud as if his wild heritage had stirred up within him once more.

The gander only shook his head with a feathered palm on his brow. “That boy’s got to pay attention to what’s really important to Jenna . . .” Boris sighed as he moved to the other side of the boat where his mop and pail awaited him. 

Two red and white huskies were howling as they ran down the mushy dirt and grass path, kicking up soil with their paws. One of them was a bright red-burgundy, streaked with white markings on its face, mainly around the dog’s blue eyes. A red streak split its white face in two, like a blaze. The rest of its white markings were down its chest and belly, on its legs and under its tail. The other husky was much darker shade of burgundy than the first, and its markings were much different than the other as well. Its face was only marked with white around its muzzle, giving its soft brown eyes a bit of focus. Its chest, belly, under-tail and lower legs were also marked with white.

“Dad! Dad!” The blazed husky – a female – barked as she and her companion began to slow to a trot once their paws hit the sand. 

“Hey there, Dad!” The darker one spoke in a masculine tone, one similar to Balto’s. “How are you lately?”

Balto leaped down to the sand, greeting his children with friendly nuzzles. “I’ve been doing great, Denali,” First, he nuzzled his son, the darker Denali, before turning to do the same to his daughter Yukon. “and I know that you and your sister have been doing good as well.” 

“Yeah, Den-Den and I have been busy lately with the racing team,” Yukon commented. “With a big race coming up next week, the musher’s got us training almost daily.”

“So why are you not in the harness today?” Balto asked. “If the race is so important, why isn’t the team training hard today?” 

“Mr. Nelson felt that we deserved a break for the entire day today,” Denali stepped up to answer. “He’s a great musher – maybe one day we can get him to put you on our team for a big race one day, eh, Dad?” He lightly nudged his gray-brown patriarch with his shoulder.

“Nah,” Balto chuckled, soon finishing up with a sigh. “You’ve got already got a great lead dog in Yukon here. I don’t want to slow you guys down with my old age.” 

“Oh, stop, Dad!” Yukon turned her head to the side, nearly blushing thanks to her father’s bragging. “I may have survived the test run as a lead dog last month, but you’re the one that passed your sled-dog genes to all of us.”

“She’s right, Dad,” Denali added on to his sister’s comment. “Both you and Mom gave us that, but it was you that also gave us that sense of wildness that makes us different from the other huskies.” 

Balto immediately knew they were talking about his wolf genes, the ones that their eldest sister had once despised before finally accepting them. I’m glad they’ve understood their recessive wolf within, the proud father thought with a grin. And she accepted it as well once she learned about my imperfect breeding . . .

“Say, you two,” Balto called his children’s attention with a quick bark. “You’ve been around your mother in town as pups – what does she like?” The two dogs tilted their heads in confusion, telling the curious father to rephrase the question. “I mean, what things make her happy?” He lowered his head and ears in admission. “She and I promised to exchange gifts for the Valentine’s Day celebration in a couple of days, and I . . . I have yet to find the right present to show how much she means to me.” 

The two husky siblings paused for a few moments, lifting their heads deep in thought. After some time, one of them answered their father’s query.

“Well, I remember when we were little, Mom enjoyed singing us lullabies and other songs as we fell asleep,” Denali replied. “Once we were resting, she would hum the tune until she herself was asleep.” He gave a wink. “I used to pretend to be asleep – that’s how I learned about that.” 

“Yeah, Mom always said that nothing cheered her up more than hearing a beautiful song,” Yukon added. “We sang her a little song for her birthday last year, and she told us it was the most wonderful thing that we could give her . . .” She smiled, letting out a little giggle. “. . . even though Aleu tried to steal the spotlight with her howling near the end.”

“Oh, I remember that. She’s just more in tune with her wolf nature, that’s all,” Balto joined the laughter as the three of them had a nice laugh. Once they were finished, the wolf-dog invited them on deck. “Say, why don’t we finish this conversation out of this sun, huh? I’m sure Boris and the bears won’t mind.” 

“That sounds great,” Denali barked, quickly using his powerful hind legs to bounce him up onto the railing. “Ah, and the view’s just amazing from up here!”

“I thought you enjoyed the view from below, Brother dear!” Yukon joked, laughing as she leapt up and tackled her darker brother, causing him to become flattened between the prideful female and the wooden deck floor. “How’s this view for ya?” She giggled as he pushed her off of him.  

“Not exactly what I would call enjoyable,” Denali replied back as he chased after his sister. The two of them began to play-fight and laugh on the deck of the boat.

Balto only chuckled at the sight. “Ah, kids . . .” He was about to leap onto the deck himself, but a loud squawk and a flurry of feathers made him know what to do. “I think Boris can handle those two for now.” He began to walk away with another chuckle, heading for a nearby mountain to think alone. “Maybe I’ll come back after they settle down and I get some time to figure out something that’s better than me singing to her.” 

It took the quadruped about ten minutes to reach the foot of the mountain where he had liked watching the sun setting. He let out a frustrated yet soft sigh before beginning to scale the mount, traveling up the sturdy stone path up to the flattened ledge of the high summit.

I have to give her something that will stand out from all the rest, Balto thought as he paced himself up the pathway. Something that will make her feel like the luckiest girl in Nome . . . no, the world! . . . but what else is out there that Jenna would like? He allowed his mind to ponder on the subject of Jenna and his unknown Valentine’s Day gift to her as he placed one large beige paw in front of the other, carefully scaling the massive rock formation like he had done many times before in his life. 

After the ten minute climb, Balto looked out from the ledge of the mountain’s peak, peering out at the beauty and majesty of the Alaskan wilderness around and below him. The sun was high above him, heating his back fur with its soft rays. He turned to his right and looked out at the tiny town that was about a mile or so away from his present position.

Nome is so . . . so small from up here, Balto commented on his current surroundings. Everything is just . . . absolutely stunning when you look down at the world around here. Oh, this view would probably take her breath away if I brought Jenna up to see it. The inner joy that he suddenly began to feel deep within him made him cry out with a loud wail that seemed to echo against the rocky facades of the nearby mountains.  

Yes, this will be a great gift to show how much I love her . . . I’ll show her the world . . .

Within an hour, Balto returned from his private mountain trek and leapt over the wooden rail of his boat home. He smiled sweetly and tiptoed quietly past the sleeping forms of his son and daughter sleeping with a very tuckered-out Boris lying against Yukon’s side.  

Good, they’re sleeping, Balto thought with relief. I guess all that rough-housing and playing wore them out to exhaustion. Now even he began to let out a long yawn. Maybe I should get a nap in myself. I can start to sleep better now that I’ve figured out a great present for Jenna.

He let out a stretch on the deck, lowered his body on the stern area of the boat, and let his eyes close for a comforting siesta underneath the early afternoon sun. The wolf-dog had no idea how long he was going to rest, but he had a feeling that he didn’t have to worry about much anymore.

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

Surprisingly, Balto didn’t wake up until the next morning. He felt so relaxed and comfortable the previous afternoon that he had forgotten to wake up to wish Yukon and Denali good luck on their upcoming race and the strenuous training that they had to endure during the rest of the week.

“Oy, Balto!” The voice of Boris woke him up suddenly that morning. “Wake up, boychik! It’s morning!” 

The hybrid did his daily stretch of his legs and let out a long, loud yawn before standing and greeting the gander with a goofy grin. “Good morning, Boris. Sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye to the kids.”

“Yeah, but it’s all fine,” Boris replied. “They left before the sunset to head back to their master’s house, but they wanted me to tell you that they hope that you find the right Valentine’s Day gift for Jenna.” 

Still the half-wolf was all smiles. “Oh, I have, Boris. I took a little walk while you were babysitting those two . . . and I figured out the most wonderful thing to give her.”

“What is it?” Boris asked curiously.  

Balto walked over to the back of the grounded boat and lifted the front half of his body up onto the railing. His nose was pointed towards the nearby mountains near of the tiny Alaskan town. “There. I’m going to show her that for Valentine’s Day.”

“Mountains?” Boris scratched his head with a wing. “How can you give her mountains as a present?”  

Balto chuckled and shook his head. “No, no – I’m not giving her mountains, I’m going to take Jenna up to the top of my favorite peak.” He stepped down from the rail and lowered his muzzle bashfully. His cheeks were speckled pink as he smiled with joy. “It’s so wonderful up there . . . and oh, the view . . .” He sighed deeply, tossing his head back like a love-struck young lad. “I know she’s going to love being there with me.”

The gander sighed, realizing his own stupidity with his words. “Oh, that’s what you meant. I see now . . .” He waddled up to the stern of the ship, looking out at the peaks. “I’m sure she’d like that.” 

“Yeah,” Balto collapsed to the floor, completely out of it. “I don’t think Jenna’s been able to travel so far out since she hurt her leg two years ago, so this would be a great way for her to get away from the confined life of Nome.” He blushed again. “She deserves to see freedom a bit too. All dogs should get that chance to experience this at least a few times in their lives.”

“True, true,” The snow goose nodded his head with a bob. “You are still feeling that wild animal in you, eh?” He let out a chuckle. 

“I guess I am, Boris,” the half-wolf sighed, still smiling. “but that’s just how much I love her.”

“And that’s it? You’re just going to hope that a view of her house from a mountaintop with sweep Jenna off her feet?” Boris nagged. It was strange that he sounded so upset about an idea that he had just said was wonderful, and this truly took Balto aback with a surprise with a now-lifted head. “She might think it’s okay, but how much do you really love her, Balto?” 

The gray-brown hybrid lowered his ears at the rough comment to his relationship with the one he loved. Actually, he was too speechless to reply, but his mind raced with thoughts.

I do love her . . . Jenna’s the only dog I will ever love,Balto spoke to his racing heart. I thought I knew what would be a great gift for her, but . . . Boris is starting to think otherwise . . . I’m so confused by all of this! 

Oh, what should I do now?

The sigh of the Russian gander brought Balto back to his senses as he also felt the soft touch of his feathered palm rub his shoulder in a sign of comfort. “Oh, Balto – you worry too much.” 

Maybe I do . . . but not even I can figure out how to show Jenna how much she means to me . . . The wolf-dog didn’t feel like speaking aloud at the moment as he began to rise to his feet, his confidence in himself gone.

“Balto . . . Balto!” Boris’s honked call rang in his ears as he watched the wolf-dog cross the wooden beam that took him from the boat’s deck to the ground and in a sprint, he ran towards Nome without looking backwards. 

“Oh, Balto,” Boris sighed, sitting down on the wooden floor. “Maybe you do love her more than I really know, . . .” He sighed again, now falling backwards and spreading out his wings against the deck. “ . . . but I’m sure this is the right thing for you to do. If Jenna means so much to you, only you can discover what you must do now.”

Once his paws entered the dirt and slush of Nome, he could hear the hustle and bustle of the mid-morning rush, listening to the barks and howls of his fellow sled dogs hitched to their respective sled-runners. People were moving about Main Street as they usually did,  spending quality time with their families by walking the wooden sidewalks all bundled in their coats and mittens to keep warm from the mid-winter chill in the air. He saw a couple of sled team – both with his own children in the harness – traveling back and forth through the snowy street, heading out to get their busy work done by the end of daylight. The town dogs that weren’t of the sledding quality were also out for the day, sitting and loitering near the General Store and the Boiler Room, the main hangout of all the gossiping canines. 

Hmm, Balto stopped to think for a moment as the Boiler Room came in sight. I remember that Jenna was friends with some of the gossipers before she met me. I wonder . . . maybe they can help me on my personal quest. Why didn’t I think of this idea before? With a brave sigh, the wolf-dog scampered forward towards the wooden building in the far end of town near the sea.

This early in the morning, not very many dogs were inside lounging around the warmth of the heated boiler, but the gray-brown Balto did happen to recognize two females that he knew only because they were once acquaintances of his mate. 

One of them was a light beige Afghan Hound with brown markings around her head, the tips of her long droopy ears and her ankles. Her long tail covered her slender hind legs from the bitter winds of winter. Her russet eyelids were low, lined against her dark pupils with long, dark eyelashes, but her gaze was towards her much smaller friend beside her. The other dog was a lavender-gray Pomeranian with white fur lining her chest, halfway down her belly and covering the top of her head. Around her neck remained that vintage purple collar with a heart in the center of it, for once her heart had longed to be with Balto’s purebred rival, Steele; however, after Steele spun a tale of the team succumbing to the wilderness when they were sent to save the sick children two years ago and then he was proved to be false once Balto’s howling cry filled the night air throughout the town, she began to despise the black and white Malamute with a passion.

That must be them, Balto thought. I remember catching a glimpse of them a few times before Jenna and I became mates. Jenna hadn’t told him much about those two, except that their names were Dixie and Sylvie. But which is which? I can’t really tell . . . she didn’t tell me that part. 

After a small cough to clear his throat, Balto approached the two females with a little bit of nervousness in his voice. “Um, hi . . .”

The much larger of the two – the Afghan – turned her long-muzzled head toward him, taking a good, long look the half-wolf’s physique for herself. “Well, well . . . no wonder Jenna took a liking to you, Balto,” she spoke with a low, feminine yet nasally voice. “I’m surprised that Dixie here” – she nudged the toy dog breed as she said this – “didn’t start hitting on you once she dumped Steele that night you saved the town.” 

Dixie only giggled before replying to Sylvie’s sentence. “Sorry, but I knew better to take another girl’s mate, Sylvie.” Her voice was high and snooty, which were a pretty good match for how the spoiled canine was. “I may be a feisty gossiping pup with high lineage, but I’m definitely not a tramp. I know when a good dog’s heart belongs elsewhere.” She turned to Balto, smiling amorously at him and batting her eyes.

Balto took a gulp at the tiny female’s flirtatious gestures, quickly changing to a dopey grin as he sat down in front of them. “I know that you two know Jenna pretty well, right?” 

“Of course we do,” Dixie spoke up, her true-blue eyes gleaming. “We’ve known her since she was adopted by her human. You could say the three of us were as close as siblings despite our different breeds.”

“Yeah, those were the good old days,” Sylvie began to reminisce, leaning her head back as if she were trying to remember those years ago. “We loved to sing harmonies in here to any dog that would listen . . . ah, and Jenna, she had this soothing soprano tone at times . . . but she mostly had such a wide range that she could switch from a mellow bass to a shrill alto like  . . . pure magic.” She sighed, taking a relaxing breath before returning her gaze back to the wolf-dog. “Tell me, Balto – have you ever had the pleasure to hear Jenna sing?” 

Oh no – not the singing topic again, Balto groaned lightly before answering her. I thought I was able to get away from this topic . . . “No. No, I haven’t, Sylvie.” He tried to fake a convincing grin. “I bet it sounds beautiful.”

“Oh, it does, Balto!” Dixie yapped. “She made the rest of us sound so inferior when she left our group to be with you, but music remains one of our guilty pleasures. It’s like our close bond to each other.” 

“You should ask her to sing for you or something,” The Afghan Hound suddenly gasped, remembering something. “Hey, wait a minute – Valentine’s Day is a couple of days from today, and I’m sure Jenna’s told you about the big fête we dogs are having, right?” Balto nodded, although he really didn’t understand the term that she used to describe the planned celebration. Dixie and Sylvie – as was Jenna – were well-bred and taught many proper mannerisms, so it was natural for them to have a higher vocabulary than his own; thankfully, the mutt could easily accept that. “Well, she and the two of us are singing a little bit that night before we mingle with the crowd; maybe you can get there a little early to take in a quick listen, okay?”

Again Balto nodded. “Thanks; I’ll be sure to do that.” As he turned to walk away, he could hear the yapping farewells of his newfound fans.  

“See ya later, Balto!” Dixie was bouncing up and down as if her encounter with the hero of Nome had given her a sudden adrenaline rush. “Come by and see us more often, okay?”

“I’ll try, Dixie,” The wolf-dog smiled back, trying to be graciously nice and courteous. “Just don’t tell Jenna I was here, okay?” 

“Don’t worry, dear,”  Sylvie replied as she noticed the hybrid mutt’s departure from the doorway. “We’ll always be waiting . . . and you can trust us. A friend of Jenna’s is a definite friend of ours.”

Once Balto passed through the wooden door of the Boiler Room, he began to reply to the Afghan’s comment with a howl as his large paws sprinted across the slush of the town streets until he made his way to the clear stretch of dirt path that led to the totem pole and the relics of grounded boats that lined the sandy shoreline. He slowed down to catch his breath, lowering his head to the ground as he stopped in front of back of the wooden artifact of Inuit culture. Balto looked upwards; he could see the top of the pole – the symbol of a painted raven – turned away from him against the brightness of nearly-high sun that the carving blocked. 

Balto let out a heavy sigh. “Even you’ve turned your back on me, Mother.” His head collapsed towards the ground, not noticing the light wisps of white mist that had begun to form around his paws because of his closed eyes. “How can I give Jenna the perfect gift when no one has given me any other suggestions yet? Everyone has been saying I should sing . . . but I just can’t . . .” Tears dripped from his tightly-shut eyes, landing on the ground by his paws. “. . . I don’t know what else to do . . .”

As he cried, the fog began to swirl beside him, forming the figure of a lupine creature that was a little bit larger than himself. The mist grew lighter as the wolf took on a natural look – white fur, large clawed paws, flowing thick tail, and those almond-shaped eyes of piercing yellow and amber. It looked at the pathetic half-wolf with a sense of sympathy, although it didn’t show its emotions on its face. 

“You already know what path you must take, my Son . . .”

The gentle touch of the white muzzle against his skin and the familiar, warm voice of one that could keep him safe made Balto sniffle and open his eyes, gasping in silent surprise by the wolf’s appearance beside him. 

“M . . . Mother . . .?” was all he could mutter out at the time. His surprise was natural, for the two of them had not seen each other for several months; the last time they had met was once his daughter Aleu had accepted her fate of joining the wolf Clan as their new Alpha . . . and that day, Balto learned that the Great Wolf Spirit Aniu, the white wolf, was his mother . . . guiding him via his dreams to his daughter’s destiny.

“You did call for me, am I correct?” Aniu murmured, her black-tipped ears twitched.  

“Yeah, I did . . .” Balto’s ears fell to the sides of his neck. “But what do you mean by . . .”

By the time he began to look up, his query was left incomplete as the mist surrounded him and the white wolf. “You have loyal, trusting friends, my Son . . . You must learn to follow your heart and listen to the song that guides you from within . . .” 

“Follow . . . my heart?” Balto repeated, still unsure of what his spiritual dam meant by the words. “I . . . I don’t understand, Mother . . .”

However, the wolf spirit only faded into the mist, causing it to disappear. “Learn to listen to your heart’s song . . . Hear what it tells you, and you will understand . . .” Only Aniu’s low voice could be heard around the half-wolf as Balto’s ears pricked up in confusion. 

“Mother? . . . Mother, where are you?” Balto barked, sniffing the totem pole for some sort of a sign that the white wolf’s presence was still lingering around him, but it was no use. The spirit’s scent had disappeared along with her form as the mist cleared from sight.

Again, it’s like no one else was here, the wolf-dog muttered to himself with a sigh. He was all alone again He began to walk away from the pole and back towards his home where he knew Boris would be waiting for him. Boris wouldn’t understand this even if I told him, but I doubt anyone would . . . Balto began to speed up to a jog as he made his way from the dirt and slush to the sand of the shoreline and finally up to the wooden plank that led up to the main deck of his boat. 

The gander, just like he had hoped, was indeed waiting for him, running up to him with open wings. “Oh, Balto!” Boris wrapped his feathery arms around the wolf-dog’s neck in a hug. “I was so worried that you were going to leave me after what I told you earlier this morning. You seemed so upset . . . I’m so sorry to hurt your feelings!”

Balto was taken by surprise by the gesture of friendship, but he found himself able to smile, giving Boris a lick on the cheek to forgive him. “It’s okay, Boris. I could never leave you.” 

“Whew! Thank goodness,” The goose breathed a sigh of relief. “Where’d you run off to so suddenly?” He curiously asked.

“Just in town for a while . . . to talk to other dogs, that’s all,” Boris gave Balto a strange glance, as if to suspect that Balto was out cheating or something. The wolf-dog blushed at the sight of the curious gander’s thought and brushed it away with a bark. “No, it’s nothing like that, Boris! I would never break the loyal vow that Jen and I share . . . and you know that for a fact!” 

“So, why is it so hard for you to find a gift to show how much you love her, huh?” Boris snapped back, causing the wolf-dog’s ears to droop down his neck.

“I . . . I don’t wanna sing, that’s all,” Balto explained. “I mean, I’ve talked to Yukon and Denali, a couple of Jenna’s friends, and even you . . .” And my Mother too, it seems, Balto added in his personal thoughts. “and all I hear is ‘Sing to Jenna! Sing to Jenna!’ I just don’t want to, okay!” He let out a deep huff, signaling his obvious frustration. “There has to be some other thing I can do to show my love.” His angered rage had exhausted him, making him collapse onto the ground like an old mutt that had worked nonstop for several hours. 

His eyes began to droop, almost to the point of falling asleep, but a small white paw with small black fingered claws awoke him with a gasp. It was Muk, the smaller of the two polar bear brothers, and he only smiled with his much larger sibling behind him as a pillow cushion for his back.

“Uncle Balto,” the tiny bear cub began to mutter. “sorry to overhear you, but if you’re looking for a present for Jenna, why not give her these?” He had had his other paw behind his back, hiding something, but once he said ‘these’, he revealed a small bouquet of wildflowers colored in many beautiful hues. 

Balto gasped at the plants with awe. “Oh, how wonderful . . .” The wolf-dog’s ears and body perked up, causing him to stand to his feet; this time, his voice was louder and more positive than ever. “How wonderful! This is perfect!” He pushed his nose against Muk’s, pressing him back into Luk’s large lap. “Where did you find these?”

“I didn’t find them; Luk did,” Muk answered. “They were up the hills past town.” Luk let out a couple of mumbles and snickers; the smaller bear paused to catch and translate his brother’s words. “Luk says that the humans don’t go up there and neither do the other dogs, so it should have plenty more left for you to make a gift for Jenna.” 

“That’s great!” Balto, energized with this newfound energy of hope, leapt over the wooden rail, landing at the foot of the boat’s buried bow. “Take me there!"

The two bears looked at each other with large grins before scampering down the wooden plank to guide their adoptive uncle to the mysterious flower field they had discovered. Boris remained on the boat once again; he didn’t want to impose on their fun and merriment. The gander just sighed and flew himself up to the top of the boat’s only room, looking out at the shadows of the ones he called his own, despite their different species and looks.

“Good luck, boy,” He muttered underneath his breath, speaking only to himself. “I hope this will do it . . . but I only hope you give Jenna something from the heart . . . your heart, not someone else’s.” Boris sighed again as he shut his eyes for an afternoon snooze, awaiting the hour when Balto and the bears would return. 

(Part II – completed 2/18/08)


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to be concluded in Part III: Something From the Heart . . .