“Maybe you hunt alone in the city,” said Dart scornfully. “But we are a Pack, and the Pack tells us when to hunt. And that will be when we have earned our place as hunters!”

“Your place?” Lucky yelped, unable to believe what he was hearing. These dogs seemed . . . trained. “All dogs hunt! It’s natural.”

“Not patrol dogs. If we get promoted to the hunting den, it will be because we have earned it. Hunting is not our job, and it is not our right, either.”

Lucky looked from one to the other. They stared at him with such disapproval, he could not help his head dropping. “But I was not going to eat it straight away. I was—”

“The hunters will come out later,” Twitch told him. “Fiery will lead them out just as the Sun-Dog starts to yawn. That way the patrols are back in camp to support Alpha and guard Moon, and the food is brought back to camp to be shared at no-sun.” As Lucky opened his jaws to object, he snapped, “That’s how it works! Don’t bring your city ways to our Pack, Lucky.”

Lucky scratched fiercely at one ear, then shook himself and followed the other two obediently, with just one longing look after a last fleeing mouse. He supposed it was natural that the Pack would wish to defend their food source, and ensure that all the food was shared equally by all. If dogs hunted individually—like that nameless one who had eaten the rabbit—they might be tempted to take more than their share.

Oh, Forest-Dog, he thought dismally, I have so much to learn about Wild Pack life. Don’t let me make another mistake like that. . . .

He could not help a heavy sense of sadness in his gut, though. Twitch and Dart had been perfectly content to let all that prey elude them, which meant that there had to be a lot of food in this territory. Yet Bella and her Pack were farther up the valley, desperately hungry and unsure how long they could survive without taking serious risks, like stealing from the Wild Pack. If Alpha had been willing to share, there would be more than enough for all the dogs. It seemed such a waste, and so unfair.

There was no point in Lucky suggesting such a thing, though. One word in favor of the Leashed Dogs, and his new Packmates would be instantly suspicious.

And Lucky had a feeling that Alpha would need no more than a twinge of doubt to throw him out of the Pack, or worse. Do not let them get the faintest scent of what you really are, Lucky, he told himself.

He was treading on the shakiest of river-stones. He did not want to fall and be swept away—and become just another dog the Pack was afraid to name.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

By the time the Moon-Dog was stretching lazily on the horizon, Lucky was regretting the loss of the mouse more than he’d thought possible. Hunger bit at his stomach. He lay with his head on his paws, licking his chops and trying not to seem impatient in front of the others. At least, from what Twitch had said, the Pack did share the prey that the hunters would bring.