He turned toward a clearing with rolling fields below. It was the Leashed Dogs’ first territory, where they had learned to hunt and work as a team. He felt a surge of pride in his friends, despite everything—they had come a long way since they had first left the city.

With renewed energy, Lucky ran, dashing through the trees to open fields of grass until he could see jagged outlines of longpaw homes rise up against the skyline. They grew up like weeds around him as he stepped from the soft, muddy grass back onto the hard, cracked surface of the streets.

Lucky slowed his pace as he entered the city, sniffing for signs of bad air, listening for the familiar rumble of loudcages. But there was only silence. The loudcages stood lifeless between pools of shattered clear-stone. Beneath their twisted muzzles were dried pools of the juice longpaws fed them.

The loudcages have been bleeding.

The roads were cracked and Lucky had to leap over a foul-smelling stream. The water glistened, its oily sheen catching the light of the Sun-Dog, which climbed overhead.

The city was still deserted. The longpaws had not returned.

It was odd to be back here, to feel the hard stone under his paws. To his surprise, Lucky realized he had become used to the feel of grass. He felt a sudden longing for his old life of wandering, scavenging food, and relaxing with his friends, never depending on anyone else. But there was no denying that part of his life had gone, perhaps for good.

The city he had left behind had not returned to normal. He could never live here again.

Lucky slunk through the quiet streets, searching for the Leashed Dogs’ homes. The buildings looked familiar, though changed. The grass in front of the houses had grown almost as tall as he was, and vines crept along the walls without the longpaws to contain them. Everything looked tired and deserted.

He reached the corner of the street where the Leashed Dogs had lived before the Big Growl. Like the other buildings, the houses looked bent, their yards overgrown with neglect. Lucky watched from a distance, sniffing the air, wondering where Mickey had gone. He expected his friend to greet him with excited yaps, but the Farm Dog was nowhere to be seen.

If he isn’t here, where is he?

Lucky’s heart sank. What should he do now? Explore the city? No, there was nothing for him here anymore. Not even the scraps of food he’d once scavenged.

Lucky shook himself, took a deep breath, and sniffed again. Mickey! Yes, he was certain: His friend was nearby. But why can’t I see him?