They stopped dead. Twitch was lurching in a circle in a clearing between some straight-backed pines, howling in agony. He held his deformed forepaw close to his body, whimpering as he staggered and tried to right himself. His littermate Spring was barking, but the other dogs could only watch in horrified silence.

“What happened?” asked Lucky.

Sweet approached him. “There’s some marshland just ahead, soft earth that’s waterlogged and hard to walk in. Twitch tried to cross it but his rear paw got trapped and he fell. He’s twisted his forepaw.”

Twitch’s flanks were heaving and Lucky was worried that something was seriously wrong. He looked up to see Sweet still watching him, her soft ears lowered. She stepped away from the others into the shelter of a low branch, and Lucky followed.

“It’s the same paw that was already damaged,” Lucky observed in a low voice. “Twitch is used to managing with a bad paw. He’ll be okay, won’t he?”

The swift-dog cast a glance at Twitch, who was whimpering pitifully. “I don’t think he’s going to be okay at all. I can’t be sure, but I think I heard his bone break.”

As she said this, Twitch slumped onto his side, his injured paw still raised protectively. He licked it, whining, his body shuddering.

Lucky glanced back in the direction of the valley. It was concealed beyond the forest. Above the trees, the dark cloud in the sky hovered. Its body was spreading out and breaking apart, but that didn’t make Lucky feel any better about its presence.

What if Alpha is right? he thought. What if the black cloud is an angry Sky-Dog? And could Twitch’s injury have been the Earth-Dog’s doing?

He had taken comfort in the thought that the Spirit Dogs were watching over the Packs, protecting them from harm. Now he wasn’t so sure.

It was starting to feel like the Spirit Dogs were against them.

CHAPTER THREE

The dogs padded through the forest, twigs and dead leaves crunching beneath their paws. Their pace was slower now, allowing Twitch to keep up. The injured dog limped after the others in silence, holding his paw close to his chest. His littermate Spring offered to help support him but he snapped at her—“Keep away!”—and she took a few paces back.

Drifting to the rear of the group, Lucky studied Twitch from the corner of his eye. He wasn’t sure if the floppy-eared dog would make it to the new camp, or how he would survive if he did. His damaged paw had already put him at a disadvantage, and now he would struggle more than ever. Lucky’s own wounds from the fight with the foxes still smarted, and pain shot through his leg if he put too much weight on it—how must Twitch be feeling?