Toby Recharged: Rising Star

To the woman who provided me with invaluable insight into the minds of girls, a gender whom she says seldom even make sense to themselves.

Thank you, Dragon's Lady.

The wind blew cold outside the thin wall. Wall, not walls, because the canister was round. And metal. And filled most of the way with garbage that, even frozen solid and covered with a layer of ice, stank. The pup inside shivered, fighting to hold off an encroaching shadow, a well even darker than the darkness within the can. She knew what was coming; her family had had enough near brushes with death even before she was born, brushes she had heard about in their stories and even witnessed once in her mother's case. But this was no near miss, and neither was it a bedtime story. This was the real deal; the Grim Reaper was on his way, in the can at that very moment it seemed, ready to steal away her spirit with her final breath.

Her name was Star, daughter of Toby and Luna. And as she struggled not to fall asleep, not to die, thoughts continued to eat away at her will to survive like freezing water pushing wide a crack in a rock. These thoughts all boiled down to one at heart, just six words in length.

It's my fault for being ugly.

To better explain how she came to this conclusion, we will have to look back a few weeks. Star had been out for a walk with her sisters Angel and Arrow, her brothers Caspar, Balthasar, and Melchior (so named because they were all born on Christmas Eve), and their mother. All were attached to leashes held by Luna's owner, Connie Calvin, but that did little to stop them from doing as pups on the main street of town are wont to do, namely darting this way and that, jumping on the ankles or over the feet of passers-by, barking to every dog and half the people in sight, and generally making a ruckus. The pups' diminutive size, plus the fact that they never tried to go any one direction all at the same time, was some saving grace for Connie. Luna, on the other hand, was hard-pressed to get her young to behave as they twined their leashes around each other's, amongst her legs, and generally tangled them like so many vines in a fence.

Their antics were disrupted by a bark from close by. “Hey Angel!”

“Lily!” Angel barked in excitement, drawing the attention of the others as a bushy-furred Akita drew near. Except for Angel, none of them had seen this dog before. But Angel had met her a week ago while playing with the family in a vacant lot, and had been hoping to see her again ever since. The other pups, who had not met her then because of an injury that prevented her from playing, were anxious to do so, and so for the first time that day they all started straining in one direction with their sister.

Shushing their excited yipping, Luna smiled at the newcomer. “You must be the famous Lily,” she greeted cordially. “I'm Luna.”

“Hi,” Lily greeted, tail wagging as she fell into step with the family. “I don't think Angel mentioned you.”

“Really?” Luna raised one eyebrow. “Well, she may not have mentioned me to you, but she's certainly been anxious to see you.”

This seemed to please Lily. “Yeah, sorry I haven't been able to drop by. My paw was killing me.”

Luna nodded. “Mm-hm, so I heard. Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, lots.” Lily paused to extend the healed leg backwards as if to make a show of how good it felt. Then she had to increase her pace slightly to catch up. “So, what about the others? I don't think I've met all these guys before.”

More barking broke out from the pups, all of them doing their utmost to talk all at once. Luna, raising her voice, called out, “One at a time, one at a time.”

They quieted down then, and Caspar was the first to speak again. “My name is Caspar,” he greeted.

“I'm Melchior,” added the second boy. “But most people just call me Mel.”

“Balthasar,” added the third, “But just call me Zar.”

Lily's face twisted just a little. “Weird names,” she said.

“We were named on Christmas,” explained Star. “That's how I got my name, Star.”

“Huh, finally a normal name,” Lily murmured. Then in response to some rather displeased looks, she added, “No offense.” Looking to the oldest pup, Arrow, she asked, “What about you, kid?”

“Name's Arrow,” she replied. As a pre-emptive counter to the usual question about her appearance, she added, “I'm adopted.”

“Ah,” Lily nodded. “Gotcha.”

“Toby and I adopted Arrow a few months before we had our own pups,” Luna explained.

Lily seemed to study Arrow for a moment, her mouth and eyes set in the ponderous way Connie or Eugene would adopt sometimes when they played that odd game of putting patterned pieces together on the floor or table. After a moment she nodded again, smiling. “Well, I guess it was lucky for Angel you adopted a girl,” she said cheerfully. “It's not much fun being the only girl in the family.”

“The only...? Luna was taken aback by this remark.

“But I'm a girl too,” Star protested.

Lily seemed surprised, and a bit rattled. “You are? Oh, uh, sorry. I guess I got confused; I mean, you look so much like your dad when I met him that...”

Luna headed her off. “Yes, Star takes after Toby quite a bit.”

Lily paused for a long moment, then changed the subject. “So, uh, where are you guys headed?”

Star paid little attention to the rest of the conversation, too busy mulling over this news.

Now, as I am sure you have seen if you ever spent a great deal of time with puppies, sometimes they are inclined to have a short attention span. With young minds eager to explore, it's easy for them to get caught up in one rabbit trail after another, sometimes finding themselves back on the original one with no idea that they've ever left it.

This had often been the case for Star, but on this occasion the news that she did not look like a girl struck a deep and unsettling note in her mind. Although she did manage to forget about it briefly at dinner, as she settled down to rest she found that discordant tone coming back to haunt her afresh. As far as she could reason, she wasn't beautiful like her mother or her sister. Luna had creamy orange fur that shimmered when the sunlight fell on it, sunlight rare in the early part of the year but growing steadily with the passing days. Her figure was slender but strong, the blood of pedigrees and fighting dogs mingled in her with a trace of wolf, each one's best seeming to be at its zenith in her. Although a third-generation mutt, she bore herself with dignity and elegance as if she were of royal lineage.

As for Angel, she was the spitting image of Luna. Although her figure was a great deal more rotund with baby fat and short, chubby puppy bones, Angel's fur was exactly that of her mother, the shape of her face showing hints of refinement even at an early age, her eyes bright and clear, and her senses as sharp for her age as those of the wolves four generations or more back in the family tree. Friends and strangers alike noticed and often commented how much she looked like Luna, and Toby had even said that Angel, “looks just like you did when we were that age.”

But she never got comments like that. Her fur was long like Luna's, and from the neck back she and Angel were shaped much the same. However, her fur was brown – not a distinct chestnut brown like Toby's, which was in both human and canine opinions a rather handsome shade – but mingled with Luna's orange hue. Ordinarily one would expect beautiful and handsome colors to produce a pleasant result. But as Star looked over herself, she decided her fur looked more like rusty metal and mud.

And her nose, oh her nose! It had to be, she thought, twice the size of Angel's. She was over-guessing, really, but when one is small and sensitive about one's appearance, even the slightest difference in the size of anything is magnified like a fairground artist's caricature. So it was that a difference you would probably need a tape measure just to confirm (if you bothered to do so over so small a matter) left Star feeling like little short of an elephant.

Now to some of you, it may seem quite a triviality how Star looked. What did her outward appearance matter, especially in the canine world where male and female look almost exactly alike? Indeed, in some dog breeds – collies, for instance – one might say that the males look better in appearance than the females, and in just about every breed they look especially similar as puppies. But think, if you can – some know all too well – what it might be like to find yourself tremendously fat (if you are a girl), or ridiculously thin (if you are a boy, especially one who wants to be a football or rugby player). That is how Star felt upon discovering that in the eyes of some she looked like a boy.

If a human met with such unfortunate news, they would, and in reality often do, go to extreme lengths to rectify their ugliness. This is exactly what Star did, and from that day on for several weeks she began a serious regimen of trying to un-uglify herself. She tried a number of self-designed beauty treatments. Some, like watching Luna to learn how to wash herself and neaten her fur, were moderately successful. Others, like rolling in fur that Luna had shed and trying to make it stick, were not quite so much so (it did, however, make her smell a bit more like Luna, which kept her at it for a surprisingly long time). She was partly deterred and partly spurred on by the fact that nobody seemed to notice.

Unfortunately for Star, no amount of research can alter one's genetics. And since plastic surgery had not yet been pioneered, at least for canine purposes, her efforts only made it just so far before meeting with defeat. Not to be deterred, she became all the more diligent and began to ask Luna to teach her how to do those things she had failed to accomplish by mere observation.

It was on one such occasion that Angel came in with a request. Luna was just in the middle of explaining the trickier details when she stopped.

“Hold on. What... oh, Angel. Is something wrong?”

Star looked up, curious. Since Angel, for reasons she could not understand, looked more like a girl than she, anything she did must be worth observing. Who knew what the secret of looking nice might be?

The pup in question shook her head. “No,”she replied. She hesitated then, and for a second Star could have sworn her sister looked right at her with an expression of distrust. But why? Whatever the reason, she took a step back and whispered to Luna, “Could you lean down here for a sec?”

Luna leaned down so that her ear was right next to Angel, who stuck her nose as far in as it would go before she whispered something. Star strained to listen, but all she heard was the barest hints of sound, more like a soft wind than actual words.

Whatever it was, Luna pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Did she say where you were going?” she asked.

Angel shook her head. “Just around,” she said offhandedly.

The matriarch thought for a moment. “Alright,” she agreed, “But don't be gone more than an hour or so, alright?”

Angel nodded. “Okay,” she said, and took off.

An hour or so? Just around? Star might have been ugly, but she wasn't dumb. Angel was going out to play with her friends. “I wanna go too!” she complained.

Luna shook her head. “No, why don't we let Angel do this herself?” she suggested. “She was the one Lily invited. Maybe you can go along next time.”

Star hung her head dejectedly. “Okay.” Defeated in that, she returned to the original subject. “So, how do I get behind my ears again?”

Star spent a good hour or two more peppering her mother with questions, and several more off by herself trying and trying to perfect what she had been taught. She primped and preened, fluffed and flattened, licked and scratched, and did everything she could think of to change her appearance. In the end all she accomplished was a nearly bald spot behind her right ear, and several places where “teasing” as it is called when women do it to their hair, had all but turned into outright harassment. She pulled Arrow aside briefly from a game of tug-of-war with Eugene to ask her opinion.

“I think you're just making a big deal about it,” Arrow replied. “Who cares what Lily says anyway? You look fine.”

That's easy for her to say, thought Star as she walked away after a half-hearted “thank you.” She actually looks like a girl.

And it was true. As a matter of fact, in some regards Arrow looked more like Luna than Star did. Oh sure, her brown fur and black markings were completely unlike Luna's tidily bordered lighter hues. But at a good four months at least older than the other pups, she was already beginning to slim out and grow longer legs. Despite being less than half-grown, she already looked a fine specimen of a dog and every inch a lady.

But I look like an overgrown dust bunny with feet, thought Star, exaggerating the facts even after her haphazard grooming attempts.

She heard footsteps and saw Connie coming her way. In no mood to play as she usually would, she moved aside to avoid being stepped on and let the girl pass. Then, as the towering human did so, a thought hit the pup.

Connie's beautiful, she thought. She knew this because she had once sat on the bed while Connie talked to a strange book she called a diary. As best Star could guess, the book must not have very good hearing, since Connie always talked very slowly to it. She also scrawled with a thing called a pen as she spoke, making black marks on the clean white pages. All this had seemed like another human oddity at the time, but now Star distinctly recalled Connie telling her diary that a boy in her class liked her and had even passed her a note in geometry that day asking her to be his girl.

If that boy liked Connie, she thought, then Connie must be beautiful. True, she was not too comely by dog appearances – all that bald skin and only a long bunch of hair atop her head. But maybe, thought Star, If I learn how humans look nice, I can learn how to make myself look nice for dogs. It was worth a try. And circumstances being what they were, Star would have settled even for ugly, so long as dogs knew she was a girl. With her tail wagging, she followed Connie up the stairs to her room.

Luck was with her. Connie went into her room, not bothering to close the door all the way. Star nudged it open and saw the human girl opening a drawer and removing several objects made of materials such as glass or wood.

Star watched curiously as Connie stuck her fingers in a jar and began to dab a strange paste onto her face, smearing it around until it covered her features, then blended with them as if it were being absorbed into her skin. As it did so, it left behind an odd difference. Connie's visage seemed a touch brighter than before, and as she regarded herself in the mirror, a smile spread across her lips. Next she stuck something resembling a head of cauliflower with a black stem into another jar, raising a puff of dust. This she proceeded to dab onto her cheeks. Next came something like a very tiny black toothbrush, which she ran not over her teeth, but her eyelashes.

Star regarded this with some confusion. Luna had told her before that Connie practiced this ritual, something the humans called “makeup,” to make herself better-looking. But how could rubbing stuff on one's skin make one prettier? The last time she had gotten something in her fur, during a frowned-upon snack at some spilled garbage, the humans had given her a bath to get rid of it.

On the other hand, maybe this time was different. What if these jars, the ones Connie kept on her night stand, were the only ones that could make someone sweet and pretty, instead of yucky and smelly? It made sense – after all, things kept in high places were generally considered important by people. If only she could get up there and try it for herself, she thought.

Then, as she surveyed the dresser and the objects near it, she realized she could get up there. Connie had pulled a box from under the bed to look through its contents, and its top was low enough for Star to easily climb up onto it. From there she could make her way to the bed, and from there to the night stand where sat the precious jars of beauty.

Star climbed onto the box, then jumped up toward the bed. Missing her mark, she grabbed the quilt in her teeth and tried with little success to claw her way up. Connie, noticing the tug, glanced down and smiled, “Star,” she said in a voice that pretended to chide, “You want to climb up on the bed?” She bent down and scooped Star up in her hands, depositing her on the blanket beside her. “Okay, but don't make a mess.” She then returned to her makeup, still making conversation. “You know, Luna liked to sleep up here before you pups were born. I bet that's why you like it so much.”

Star made her way across the mattress to Connie's side to observe the goings-on. Unfortunately there was little to watch, for after a few more smears and a dab or two, Connie nodded as if satisfied with her work and got up, replacing the lids on the jars. “Be good,” she said, patting Star on the head, and left.

Star's heart jumped in her throat. This was her chance! As soon as she was sure Connie was quite gone, she jumped from the bed to the low table. She studied the jars, trying to figure out which one to open first. Finally, she picked out the one she was fairly sure held the same cream Connie spread on most of her skin and set about trying to pry it open. At first it looked like she would have no luck, but then she managed to clamp the jar between her front paws and work the lid off with her teeth. Inside was a strange, sugary-smelling paste. She wondered how best to get the stuff on her face, and after some thought, she pushed a paw into the jar and pulled it out, coated with the goo. Experimentally, she ran the paw over her face as best she could, smearing it through her fur and around her features like a cat washing. Better use a lot of it, she thought. After several more pawfuls, she decided she had enough and moved on to the next jar. This one held some black stuff that smelled like coal, and she realized from the brush inside that this was what Connie had applied to her eyelashes. So she stuck a paw in and rubbed some of that over her eyes. She was sure this treatment must be making her beautiful, but in reality the smeared black patches and plastered-on cream made her look more like a very muddy burglar.

Next, she found the odd cauliflower-looking thing upside-down with its stem in the air, sitting in a dish that concealed the white top. Batting a paw, she knocked the thing out of the dish along with a cloud of dust that made her cough and sneeze. Once the dust settled, she regarded this peculiar artifact. The top was not bumpy and rubbery like normal cauliflower, but smooth and soft to the touch like the fur on her mother's belly where she liked to snuggle on cold nights. Now what did Connie use this for again? she tried to remember. Oh yeah, she put it on her cheeks. So she leaned in close, only to sneeze at the chalky smell of it. Blech! she thought. But the hope of beauty had her in its sway, so she held her breath, leaned in, and started to rub her face in it, first one side and then the other. It was about then that she heard a yelp of surprise from the doorway. Startled, she gasped and then coughed, turning to see Melchior in the door, staring as Caspar and Balthasar came to join him. They too stared in total surprise.

“Star,” said Balthasar slowly, “What is that...?”

Any hopes that they might have simply been surprised at her transition from ugly duckling to swan princess died instantly as Caspar let out a snort. “What did you...?” he asked, but then his words were lost in mirthful chortles. He and the other two boys began to laugh, then to roll around the floor and over one another in hysterics, tears flowing from their eyes at the force of their laughter. “Mom, get a load of this!”

Star frantically looked for a way to hide herself, sure that her effort had somehow gone horribly wrong. But before she could execute an escape route...

“What's all the... Star?”

Luna was in the room. Worse, Angel was right behind her. Both stared for one slack-jawed second. Luna kept the open mouth and shocked position. Angel, on the other hand, joined her brothers rolling on the floor in hysterics.

“Star,” asked Luna, “What did you do?”

She hunched up with her tail between her legs. “I tried some of Connie's makeup,” she admitted sheepishly.

“Connie's makeup?” asked Luna, still too shocked to do anything but stare and ask questions. Had Star been able to see herself, chances are she would have been equally appalled. Her brown fur was now covered with cream a shade darker than Connie's skin, mottled with other substances ranging from bright pink to jet black. Where normally it lay fairly flat on her body, now around the edges of her face the longer fur stood out in spikes like a hedgehog's. And her paws, which were still caked in the goo from the first jar, had smudges of black and pink like a paint job gone horribly wrong.

“Look at you,” Luna went on, “You got it all over yourself!” Now at least she was moving, bounding over to the nightstand to pluck Star up and lower her to the floor. “Honey, what were you thinking?” she asked.

Star looked up at her with such a hopeful gaze that all thought of scolding left Luna before the words even came. “I wanted to look pretty,” she defended herself.

“Pretty?” cackled Angel, who was rolling and curling so much one might have thought she was having a flea attack. “You look like a paint set threw up on you!”

Luna turned. “That's enough!” she barked, shooing Angel and the boy pups out of sight. Then, returning to Star, she began cleaning her daughter up. “What am I going to do with you?” she mumbled between licks. Then she grimaced and said something about charcoal as her tongue brushed one of the spots around Star's eyes.

Star hung her head. The wonder-dummy blows it again, she thought. “I wanted to look nice,” she explained. “I thought if I used some of that stuff Connie does, I would look pretty like she does.”

Luna actually smiled at that. Ah, pups, she thought. It seemed no matter what age or species, the young always had a fascination with playacting. She had observed it quite well – sometimes too well – in Toby when they were pups, and she had even seen humans practice the behavior. Eugene liked to tinker around with various odds and ends and play at being a mechanic or an inventor. Connie kept dolls, which were on their way to being relegated a “guilty secret” of sorts, but still used once in a while when she felt like pretending to be a mother or housewife. And now Star, it seemed, was pretending to be Connie.

Luna just shook her head and smiled over her daughter's naivete. “Star,” she chided softly, “You don't need to look like a human. You're a perfect little puppy.”

Star wanted to say she was anything but perfect, rather that she was completely and unequivocally ugly, but she chose to say nothing. What was there to say? How could beauty understand the plight of the hideous?

Luna continued. “Now I can appreciate it if you want to pretend to be Connie, but don't get into her makeup anymore, please. Alright?”

Star nodded, feeling worse than ever. Nobody seemed to understand her. Her sister's friend thought she was ugly, her whole litter laughed at her, and even her mother, as caring as she seemed, was oblivious to the trials of being uncomely. It was a sad, sad state of affairs indeed.

Luna nodded with satisfaction and gave her one more affectionate lick up the face. “Good,” she said. “Now, let's head downstairs and get back with the others.”

Alas, as I suspect you have guessed by now, this fared little better than Star's attempts with the makeup. For as they neared the top of the stairs, Luna heard what sounded like laughter coming from below. And it wasn't nice laughter.

Sure enough, there was the rest of the litter at the foot of the stairs, laughing themselves sick. Caspar was rolling around looking for all the world as if he were trying to keep his sides intact with his paws. Zar was flat on the floor like a rug with Mel propped against him, and Angel, the only one still on her feet, was shaking like a sapling in a hurricane.

Luna heard a yelp of anguish as bitter as any physical pain, and turned to see Star running back to Connie's room. Luna could well sympathize with the magnitude of her daughter's emotions, with one exception: where Star felt hurt, she felt anger. Anger, and disappointment. What kind of pups was she raising? Hadn't she taught them to be nice, especially to family? With wrath barely contained as if a storm cloud were struggling to withhold a flurry of lightning, she stormed down the stairs until she was standing directly over her offspring. She stood there, the tiny remaining fragment of reason in her bidding her not to open her mouth lest she say something the pups should not repeat.

Despite her silence, the pups suddenly became aware of her as her shadow loomed over them. They all stopped and stared up at her in silence as tails crept between legs and ears slunk down like they were wax figures melting, trying to escape into the floor.

“Listen,” she said through clenched teeth. “As funny as you may find it, I want this business of laughing at Star to stop right now.”

Nobody answered.

“Your sister is up there right now crying because she heard all of you laughing at her when I went to bring her back downstairs. So all four of you, go up there and apologize to her.”

“But Mom,” pleaded Angel, “She looked so...”

Luna shot her a look so severe it silenced her at once. Without another word, Angel joined the others trooping up the stairs in single file.

Star was huddled under the bed amongst the dust, shaking with misery. Why were they so mean? How could her own brothers and sister, her own flesh and blood, treat her this way? What had she done wrong with the strange makeup that foiled its cosmetic effects? And over these others, like an endless dirge repeating without end, that question of questions.

Why was she so ugly?

Her self-pity and self-hate were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing his throat. She managed to uncurl enough to see her kin through tear-blurred eyes.

“We're sorry,” Caspar said quietly.

“Yeah,” agreed Balthasar. “Real sorry.”

Angel was next. “If there's anything we can do to make up for it,” she offered teasingly.

“Angel!” her brothers all turned to her with foreheads wrinkled and lips drawn back.

Angel shrank from the withering looks. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

Star looked out at all of them. “Why did you laugh at me?” she asked weakly.

Melchior smirked just a little at the memory, and his face started to twitch. “Well,” he snerked, “It was kind of funny, the way you...” he stopped, withering under looks from the other two. The only thing that kept his comments from drawing Star's tears afresh was the fact that, even as upset as she was, she could see that deep down he did feel sorry for her and for what he had done.

“Sorry,” he admitted, tail lowered and ears drooping down the sides of his head like two pancakes. “It may have been funny, but it was wrong to laugh. At you. Really.”

She wiped her face with a paw and sniffled. Blinking back the remaining tears, she even forced a smile. “It's okay,” she said quietly. She knew it was wrong, but it seemed to her that lying was better than refusing honest apologies.

By the time supper was served, Star was beginning to feel somewhat assuaged over the whole matter, helped by Luna's close attention and the affirmation that she didn't need makeup anyway.

But trouble was still lurking, and it soon reared its head. The boy pups, being given to quick eating even by canine standards, finished their supper in no time flat. So did Arrow, whose eating habits still bore some trace of the hurriedness which had been necessary in her days as a stray. They wandered off to other parts of the house, and Luna shortly thereafter had to follow because Melchior, whose interest in the creature comforts often led him into places a dog shouldn't be, had slept too close to the fireplace and got stung by a spark that leaped out of a spruce log. Toby, out of deference to the Calvin parents' wishes, was taking his supper at home, leaving only the two sisters, Star and Angel.

At the outset of the meal, Luna had stationed the girls at opposite ends. But now Angel walked over, Star hoped, to say something kind in restitution for before.

“You really did look kind of goofy wearing that stuff,” she began. “Why'd you do that?”

Star deliberately took her time eating the present mouthful. Luna had told them more than once that you should always try to assume the best of people, especially family. And while Angel's words suggested clawing at a wound just beginning to heal over, her tone at least was sisterly. So maybe she wanted to make up, but Star wasn't interested in rehashing it. “I don't want to talk about it,” she murmured after swallowing her bite.

“No, really,” Angel persisted. “Why would you smear stuff like that on your face? I mean I know humans do it; they do a lot of stuff that doesn't make sense. But why would you?”

Star swallowed another mouthful for which she was quickly losing her appetite, and sighed. “I thought it would make me look pretty. It works on humans.”

Angel raised an eyebrow and drew back. “Well it made you look like...”

“Like a paint set threw up on me, I know,” said Star, starting to break down again. “I just want to look nice like you and Mom are.”

Angel turned her head to hide the smirk growing on one side of her mouth. “Guess you'll have to get used to being ugly,” she replied as if commenting on the weather.

That hurt. Really hurt. Not just the fact of being called ugly by her own sister, and after that sister had apologized, no less, but the suggestion that such a condition might go on indefinitely, cut to the very heart of Star's insecurities. “Could you just go away?” she asked.

Angel shrugged, not bothering to look sorry now, and walked away.

Star's first impulse was to go crying to Luna again, but she resisted. Why give Angel something else to gloat over? I'll show them, she thought. I'll show her. I will be beautiful like Mommy, no matter what it takes to do it.

If Star had been anxious for Luna's attention before, now she all but demanded it. Every waking moment she was at Luna for this, that, or the other. A veritable disciple, she was utterly absorbed with her desire to be like her mother. Angel, to her immense satisfaction, made herself scarce much of the time. Between her sister's absence and Toby's usual focus on the boys, Star had her mother all to herself.

And yet for some reason the less Angel was around, the more Luna seemed to focus on her. At every chance, she was looking out the window or checking at the pet flap to see where Angel was. In a bitterly ironic way, it was worse than when Angel was around!

This period of tension came to a head one evening when Angel came home late again. Luna was so agitated she left Star in the middle of the conversation with hardly a “hold on a moment,” and headed to confront her wayward daughter.

“Where have you been?” she asked.

Angel raised an eyebrow. “With my friends,” she replied, stating the obvious.

Luna frowned. “Why are you always late?” she persisted.

Angel looked offended. “Always late? I was early just yesterday.”

Star could attest to that. The more Angel got between her and Luna, the more she noticed when her sister wasn't around.

Luna, to Star's satisfaction, did not seem mollified by the answer. “Well you've been late three times this week. Now what's going on?”

The pup rolled her eyes. “Ease up, Mom. I just lost track of time is all.”

“Ease up?” Luna echoed, growing more agitated by the minute. “Is that how you talk to me?”

Star's moment of hope that Angel would be grounded was killed by the pup's contrite reaction. “Sorry,” she said, ears leaning down in a gesture of submission. “I just don't see what the problem is.”

Luna's ears were starting to lean back too, but the edge in her voice was checked. “What I'm trying to say,” she persisted, “Is that we worry about you sometimes. It's our job, your father and me both.”

Angel's drooped ears matched the annoyance in her voice. “There's nothing to worry about, Mom. I was just hanging out with my friends and lost track of time, that's all.”

“How?” asked Luna. “How hard is it to remember, 'Be home by dark?' or 'Don't be gone for more than an hour?'”

This time Angel's voice sounded hesitant, like a rock climber with poor-treaded footwear. “Well,” she said slowly, “Maybe it's because none of the others have to be home then.” With an edge to her voice, she added, “They get to be out any time they want.”

Star, still listening, felt slighted by this. Not because the other dogs had more privileges, but because her sister, who already had it made in her book, was complaining.

“Well, that makes sense,” Luna conceded, not in the least discouraged by Angel's tone, “But your friends aren't you, and they don't have me for a mother. I think it's great that you're out there having a good time, but I want you to be home on time, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” grumbled Angel as she walked into an unoccupied room to be alone. Luna, undefeated, followed after her.

Star heard nothing more of the conversation, but could not miss the disappointed expression and drooped posture her mother wore coming out of the room. Nor could anyone, even a human, miss the deep breath she took in and let out, her whole body seeming to lift and sag with the air. “Whew,” she said in a low, weary voice.

“Mommy?” asked Star, trotting up, “Why is Angel acting like such a...” She leaned her body forward and lifted her head to bring it as close as possible to Luna's. “P-i-g?” she whispered.

Luna shook her head in uncertainty and disapproval. “I don't know,” she admitted, “But try not to talk like that about your sister. I think she's having some growing pains, maybe.”

“Growing pains?” asked Star. “What are those?”

Luna chuckled in spite of herself. “It's a figure of speech,” she explained. “Real growing pains are when a pup's bones grow too fast for the rest of the body to keep up and it makes the muscles ache.”

Star tilted her head. “So Angel's growing too fast?”

“No, she has a different kind.” Luna's eyes drifted back to the room Angel was in. “In her case, she wants to grow up faster than she is, so she's getting impatient.”

“I wanna grow up fast too,” the pup thought out loud. “But it doesn't hurt.”

“It's not a physical pain, exactly,” she replied. “More of a mental pain.”

Star's eyes widened. “Oh, like a headache.”

“Mmm, something like that,” Luna agreed. “I used to get that kind of growing pains when I was a pup. Your aunts Haley and Phoebe were always so giggly that I just couldn't wait to get out of there.”

“Well, I don't want to be around here either,” said Star. “Angel's too giggly for me.”

“But she hardly ever giggles,” Luna pointed out. She knew what Star really meant was that she wanted to be like Luna was as a pup. She tried to think of some answer to the problem, but Angel's attitude kept eating away at her mind like termites in wood, and she couldn't think straight. “Anyway, we probably shouldn't talk about her behind her back like this.”

“Why not?”

“Because it's gossip, and gossip is wrong.”

“You and Daddy gossip,” Star pointed out. “You talk about us when you think we're asleep.”

Luna made a face. “That's different,” she said. “When we talk about you and your brothers and sisters, we're doing it to figure out how to take better care of you. That's our job. Gossiping is when it's someone else's personal business and you don't have a right to be talking about it. And it's also one of the reasons I didn't get along with my sisters.”

“Oh,” said Star. Well, if it was like her aunts, then she didn't want to do it. Especially if it was the very reason her mother didn't like them much. “Is that why Angel doesn't want to be around us?” she asked. “Do we gossip too much?”

“I don't think we do gossip. Angel just... needs a little space, that's all. Maybe we can check on her later.”

“Okay,” Star sighed. “Wanna play?”

“Alright,” Luna agreed, and they found a rag and began to tussle, in which they were quickly joined by the three boys and Arrow. Despite the edge in numbers, Star couldn't help noticing Luna was not as attentive as she otherwise tended to be; wasn't employing as many of the twists and tugs she often used to keep them guessing and sharpen their reflexes. She's too busy thinking about Angel, she realized. She does that a lot these days. It wasn't that Star didn't care about her sister. She just wanted attention from her mother. But Angel's unhappy behavior and her not-listening were making Luna unhappy, which made Star unhappy. So if I can make Angel happy, she reasoned, Then Mommy will be happy, and then she can play with me. So she left the boys and Arrow to keep Luna busy and trotted into the next room to find Angel. She tentatively approached her sister, who might have been asleep but for the reek of hostility wafting from her fur. Star cleared her throat. “Hey, Angel?” she asked hesitantly.

Angel's head whipped in her direction and her eyes narrowed like a cat's. Star cringed like a kitten facing a Doberman. “What do you want?” Angel demanded.

Star gulped. “I... I wanted to know what's going on with you.”

Angel turned her back. “Mind your own beeswax,” she spat.

Star was almost relieved that Angel was no longer holding her in the fearsome gaze, and for a moment she considered heeding her sister's command. But instead she continued, “Everyone's wondering why you and Mommy and Daddy aren't getting along well.”

“They're too bossy,” came the snippy reply. “Does that answer your question?”

Star gulped. “Maybe you should just listen to them. They like it when I do that.”

“No duh,” snapped Angel, whirling around to face her and looking as if she might attack. “They like it because they like you. As far as they're concerned, you never do anything wrong. It's me they're always getting mad at.”

Star leaned her ears forward. “I don't think so. I mean they let you play with other puppies, but they want me to stay with them. I wish I had other friends like you do.”

Angel bared her teeth. “You know what I wish?” she demanded. “I wish that you would just stop talking to me and leave me alone!”

Star's chin began to quiver. Here eyes teared up, and then she turned tail and ran into the next room. Why did Angel have to be so mean?! “Mommy!” she called.

Luna's head jerked up at the sight of her daughter's tears. “What happened?” she asked.

“I was trying to talk to Angel and she just yelled at me!”

Luna rose to her feet. “What am I going to do with that girl?” she muttered under her breath. “Wait here.”

Luna went into the next room, where Star heard some loud scolding from her mother with intervals in between, not unlike you might have heard if someone is talking on the phone. She tried not to cry. She wasn't a baby, after all. Besides, she had never seen Luna cry except that one time when she almost fell off a cliff. And she certainly wasn't crying now. After a moment she seemed to calm down, and a few seconds later, she came in followed by Angel.

Star worked extra hard to will back the tears as they came up and sat in front of her, Angel's face every bit as sullen and unpleasant as before, and Luna's looking as if she just wanted the whole thing to be over. Luna turned an expectant gaze on Angel, who lowered her ears and hung her head as if she had been caught wetting the rug.

“I'm... I'm sorry,” the offending puppy said.

Luna nodded her approval and turned her gaze to Star. “Star?” she asked. “Do you have something to say?”

Star didn't feel at all better for the apology, but she knew what Luna was expecting out of her, so she said, “I forgive you.”

Luna rewarded this with a smile and a nod. “That's better. Now, I don't want to see or hear any more fighting, okay?”

Star nodded in agreement. “I won't fight,” she said.

“Yeah, me neither,” said Angel without much conviction. “I was just trying to get some space is all.”

“I see,” said Luna. She looked at Star and gestured with her head, indicating that they should go into another room. “Well, Star, why don't we let her have her space? Hopefully she'll be in a better mood later, and then she can join us.”

Star obediently followed Luna out of the room, thinking how strange it was that Angel got to have more friends even though she was so unfriendly. “Mommy,” she asked, “How come only Angel gets to play with other dogs?”

Luna pursed her lips in a show of inward thought. “Well, I wouldn't say she's the only one who gets to,” she countered, “But I do see why you might think so. What it really is is just that Angel found her friends, and you haven't yet.” Looking at her daughter with renewed attention, she asked, “Are there some dogs you want to play with?”

Star's ears drooped. “I don't know any,” she admitted weakly.

Luna smiled. “I'll tell you what,” she offered, bending down to talk to Star eye-to-eye. “Next time Angel goes with her friends, I'll leave the boys with Toby and we'll go find you a friend of your own. Deal?”

Star smiled and jumped up and down. “Yeah, that'd be great!”

Luna laughed, her smile spreading from ear to ear. “Well okay.”

As Star had hoped, the very next day Arrow walked in early in the afternoon to tell Angel that one of her friends was outside looking for her. Star overheard this and instantly ran to Luna. “Mommy, Mommy!” she barked. “Star's going with her friends now!”

Luna, who had been napping in a patch of sunshine coming through the window, yawned and stretched out her forepaws as dogs do, then rose to her paws. “Alright,” she said, “Let's get started.”

Both of them started out the search with enthusiasm. Star was bouncing all over the place, anxious to find someone to be her friend. Luna traveled at a somewhat more measured tempo, reasoning that it would be best if Star made friends as much on her own as possible. Unfortunately, there was one problem with that idea. Although they did run into a lot of dogs, many of whom evidently thought Star was a sweet little pup, it seemed that all of them were too old for her invitation of friendship. Luna tried suggesting that perhaps an older friend would be a good choice, especially an older girl who could serve as a sort of big sister figure, but Star was insistent that she wanted friends, or at least one friend, her own age, and preferably a boy. After all, that was what Luna had growing up. However, it seemed for some time that fate was not in their favor.

“Phooey,” snapped Star after almost an hour of walking through the streets. “We've been all over town and no sign of any pups my age to make friends with.”

Luna tsked and was about to agree when, looking up, she chanced to catch a glimpse of a small scrappy-looking puppy, his coat a regular paint spill of mixed colors, crossing the street just ahead of them. “I see one,” she said brightly.

“Where? Where?” asked Star, excited. Catching sight of the other pup, she ran toward him and froze, looking back at Luna. “How do I make friends with him?” she asked.

Luna shook her head and gestured with a paw. “Just go talk to him. Be yourself.”

But nobody likes me, she thought. Let's see...

“How did you make friends with Dad?” she asked.

“We just sort of bumped into each other,” she replied. “Now go...”

“Okay!” Star ran over to the other pup, aiming for a collision course. But instead of colliding as she had hoped, he responded by pulling up short and missing her by a foot.

“What the heck are you doing?” he asked.

Luna laid a paw over her eyes as she watched, shaking her head. 'That was worse than Grandpa's stories about Boris' flying practice,' she thought. She wanted to call out to Star that she hadn't meant it that way, but chose to hold her tongue. After-the-fact coaching wouldn't save a crash-and-burn, but immediate advice would make Star look strange – stranger, rather – and likely do more harm than good.

Star turned around, but to Luna's relief she didn't go for a crash this time.”Wanna be friends?” she asked.

“Huh?” he asked in confusion, ears leaning back. One paw was still poised in midair as it had been when he stopped to avoid the impact.

“My name's Star, and I'm trying to make a friend,” she repeated.

“Oh. Well, uh, sure, we can be friends,” he agreed. Then tentatively he added, “I guess.”

“Great!” she cheered. Then she paused, her ears cocked slightly and her lips pursed. “What's your name?”

“My name's Eska.”

“Okay. Hey Mom, I made a new friend! His name's Eska!” she called to Luna, even though by now she was only about three feet away.

“So I heard,” Luna chuckled. “I'm Luna, Star's mom.”

Eska looked back and forth between them. “You don't look like her,” he said.

Star's ears drooped, but Luna just smiled. “Well, she takes after her father.”

“Really?” Eska asked. “Well, that makes sense.”

Star still seemed bothered by her new friend's observation, so Luna ventured, “Are there any games you like to play, Eska?”

“Well, tag's always fun,” the pup replied.

“Really?” asked Star. “That's my favorite too! Not it! You're it!” and she took off, Eska chasing after her and yelling that he wasn't ready.

Luna looked after them. “I thought Hide-and-sniff was her favorite,” she murmured. But, why split hairs? Star had made a friend, and aside from that one moment of disappointment, she seemed happy enough. So, tossing the question aside, Luna followed to keep an eye on the rambunctious youngsters.

There is an odd state sometimes encountered, particularly by the very young, when something that drains or ought to drain one to the point of exhaustion instead leaves one feeling more energetic than they felt at the start. Some call it being “tired hyper.” Whatever you calls it, it was Star's condition when she got home. Where her mother was all but dead on her paws just from following the playmates, the pup was bubbling with energy.

“I can't wait to go out again!” she enthused.

Luna forced a smile through her yawn. “Yeah, it was fun.” The truth was, she was only speaking half her mind. As glad as she was that Star had had such a good time, she needed some rest. 'I'm too young to feel this tired,' she thought, not without humor.

“Well,” said a voice nearby, “Sounds like someone had a good day.”

It was Arrow, her black-rimmed eyes relaxed and her lips drawn back in a smile.

“You can say that again!” agreed Star. “I made a new friend today!”

This pleased Arrow, and her tail began to wag just a little – though not as much as Star's. 'She'd better be careful with that thing,' she thought humorously. 'She could flatten a house with one whack.' “Sounds great,” she said. Then she looked up at Luna and a smirk found its way into her features. “Did you play Caribou Hunt? Mom looks like you chased her to Juneau and back.”

Luna smiled and assumed an exaggerated droopy posture as if she were barely staying on her paws. “Oh, nonsense,” she replied, “I feel great.”

Arrow was quick to pick up on the cue. “So, tell me what happened, Star. Who's this new friend you met?”

“His name's Eska. Mom helped me find him, and we spent all day playing. He's lots of fun.”

“What kind of games?”

By now, Luna was listening with only what energy she could spare. She had been there through all of it, Star was in good paws, and she was officially ready for a good, long nap. In short order she was asleep, soothed by the sound of her daughters talking and laughing.

Star continued talking, basking in the delight of Arrow's attention and input on the whole matter. She did not yet realize it, but for one her age she was quite the storyteller, making up several times over for any lack of skill with her sheer enthusiasm. Angel helped the former with periodic inquiries until a “Hey sis” interrupted them as Star was taking a breath.

Star looked around. “Angel!” she barked, not loudly but with plenty of energy from her excitement. “I was just telling Arrow about the friend I met today. His name is Eska.”

Angel rolled he eyes. “Whoop-ee,” she uttered.

Arrow made a face. To any decent dog, Angel's attitude would have seemed inconsiderate at best. But Arrow recognized the tone all too well; among other things, it sounded a lot like she herself had before Luna rescued her from the stray life.

“Angel,” she offered, trying to mimic the trademark “warning tone,” Luna often used in the face of inappropriate behavior, “Why don't you have a seat and listen?”

Angel obeyed reluctantly, but although Star was too gleeful to notice or care about this, Arrow could tell Angel was unwilling to pay any attention. Especially when she threw out an excuse at the first opportunity.

“Look,” she said, “It sounds fun, but this is hard to pick up in the middle.”

Star looked slightly disconcerted at this.. “Do you want me to start over?” she asked.

Angel shook her head. “Nah, forget it. You keep going; I'll hear it some other time.”

Arrow narrowed her eyes. 'Oh, no,' she thought. 'She's not disappearing this easy.' “It's fine, Angel. Go ahead and start over, Star. I don't mind.”

Luna groaned and opened one eye. “Kids, no fighting,” she scolded in a half-awake voice, and went back to sleep.

Arrow looked back to the two of them, but Angel was already strolling away with her tail held arrogantly high and a look on her face so smug you could even see it from dead behind her. At first the former stray was tempted to go and bring her younger kin back by force if need be, but she knew such measures would serve only to make matters worse and spoil Star's good spirits. So she had no choice but to stay put and pretend everything was hunky-dory. She made a vow to herself, however, that this would not be the end of the matter.

Star tried to resume telling her story, but for some reason Arrow wasn't responding the same way she had before. Wasn't smiling quite as much, raising her ears so high at interesting parts, or wagging her tail the way she had at first.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, puzzled.

Arrow blinked. “What?” she asked.

Star tilted her head. “You don't seem happy like before.”

Arrow shrugged, trying to make light of it. “Nah, it's nothing.” But her slanted ears and lowered eyes exposed the lie.

Star would never have considered herself a mind reader, but it didn't take much insight to figure out what was going on. “Are you sad about Angel?” she asked.

Arrow nodded, and Star sympathized. “Yeah, I feel that way too. But I guess it's not such a big deal. She just didn't feel like hearing the story.”

Arrow shook her head. “Nah, there's more to it than that,” she admitted. Her ears slid back further. “It's like... I dunno. You ever get that weird feeling, like something bad's gonna happen, or like you're re-living an experience over again?”

Star scrunched her face for a moment, thinking. “Well,” she admitted, “I felt like I was going to cry when Angel wouldn't stop asking me about that makeup stuff.”

Arrow shook her head again. “No, not like that. It's more like... like something really bad is going to happen, like someone getting hurt or something, and you can't really do anything about it.”

Star was starting to get the idea. “Like the way Mommy says she felt the time Daddy went and joined a sled team?”

Arrow nodded. “Yeah, just like that. Well when Angel was here before, I got that kind of feeling. And I noticed she was being rude, like she really didn't want to be around us.”

Star frowned. “I see what you mean,” she agreed. “She has been pretty grumpy lately.”

Arrow nodded. “That's what worries me. She used to be so much fun to be around, but now she's acting like I did before Mom and Dad adopted me.”

At this, Star grew anxious. “You think she's a spy?”

Arrow almost laughed and started to say no, then stopped. Was Angel up to something, she wondered? 'She was hanging out with my brother,' she thought. Despite her optimistic outlook earlier that day, she had her doubts about Angel being around Sam with his sordid history. Then again, he did seem different. And she ought to know better than anyone how wrong it was to not give someone a second chance. Her heart wanted to believe he had changed, her gut said he was up to something, and her head wouldn't make up its mind.

She was pulled from her reflections by a paw on her nose. “Are you alright?” asked Star. “You looked like Connie's dad that time he went sleepwalking.”

Arrow shook her head. “Nah, I wasn't asleep, just thinking.”

“Oh. So do you think Angel's a spy like you were?”

Arrow again frowned. Suspicions or no suspicions, one thing her heart, mind, and gut all agreed on was that it couldn't be right to encourage Star's suspicions without a fair cause. “I doubt it,” she replied. “But I'm still worried. It's as if she doesn't like being around us now.”

Star nodded. “Maybe something's bothering her and we should find out what's wrong,” she offered.

Arrow shook her head. “Better not just now,” she replied. “Maybe later.”

Outwardly Star agreed. But although she was not given to be rebellious, neither did she want to see both of her sisters, and her parents as well, upset over some strange thing. It seemed plain to her that one way or the other, something was wrong with Angel. So after excusing herself for a drink of water, and after she had taken said drink, she checked to make sure Arrow's attention was no longer on her and slipped into the kitchen. Sure enough, there was Angel, laying on the floor by the stove, wrapped in solitary gloom.

Star walked to within about three feet of her. “Hey,” she greeted quietly.

Angel did not look her way. “What do you want?” she asked anemically.

Star smiled, hoping some of her cheer would rub off on her sister. “You seem bothered, and I just want to cheer you up.”

“Knock yourself out,” Angel grumbled, not sounding the least bit appreciative of the offered goodwill.

Glad to at least have the invitation, Star sat down and began to tell of the day's ventures. “Well, right after you left this morning, Mom took me out to find some friends. She promised we could go look 'cause you're always playing with yours. We must have looked all over town, but finally we met this one puppy named Eska. And when I met him...” Star thumped a paw on the floor in the same manner as a human might snap her fingers. “Boom. We were friends just like that. We spent the whole day playing. First we played Tag. I must have caught him a dozen times. Then we played hide-and-sniff, and Mom even took us to the old lot and let me play caves with him! It was so much fun!”

Angel rolled her eyes so hard they hurt. “Yeah, if you like pups' stuff.”

Star tilted her head, puzzled. “But we are pups.”

“Maybe some of us,” Angel all but sniped. “My friends and I never bother with that kind of junk.”

Star's eyes grew wide with curiosity. “So what do you do?”

Angel's ears dropped, and her expression fell. “Do?” she echoed dumbly, as if she had never heard the word before.

“Yeah, what kind of stuff do you do with your friends?” asked Star.

Angel forced an indifferent shrug. “We just sort of hang out,” she replied.

Star paid her no heed. “We're best friends, just like Mommy and Daddy were,” she went on, not having heard. “And someday we'll be more than friends. We'll go out like Mommy and Daddy did, and then...”

“Oh, brother,” snapped Angel.

This surprised Star. “I'm not your brother,” she pointed out. “I'm your sister.”

“Not what I meant.” Angel said angrily. “You always have to do everything like Mommy.” She emphasized the last word with distaste as if it were a curse. “Think outside the box already. You're not Mom. For one thing, you're too stinkin' ugly.”

This struck Star at her weakest point, and the reaction was immediate. “I am not!” she shot back.

“Are too.”

“Am not!”

“Ugly, ugly, ugly,” Angel sang, as if pounding in a nail. “Mom's pretty, and I'm pretty, but you're just an ugly mutt.”

“I am not!” Star cried, and as usual, she ran out of the room to Luna. “Angel called me an ugly mutt!” she bawled.

Luna was immediately on her feet and headed for the room where the troublemaker sat. Or rather, where she had been sitting. Angel was long gone.

Even after Luna went and found Toby, it took the two of them an hour to find Angel. When they came back, they told everyone to stay downstairs except in an emergency, and gave Arrow instruction to ensure that no one went outside unless the house caught fire. Then they took Angel, hanging from Toby's jaws like a dripping wet sock hung to dry over a fire, into some room or other upstairs. Star tried not to heed the arguing that followed, but even though she could only hear snatches of it carrying through the house, she moped. So much for that idea, she thought regretfully. She had tried to get her parents at ease about Angel, and instead they were more focused on her than ever. I'll never be like Mom, she thought. Nothing I try ever works.

Later that night, as she lay in the living room bereft of Luna's warmth, with nothing to do except listen to the wind outside and the quiet breathing of her brothers, she suddenly heard a sound at the door. Was that a voice out there? Yes, there it came again. Someone was outside, calling. And the closer she listened, the more familiar it sounded. Like someone was calling her name. And the someone...

“Eska?” asked Star. “What are you doing here?”

“I need you to come outside for a minute,” replied his voice.

She scrunched her face and reclined her ears. “Now?” she asked, glancing at the window. “It's freezing outside. Don't you want to come in?”

“No, I can't. You come out here.”

Star was about to concede, but then she remembered. “Mommy and Daddy said to stay inside unless the house was on fire.”

“They don't need to know, and we've gotta talk.”

Star frowned. Something didn't sound right about all this. But it was Eska asking. “Okay,” she said, “But just for a minute, promise?”

“I promise,” came the reply.

She scampered to the pet flap and stuck her nose out. Youch! The minute she cracked it open, the biting wind hit her nose like the tip of an icicle. She jerked back, rubbing her snout. “Can't this wait until morning?” she asked.

“No, it's gotta be now. Come outside, or I won't be your friend anymore.”

Well, she couldn't say no to that. “Okay,” she agreed. And with gritted teeth, she slipped out the pet flap.

The snow was so deep even on the porch that she immediately sank up to her chin in the icy powder. The wind blew in her eyes, forcing them shut. “Eska!” she shouted. “Where are you?!”

“Not here,” came a much different voice. And before she could turn and see who it was – if seeing were even possible in the squall – she felt herself being snatched up like a mouse in the clutches of an owl. She could do nothing but scream as her faceless captor took off, carrying her away into the night. So she screamed, long and loud.

Which, as it turned out, was exactly what the enemy wanted.

“Where are you taking me?” asked Star.

“Eh, not far,” the dog replied. “Just far enough to keep you outta the way for awhile.”

“Why are you doing this?” she all but cried. “What did I ever do to you?”

“Nothing,” he replied in a “so-what” tone of voice as if her innocence were a pointless triviality. “But I got some stuff I need to do, and you'd just get in the way. Now hush up already.”

“I wanna go home,” she sobbed. “I'm cold, and you're scaring me.”

“Too bad,” he replied. He stopped and looked around, causing Star to swing to and fro like a wrecking ball. “This oughta do,” he murmured. And so saying, he ran to a garbage can, raised himself on his hind legs, and tipped the lid off with his nose, banging Star against the cold metal in the process.

“Ow!” she cried. “Let me go, I wanna...”

“You got it,” he replied cheerfully as he flipped her up and dropped her into the can.

Star landed on a pile of frozen trash. At once she jumped up and braced her paws against the sides, barking frantically to be let out, but the lid closed overhead mercilessly. “Keep talking, sister,” taunted the dog outside. “Might as well use the hot air while you've got it.”

Star kept barking, desperately hoping someone might hear her. “Mommy! Daddy! Eska! Somebody, help me!” She carried on barking for who-knows-how-long, until finally despair began to take hold and her spirits started to crumble. Why isn't anyone coming? she wondered as she let out a final few plaintive yips. Great-Grandpa Balto came running when Mommy was in a garbage can. So did Daddy. She curled up in a ball, shivering against the cold and fighting back tears. But nobody's going to come for me. Nobody cares about me because I am a nobody. The tears won out, and the metal sides of the can reverberated with the sound of her muffled sobbing. But even that quieted eventually, as she lost even the strength to mourn and the cold began to seep its way into her limbs. First a painful biting sensation, then a sense of numbness. Her left paws, the ones exposed (for she had curled her tail around her right side) didn't even seem to be there anymore. She knew what this was, and if she'd had the strength she would have trembled at the thought of it. She was dying. Alone, unloved, and doomed.

She was pulled out of her sorrow by a grating sound from overhead and a rush of cold air. Numbly, she pulled her head from the protection of her tail in time to see...

“Star!”

“Da... Daddy?” she asked sluggishly. Even the words felt frozen.

“Oh, thank God you're alive!” he cried, scooping her up in his mouth.

“Nnn...” she groaned.

“Come on, honey, stay with me. I'm going to get you home,” he urged her as he ran faster than he had ever run before.

That was the last thing Star remembered.

It was touch-and-go for almost twenty-four hours as Star drifted in and out of consciousness. During her brief lucid moments, she was aware of much smothering from her mother, and of Toby saying to just hang on, everything would be okay. Angel was there too, but she seemed upset by something and always started speaking just as Star was again drifting into her stupor.

During this time, Luna scarcely left her daughter's side, and Toby all but moved back into Luna's house again, only going home to eat and occasionally to sleep. Angel was inconsolable over what she had done, even though both her parents kept telling her everything would be fine. She wanted so desperately to tell her sister that she was sorry, that she was the cause of the whole mess, but she never managed to get the words out until Star faded again, and each time she worried that her sister had died.

At last, on the third or fourth time Star woke up, when she had managed to drink some water, eat a bite or two of food, and tell her story, Angel worked up the courage to clear her throat.

Toby took the hint. “Star,” he said softly, “I think Angel has something to say to you.”

Star looked inquisitively at Angel, who had to clear her throat again before she could speak. “I'm sorry you got kidnapped,” she said. She tried to speak calmly, but as soon as the long-delayed emotion began to leak out, it surged full force and she began to cry. “It's my fault,” she said. “One of the dogs in my gang kidnapped you so I could sneak out while Mommy and Daddy were looking for you. I never should have been friends with them in the first place, and now you're sick because of...”

Arrow cut her off, holding a fraction more composure as she spoke out of experience at admitting her sins. “I'm sorry too,” she admitted. “The dog who nabbed you was my brother, Sammy.”

“How do you know that?” asked Star, quizzically.

“I didn't,” she admitted. “Not for sure anyway, although I did see him lurking outside right before you disappeared. But when you said you were tricked by someone who sounded like Eska, I knew it had to be him. Sam's always been good at mimicking voices. I shouldn't have trusted him hanging around here, but I thought maybe he was different now.”

Star was overwhelmed by this. She had only just come back from the brink of death, and now she was finding out her own sisters had been a part of why she got into it in the first place. “How could you do that?” she asked. “You let them kidnap me just so...?”

“Star, Star, hold up a second,” Luna interrupted. “Yes, they did have a part in it. But they're sorry, and Angel helped save your life.”

“So?” asked Star, not sure why this should stop her from being upset.

Luna sighed. “Remember what I told you about when Toby hurt me as a puppy?”

Star thought about it. She wanted to forgive them, but something in her just couldn't do it. “I can't,” she replied. “You hurt me, both of you.”

“Yeah, but we're sorry,” Arrow protested.

“Sorry?” echoed Star incredulously. “Sorry? I could have been killed because of you two!”

“Yeah, but sis...” Angel started to say.

Luna decided it was time to break up the fight in progress. “Angel, Arrow,” she instructed, “Go somewhere else.”

“But Mom,” pleaded Arrow.

“Do as your mother says,” Toby answered softly. “We'll handle this one for now.”

The two girl pups looked at each other and left. The parents turned to Star. “Sweetheart,” Toby began. “Believe it or not, Luna was in a situation a lot like yours as a puppy.

“I know,” she cried, “And I want to forgive them, but I can't. I can't do anything like Mommy does.”

“Star...” Luna tried to reason with her, but Star's anguish rolled right over her like an avalanche over a small bush.

“All I ever wanted was to be like you,” she went on, looking up at Luna, “But I can't. I can't do anything right. I never...!”

“Star, listen,” Toby gently insisted. He waited until she closed her mouth, then stopped as a loud gurgle issued from her stomach.

Star put a paw to her middle. “Can I eat while we talk?” she asked.

Shaking his head at how quickly things jumped around in their family, Toby went and brought a dish of food from the corner where the dogs ate in the Calvins' household. “Here.”

As Star began to fill her empty insides, Luna took up where Toby had left off. “A lot has happened while you were in and out of consciousness. Angel's not the way she was before. Ever since you got hurt she's been worried sick about you. She's hardly slept or eaten anything because she thought you might pass away and she'd never have the chance to tell you she was sorry.”

Star looked away sulkily. “Well she should be,” she grumbled, feeling vindictive. “She let me get kidnapped and thrown in a trash can. So did Arrow.”

“Yeah, but they didn't know.” Toby lay down on his stomach, chin resting on his crossed paws to look his daughter in the eye. “Look, they made a few mistakes, it's true. But they said they were sorry, and I'd say their attitudes have backed it up.”

Star looked him in the eyes, still tear-faced. “But I don't want to forgive them,” she insisted.

“We know that,” her father conceded. “But you'll only hurt yourself by not forgiving them. They still have each other, but if you don't forgive them I'll be like you don't have sisters anymore. And take it from both of us, no matter how much you don't like them, that can get very lonely.”

Star didn't know what to do. She wanted to make her parents happy, but to forgive her sisters, Angel especially... somehow she knew that would mean forgiving everyhting. The taunts, the insults, even simply having what she wanted most. She wasn't sure if she could forgive that, or if she wanted to.

Toby looked up at Luna, who drew in a deep, shoulder-raising breath and let it out quietly. “Listen, Star,” she said, bringing her head down nose-to-nose with her daughter. “It won't be long before you and the others go to your new homes.”

“What?” Star thought that if this was supposed to make her feel better, it wasn't working. “But I don't... I don't want to go.” She began to cry.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Luna whispered, “You know there's nothing I'd love more than for you and the others to stay. If I had my way, we'd all live together like a pack. But I had to find my own home when I was your age, and it's time for you now. And you can still see me as often as you want. But I won't let them take you until you're well, I promise.”

“So do I,” Toby joined in with a nod.

Star felt like she was being ripped in half now. Stay sick forever or leave her mom? What kind of choice was that? Still, if Luna had done it at her age, she should do it too. “Okay,” she said softly.

Both of them nuzzled her. “Good girl,” Luna said approvingly.

“Very good girl,” Toby echoed. “But do one thing for us, please.”

“Anything,” Star promised.

“Just try to get along with Angel and Arrow. They've promised to be nice to you now, and we don't want you going to your new home bitter. Okay?”

Star sniffled and wiped a paw across her muzzle. “I don't know if I can,” she replied.

“Just try,” Toby whispered. “That's all we ask.”

Star looked from one hopeful face to the other. In the end, how could she say no? “Okay.”

Star tried to keep her promise, or thought she was trying, which isn't always the same thing. Oh, it was good when her sisters said nice things to her. Things like, “I hope you get well soon,” and “I saw Sammy today, and told him to go stick his head in the trash.” It was even nicer, if a bit annoying sometimes, when they went out of their way to do things for her. When she was thirsty, Angel practically made her stay put while she dragged the water bowl over to the basket. And once when she shivered, Arrow head-butted the whole basket over to the fireplace. It got annoying being treated like a cripple, but it did make one thing a lot easier: faking. As long as she stayed sick, she reasoned, she wouldn't have to leave her parents. So whenever the humans came to inspect her, she squinted her eyes and pretended to sneeze. When Luna came in the door, she manufactured a shiver. And as long as her sisters wanted to pander to her every whim, she was going to milk it dry.

At first it was easy. For at least a week she really was sick. But as the fever wore down, she took to faking more and more. Consequently, everyone became increasingly worried.

“Are you sure you're alright, dear?” asked Luna one evening as Star shivered in her basket.

Star let out an exaggerated groan. “Not really,” she admitted. “I still feel really cold.”

Luna touched her nose to the pup's and held it there for a moment until a faked sneeze drove her back. “Well,” she remarked, wiping a paw across her muzzle, “Your nose feels fine... mostly.”

Star shivered again and burrowed under the covers. The truth was, between the blankets and her proximity to the fire, she was roasting. “I still feel sick,” she whined.

Luna frowned. Star was getting older, and at this rate she'd be too old for anyone to want her by the time she was well. Not only that, but since the Calvins had noticed how much care the other pups took for their sister, they had held off on giving them away. “Well sit tight and get some rest,” she advised. “I just hope you don't have to go to the vet's again.”

Star shuddered at that idea. This time she wasn't faking. Maybe somewhere there were dogs that liked going to the vet's, but one thing was sure: she didn't.

“Will you tell me a story?” she asked weakly.

Luna shook her head. “Maybe later,” she replied. “Right now I have to go take care of something.”

“What's that?” Star's curiosity was getting the better of her, and she began to worm her way free of the stifling covers.

Luna shook her head. “I'll tell you later,” she replied. “There's something I'm starting to wonder about...”

She gazed at her daughter a moment longer, just enough that Star began to feel paranoid. 'Does she know?' she wondered. Heaven forbid if she did. Finally, to Star's relief, the eyes left her.

“I'll see you soon,” Luna promised. “The boys will be around if you need anything.”

“Not Arrow or Angel?” asked Star weakly.

Luna shook her head. “They're spending some time with your father,” she replied. Casting one more worried look back at the quivering pup, she all but pleaded, “Get well soon.” And with that she left through the pet flap.

Star crawled out from under the covers and let out a big sigh of relief. How glad she was to be able to breathe! She sat, relishing the coolness but keeping her ears pricked in case anyone approached; a trick she had picked up from hearing accounts of Angel's misdeeds. Her sister didn't like to talk about how badly she had blown it, but for the ailing member of the family, anything was up for the asking.

Meanwhile, Luna was on her way over to Toby's, where she suspected the three would be playing one of their games. She wished it could be four, Star included, but that wouldn't happen until she recovered.

Which, as it turned out, was exactly what Luna was pinning her hopes on.

She arrived at Toby's to find he wasn't there, nor were the girls. Fresh tracks heading due east from the back door told her that her mate must have taken them on patrol with him. Not exactly a typical father/daughter activity, but is seemed to suit them.

Cutting through back yards and an alley or two, she headed on an intercept route with his usual beat. Although she wasn't quite as good a tracker as he, she knew his patterns well enough to make a near-perfect beeline for his halfway point. From there she could either backtrack to meet him partway, or follow the route to catch up with him. There was something they needed to discuss.

Luck was with her; she came out of an alley across town just as he and the girls were turning onto the street. A quick bark grabbed their attention and brought them running the rest of the way to her. “Mom!” barked Arrow, wagging her tail.

Toby was breathing hard as he brought up the rear. “Kids, you're going too hard on your old man. I'm not as young as I used to be,” he complained.

Angel shook her head. “Come on, Dad, we know you're faking it.”

Toby winced and raised a paw to his chest in dramatic fashion. “Me, fake? That hurts. And besides, I have no idea what you're talking about.” He held his wounded look through an upraised eyebrow from the younger daughter before turning to Luna. “What's up, hon?” he asked.

“It's Star,” she explained seriously. “I think I know why she's taking so long to get well...”

Star quickly dove under the blankets as the four came trooping back in. “Boy, that was fun!” Angel enthused.

“Yeah,” agreed Arrow. “Can we go again tomorrow?”

Toby rolled his shoulders and grinned. “Oh, I don't know. It's not really my turn to make the rounds tomorrow night, and I can't just go taking it away from one of the other dogs. I mean, I'm not even really on the police force, officially. I'm really just sort of a civilian's auxiliary.”

“Ogs-what-ary?” asked Angel.

“Auxiliary,” Luna explained. “It means he's not an official member, he just sort of helps out.”

“So help them out some more,” urged Arrow. “Please?”

“I have to admit, it was pretty fun,” Luna put in. “And I was only with you three for the last half or so.”

Toby heaved a mock-reluctant sigh. “Well, okay,” he agreed. “I'll ask Captain Orde; he's getting kind of old to be out on these cold nights anyway.”

“Yeah!” the girls cheered.

“But,” added Toby emphatically, before lowering his head to their level. In a conspiratorial stage-whisper, he finished, “Don't tell anyone I said he's old.”

A chorus of giggles sounded, matched by his own chuckle. Luna glanced in Star's direction and saw that the pup's chin was drooping.

'It's for a good cause,' she told herself. 'The more she wants to get better, the sooner she will.'

It didn't help. For the first time in her life, success made her feel like she needed a bath.

It's been said that being a parent is wanting to hug your kid and strangle them at the same time. While Toby and Luna had no anger towards their daughter, they found themselves faced with much the same conflicting desire. On the one hand, it hurt them deeply to allow, much less encourage, their other progeny to parade wellness in front of the sickly. But at the same time, there seemed no way around it. Star had everything she needed; all she lacked was the motivation.

Star, for her part, was certainly feeling the effects of their unorthodox prescription. At least once a day, be it in morning, afternoon, or evening, she would watch one or both of her parents come through with a gang of her siblings frolicking about in their wake like dolphins after a ship, chattering about the fun they had out on patrol or in the lot or no place in particular. And every time she longed to be out there with them.

The humans, meanwhile, asked the veterinarian to come over and have a look at their ailing pup. But he could find nothing wrong with her apart from her obvious lack of energy, and the stimulants he had to offer tasted awful and only increased her longing to get up and romp around with her family. Other dogs would have dropped the charade and surrendered to fate, but Star was determined to keep it up. It was the one thing she could do like her mother and sister: persevere.

It was after this veterinary visit that Luna began to have her doubts. What if, she wondered, Star was only convincing herself that she was sick for some reason? It was hardly unheard of, and it would explain everything perfectly: the moping, the lack of symptoms, and the futility of their efforts. She confided her doubts to her husband, and the two of them instantly fell upon the same plan. Perhaps if Star were pushed into a situation of independence, she would realize she was not as sick as she felt. So, the following morning, when Toby came to the house and the pups began their usual clamor of who would go with him now and who would stay to look after Star, Luna suggested they all go.

“What?” asked Star, visibly upset. “But Mommy...!”

Luna shook her head. “I'm sorry, dear, but we can't help it if you're sick. And since your symptoms are on the decline, we'll only have a little more time to spend together.”

“But what if she needs something?” asked Angel.

“Mrs. Calvin only stepped out for a few minutes,” Toby replied. “She'll be back soon.”

Nobody seemed happy about leaving Star by herself, but the parents were firm. As soon as they left, however, Luna seemed to have a change of heart. “Actually,” she said as soon as they were out of sight of the house, “I think maybe I should go back and keep an eye on her.”

She doubled back silently and slipped in the back door. Making her way through the rooms, she came up behind the front room where the puppies stayed.

Star couldn't believe it.. They had walked out on her! Abandoned her! Left her behind without so much as a second thought! What kind of family was this, anyway? She watched them leave from the front window, keeping a low profile in case they should look back, and then walked to the water dish for a long drink. Hiding in those blankets was hot, and her family's new treatment of her only raised her temperature all the more with her temper. “How can they do that?” she asked out loud. “They act like I don't matter, like I have no feelings!” She swatted the bowl with a vicious swipe of her paw, splashing water up around the sides. Suddenly her eyes grew wide and she frantically began to lap the water off the floor, erasing the evidence of her crime.

Unfortunately for her, witnesses are somewhat harder to erase. She was suddenly aware of Luna standing over her, looking very stern. At once she began to fake it, lest she be caught in good health.

“Oh, hi...” Cough, cough. “...Mom.” Cough. “I didn't... a-choo! ...didn't hear you come in.” And so saying, she burrowed under the covers and did her best to look miserable. “I think I'm feeling better.”

“Yes,” Luna replied, “Much better. So much better, in fact, that I've been watching you up and about, and you haven't shivered or sneezed once.”

Star cringed. “Mommy, I...”

“Lied,” her mother finished for her. Her voice was as serious as only a mother's can be when she has been deeply hurt by one of her children. “I don't know how long, but apparently you've been making us think you were ill when you were in perfect health. Why?”

Star looked down at the blankets beneath her. “I'm sorry,” was all she said.

“Why did you do it?” Luna asked, insistent now.

“Because... because I don't want to leave,” she confessed. “I want to stay here with you. And I wanted to make Angel and Arrow prove they were sorry.”

Luna was nearly at a loss for words. “So you've been faking this whole time, pretending to be sick, having me and your father and the rest of us bend over backwards for you? And all the while, you've been eating away at not just your chances of finding a good home, but your siblings' too!” She couldn't help herself; her voice was rising by the minute in her shock that the pup she had thought so well of was capable of such deception. “And to top it off you have been worrying all of us – me, your father, your brothers and sisters, even the Calvins – sick just so you could... could...” she faltered, hindered in part by her daughter's tears, but more so by the question of how she could be mad at her for wanting to stay with her. There was no excusing the fact that Star had made a lying, vindictive con-artist out of herself, no denying that she had sabotaged not only her repentant sister but her innocent brothers as well. But to yell at her like this was simply unconscionable.

Star, meanwhile, had broken down completely. “I'm sorry,” she sobbed between loud sniffles. “I didn't mean to make trouble, I just... just...” the rest wouldn't come.

Luna sighed. Later she would wonder if it had been entirely smart to trust words from someone who had already fooled the whole family for weeks. But she couldn't stay mad anymore. “I'm sorry too, dear,” she said, nuzzling the top of her daughter's head. “I didn't mean to get so angry. You did the wrong thing, a lot of wrong things, in fact, but so did I.”

Star looked up. “Am I going to be punished?” she asked.

Luna shook her head. “I'll have to talk that over with your dad,” she admitted. “But you will have to tell everyone what you did and apologize to them, just like Arrow and Angel did to you. It's not fair if they do it and you don't. Do you understand?”

Star nodded, drawing in a loud sniff. “Think they'll be mad at me?”

Luna shook her head and sat. “I don't know. They might be. But you can't change what you did. All you can do now is do the right thing. The rest is their responsibility. Okay?”

The pup took a deep breath. “Yeah,” she squeaked.

“Good.” Luna rose to her feet. “Do you want me to go out and get them right now?”

Star nodded. “I guess so.”

Luna started for the door, then turned back and rubbed the top of Star's head with her muzzle. “It's okay,” she whispered. “Whatever happens, I forgive you. Alright?”

She nodded. “Okay,” she whispered, returning the nuzzle.

Star's confession was difficult, to say the least. Admitting it to her mother, who had caught her red-pawed already, was one thing. But to her entire family, all together, when they didn't yet even suspect anything, was so daunting that it took her three tries just to start. By the time she was through, expressions ranged from shocked to infuriated.

“You mean you've been making us baby-sit you this whole time and you were just fine?” demanded Balthasar.

“Only a week,” she pleaded, in hopes of covering her guilt.

“Like that makes it better!” snapped Caspar, his eyes trained and ears laying low like a canine sniper's. “You've been playing us for chumps and...!”

“Hey hey hey,” Angel cut him off, “It's not like she did anything worse than me.”

“Yeah,” Melchior retorted, “But she did it to us, right?”

“Right,” agreed Zar. “I was looking forward to getting a human and now...”

“Now what?” Angel demanded, getting in his face with her hackles up. “I lied and stole, and I was just as mean to her as she was to us. So if you're gonna be mad at her you should be mad at me too.”

Zar backed down, disconcerted by Angel's unexpected reaction. “Yeah, but...”

“But nothing,” Toby interrupted. “Boys, it's reasonable for you to be angry at her. But Angel's taken the worst of it when Star was sick and when she wasn't, so she's got more right to be angry than the rest of you put together.”

“Doesn't mean we have to let it go just because she does,” grumbled Melchior.

“No, it doesn't,” Arrow agreed. “You should forgive her anyway, because she's sorry.” She looked at Star then, her eyes full of conviction. “Admittedly I'm not very happy with you right now either. But if Angel's going to forgive you, I guess I can't let my little sister be more mature than me.”

“Yeah,” Zar retorted, “But you don't have to worry about humans not wanting you. You've already got one.”

Star was dumbstruck as she watched the exchange. If there was any doubt before that Angel, or Arrow for that matter, had really been sorry, here was the proof.

Caspar looked around and took a deep breath. “You guys do what you want,” he said, addressing his brothers. “Star, I'm not mad at you.”

“Really?” she asked.

He nodded. “I know what you did was wrong, but you're sorry now, and I don't think you'll do it again. So I forgive you.”

What Star did next surprised everyone, herself included. “Thank you!” she yipped, leaping out of the basket and catching him head-on, sending the both of them tumbling head over heels. He responded with a playful nip to the ear, and a moment later the two of them were having a joyful romp all over the living room.

Toby was smiling so broadly, it hurt (no mean trick for a mouth as big as his). He'd never seen Star so happy. Ever. “That's my boy,” he sighed wistfully.

“Our boy,” Luna corrected him.

Toby nudged Angel's tail with a paw. She turned and caught a wink he sent her way, which she passed on to Arrow. With no further prompting, the two of them joined their kin gamboling about the room.

Toby cleared his throat to the two remaining boys. “Well,” he asked, “You two want to join the fun, or are you not interested in playing with a brat?”

The two of them looked at each other. “Hey, wait for me!” barked Zar. He ran to join the frisking pups, with Mel close behind.

Toby had to blink away a tear. “Are you as proud as I am right now?” he asked Luna.

She nuzzled his cheek. “Believe it, love,” she whispered. Surveying the room, she murmured, “This is the best day of my life.”

Upstairs, the Calvins had been in the process of bedding down for the night as all this was going on. Mr. Calvin, already in his night clothes, walked over to Connie's room and knocked on the door. “Go quiet those dogs down, please,” he called.

Connie got out of bed and went downstairs, rubbing her eyes. She had been restless lately; a certain boy in her class was the son of a musher, and she had told him he could have the pick of the litter. But with the pups in quarantine, she worried that he might get upset with her.

“Okay, it's time for...” she started to say as she turned into the kitchen. She stopped, confused at what she saw but not really knowing what was going on. Then, shaking her head, she began to pile the pups into the basket.

Of course if you know anything about dogs, you know that trying to put active puppies in a basket is like trying to keep water in a bucket with no bottom. “Star,” she groaned, “Stay there. I've put you in the basket three...”

She stopped. Star? She stared at the wriggling pup in her hands. It was! And whatever had happened to her, she was as healthy and energetic as ever. “Mom! Dad!” she yelled. “Star's okay! She's better!”

Star could hardly have said it better as she finally settled down to sleep that night. She didn't have to fake being sick now, her brothers and sisters finally liked her again, and best of all, she didn't feel like some fat, lazy user. Sure, she was going to have to leave soon now that the Calvins knew she was well, but somehow even that didn't bother her now. Everything was perfect.

After her brothers and sisters had gone to sleep, Star stealthily crawled up to Luna's face and nudged her until she stirred. “Wha...?” Luna groaned slightly and blinked sleep away from her eyes. “Star?” she asked as her senses began to register.

“Yeah.”

Luna yawned. “What is it?”

Star sat down, all smiles. “Remember when I got into Connie's makeup and made a big mess?”

“Mm-hm.”

“And remember how I said I wanted to look pretty like you?”

Luna nodded again. “What about it?”

“Well, when all of us were playing, I felt pretty. I felt... oh, I don't know how to say it.”

Luna's eyebrows raised, drawing the corners of her mouth after them. “Try,” she whispered.

Star took a deep breath to collect her thoughts. “Well, after Lily said I looked like a boy, I felt ugly, like there was something wrong with me. Like I was some kind of goof-up, you know?”

Luna nodded; she had felt the same way for a little while after finding out she was related to Steele, especially after she and Toby almost stopped being friends over it. “Yes,” she whispered, “Go on.”

“I've felt that way ever since. First I felt ugly on the outside, and then when I started to pretend to be sick it made me feel ugly on the inside too, especially when you and Angel and Arrow and Daddy did all kinds of things for me. But after I told everyone what I was doing, I felt... better. Like I had just gotten cleaned off after being in the garbage. I felt all fresh and clean inside, and I felt beautiful. And it hasn't gone away.”

Luna's eyes were streaming ever so slowly now, and her voice cracked like ice in the spring. “Oh, sweetheart,” she all but sobbed.

Star caught the catch in her mother's voice, and the scent of salt from the tears stung her nose. “Mom, are you sad?”

Luna shook her head. “No, I'm just so happy that I'm crying.” She laughed, but had to stop when her moving side drew whines of protest from the other sleeping pups. Forcing herself under control, she whispered, “Go to sleep now. But tomorrow, I want your father to hear everything you just told me.”

Star nodded. “Okay,” she whispered, and curled up nestled under her mother's chin. She let out a tiny yawn, and in moments she was sound asleep.

“You're late,” Luna chided the following morning as Toby trotted up. The pups were in a box, Luna was standing guard, and Connie was sitting on a crate as if presiding over the give-away.

Toby lowered his head. “Sorry,” he replied. He glanced at the pups in the box. “I was kind of hoping if I didn't show, this wouldn't happen.”

She shook her head. The truth was, she felt the same way; she wanted to pretend it wasn't happening, that the pups would never have to leave. But they were leaving, and time was short. “Well, so far so good,” she replied. “Everybody's here, and Star has something to tell you.”

“Yeah,” Star agreed, but the other pups' barking drowned her out.

“Kids, hush,” Toby wuffed. As soon as they had subsided, he nodded to Star. “Alright, go ahead.”

The pup smiled. “Well,” she said, “I guess Mom told you I got into some trouble trying to look nice You know, before I got sick. See, when Mom and the rest of us met Lily, she said I looked like a boy, and it really made me feel bad.”

Toby couldn't help showing some tooth. “Why that lousy...”

“Eh-hem,” Luna coughed, reminding him that there were pups present.

He lost the frown. “Go on,” he prodded.

“Well, when Angel and Arrow and everyone else forgave me last night, I felt... better, like something had been wrong with me and it was finally right. I felt pretty.”

Toby smiled. “That's good,” he said. “I'm glad things could end that way.” Leaning in close, he added, “And I know I'm a little bit biased, since I'm your dad and all, but I've always thought you were beautiful.”

She wagged her tail.. “Really?” she asked.

He nodded, the smile on his face uncontrollable even if he had cared to try.

Their conversation was interrupted as a pair of running feet came up. A boy with skin uncommonly dark for such cold regions, but not so dark as a negro, appeared from down the street. His eyes were almond-shaped, the flesh below them bunched slightly as though in a perpetual smile. And he was definitely smiling now. “So you finally got word to hand them out?” he asked.

Connie rose from her seat. “Yeah, Star was sick, but she suddenly got better last night.”

A man came up behind the boy, bundled in fur and sealskin. “Hello, Ms. Calvin,” he greeted formally.

Connie smiled up at him. “It's nice to meet you, Mr...”

“Chugach will do,” he replied, smiling. “My surname is much harder for many.”

Connie seemed a little awkward at calling an adult by his first name, but nodded. “Chugach,” she repeated. “And you can call me Connie.”

Mr. Chugach nodded distractedly and looked down at the puppies, all swarming the near side of the basket. “So, these are the pups I have heard so much about?” he asked.

Connie nodded. “Yes, sir. Their father's part bloodhound, part husky. Sometimes the police use him for tracking. And their mother's a mix. We don't know what breeds she's got, but she's strong.”

Chugach nodded, his mouth forming a firm line as he knelt to inspect Toby and Luna. “Strong breeds,” he replied. Then he turned and began to inspect the pups one by one, very thoroughly.

The boy looked at Connie. “It was kind of you to tell us first,” he said. “Father is always looking for pups to raise into good qimugta.”

“Qimugta...” Connie uttered, trying to place the Inuit word. “Sled dogs?”

The boy nodded. “Yes.”

Connie smiled, her face betraying just a hint of bashfulness. “Well, I remembered you said he was a musher, so I figured you'd like first pick.”

“Thank you, Connie.”

“You're welcome, Akkikiktok,” she replied, with only a slight falter.

He grinned broadly. “You have been practicing! You speak well. But you can call me Akkik if it is easier.”

A flush crept into her cheeks, and she bent to watch the pup's inspection (or rather, to hid the red glow). “Thank you Akkik.”

Star giggled. “He's the one she was talking to her diary about,” she whispered to her parents. “I think she likes him.”

Chugach set down Melchior and picked up Star, studying her thoroughly. He ran a gloved thumb across her side from hip to shoulder a few times, then gently drew her lips apart and studied her teeth and gums. Next came her paws, and finally her face.

“That one's name is Star,” Connie told him helpfully.

He nodded, a smile creeping into his serious demeanor. “It suits her eyes well,” he noted. “She and her mother have some of the brightest I have seen on any dog.” He picked up Mel in his other hand. “And what is this one's name?”

“Melchior,” Connie replied.

Chugach nodded his approval. “A fine name,” he said. “A name fit for a long traveler. It is a hard choice between the two of them.”

“You can have both,” offered Connie, almost pleading. Her glance at Akkik betrayed the reason for any watchful observer to see.

Chugach looked back and forth between the two one more time. “I believe I will,” he replied, handing Star over to his son. “These two will make fine qimugta.”

“Yes,” agreed Akkik. “And her fur is quite beautiful as well.”

Star's eyes lit up. “Mom, Dad, did you hear that?” she asked. “He said I was beautiful too!”

Both of them laughed. “Oh, we heard all right,” said Toby.

Luna stepped up and nuzzled her daughter. “Goodbye,” she whispered with a touch of sadness. “I'll visit whenever I can, and I'll always be here if you need me.”

“Me too,” added Toby before turning to Mel. “Same for you, big guy.”

Mel frowned. “Whatever,” he muttered.

“Come,” said Chugach, “Let's get these pups acquainted with their team to be.”

As father and son carried off brother and sister, Toby thought somewhat unpleasantly, “I wonder how well Melchior will do on a sled team.”

The pups were brought to a small wooden shed behind a much bigger house. When Chugach opened the door, a musty smell of straw and dogs wafted out. A small crowd of pups, all about Star and Mel's size, scampered toward them. Chugach stuck out his foot and nudged them back, but one jumped over the obstacle and slipped outside to frolic in the snow, yipping his head off.

“Ach!” snapped Chugach. “Son, get that little scamp before he runs off!”

Akkik put Star down and turned to run after the renegade pup. From the group by the doorway Star could see as the boy lung for the pup, which dodged to the left. Rolling to his side and flailing his arms, Akkik made another grab from his newfound spot in the snow. After a few more false tries, the two of them vanished from sight of the doorway. There was an exclamation, a yelp of protest, and a lot of excited barking.

“I got him!” he cried from outside.

“He got my tail!” came a protesting bark.

“It's funny,” Star remarked to Mel, who wasn't really paying attention. “I feel like...”

And then in came Akkikiktok, carrying a squirming mass of mix-colored fur. Star's jaw dropped, and her eyes widened.

“Eska?!”

All characters © Dragon Tamer

If you haven't already, be sure to read "Fallen Angel" to see the inside scoop on what Angel was doing all that time with the gang.