Thorns and long grass tugged against Lucky’s belly as the dogs slunk low to the ground, weaving their way through the undergrowth. He could hear the thrumming of the huge birds but couldn’t see them beyond the thick foliage.

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” whined Mickey.

Lucky was worn out from his long journey through no-sun and their escape from the collapsing longpaw house. He didn’t have the energy to argue anymore. He shot Mickey a sharp look and the black-and-white dog lowered his head and followed obediently.

It was easy to locate the massive birds, even when they’d sunk below the tree line. They made so much noise that all the wildlife of the forest scurried away from them as quickly as it could.

Lucky led Mickey through a clutch of low hedges, following the path of a flock of starlings fleeing in terror. Emerging into a clearing, the dogs saw three metal birds settled on the grass. Their wings whipped up a gale that warped the branches of surrounding trees and unleashed a blizzard of leaves. Lucky and Mickey ducked low, squinting against wind and debris. Then the wings began to slow.

“What do you think is going on?” Mickey barked.

As the dogs watched, hunkered low behind the hedge, the frightening yellow-furred longpaws spilled from the birds’ guts. They ran toward the forest, carrying strange, rigid sheets between them.

“They look a bit like longpaw beds,” Mickey whined. “Except without the comfortable thick fur. What are they for?”

Lucky just shook his head. He had no idea.

The birds were resting, their wings turning lazily now as the air grew calmer around them. The high barks of longpaws cut through the air and Mickey yelped. The yellow-furred longpaws who had gone into the forest reappeared, carrying a third longpaw on the bed between them.

Even from this distance, Lucky could see that there was something wrong with him. He was twisted onto one side. Like the other longpaws, his pelt was vivid yellow, but unlike them his face was exposed. His mouth was frothing with yellow spit and his pale skin was waxy. Lucky could smell the metal tang of blood in the air.

“The longpaw is wounded,” he told Mickey.

They looked on, concealed behind the hedge, as the longpaws hurried their injured Pack member to the first bird and slid him inside.

Mickey whined with fear. “That’s horrible!” he yelped. “A beast big enough and fierce enough to eat longpaws whole! They caught a weak one and they’re feeding him to the loudbird!”

“I’m not sure . . . it doesn’t seem to hurt him.” Lucky’s tail twitched and the whiskers bristled at his muzzle. The yellow-furred longpaws were climbing into the bird’s belly. They are choosing to go back inside the beast, Lucky thought. “I don’t know what’s going on,” he admitted. “Maybe we should move on.”