He licked her muzzle. “Sunshine,” he said. “There’s nothing we can do for Alfie.”

“But . . .” Daisy faltered.

Lucky held her gaze, his heart feeling as heavy as a rock. “There’s less blood because the Earth-Dog has taken most of it already. Do you see Alfie’s eyes?”

Martha took a hesitant step closer. “They’re so blurry—as if he can’t see anymore.”

“Alfie’s essence is flowing out of his body. It’s starting to become one with everything else around us.” Lucky gazed down at the little dog, his shallow occasional breaths barely lifting his flank.

The Leashed Dogs fell silent again, and Martha lay down to push her nose close to Alfie’s. “Oh, my poor little friend.”

“This isn’t fair!” whimpered Sunshine, raising her pleading eyes to Lucky’s. She let out a terrible, mournful howl. “Why did this have to happen?”

Lucky longed to look away, but he knew he couldn’t; his friends were grieving. They needed him to be strong.

Bella raised her muzzle and whined, and then Mickey and Daisy joined in the Pack’s howl. Even stolid Bruno gave voice to his misery.

Lucky dipped his head to tenderly lick Alfie’s face.

“He was barely more than a puppy,” Martha said softly.

Lucky licked each dog’s muzzle in turn, trying desperately to give some comfort. “We just won’t be able to see Alfie, that’s all. But he will still be with us, around us—in the air and the water and the earth.”

Sunshine jerked back from him, and he blinked in surprise.

“What use is that?” she barked. “I liked Alfie being here! In his own body. With us!”

Lucky had no answer. Despite his reassuring words about the spirit essence, he knew just how Sunshine felt. The painful memory struck him again: Alfie, given new heart by Lucky’s arrival and desperate to impress him, charging bravely at the dog-wolf and paying with his life.

Oh, Alfie, thought Lucky miserably, if only I’d stayed out of sight.

He turned back to the younger dog, bending to lick his nose again very gently. No breath came from Alfie’s muzzle now. Bella came to his side, nuzzling Alfie’s ear. The others gathered around her.

“I’ll miss you, Alfie,” mourned Daisy.

“We all will.” Mickey nudged his tail gently. “Safe journey, my friend.”

“Into the world,” added Sunshine, her whines heavy with grief.

Lucky took a small pace backward as he watched them say their farewells. He wished he could see Alfie’s essence escaping his body. It would be reassuring to watch his spirit flow into the trees, and the air, and the clouds. It would make this so much easier for all of them if they could witness his final journey.

But there was only a lifeless little body lying on the dry earth, and the first faint suggestion of the death-smell. There was nothing inside Alfie’s body anymore—no breath, no spirit, no life. Lucky slumped down onto his belly and added his whines of grief to the Pack’s.