Lucky saw that Mickey was shaking with fear. How could he drag the black-and-white dog into danger? It would be so easy to sneak past the Dog-Garden. In no time he and Mickey would be lost in the expanses of the forest. If they hurried, they would be clear of the Wild Pack’s old camp and far away by no-sun.

They would be safe.

Another high yap shattered Lucky’s resolve. There were pups down there—frightened pups. They couldn’t just leave them to die. . . .

But do I have the courage to save them?

CHAPTER NINE

The two dogs were silent, their ears pricked as they listened to the whimpers that rose from the Dog-Garden.

“They’re pups,” Lucky barked decisively. “We can’t just ignore them.”

Mickey crouched low to the ground, his tail limp behind him.

“But, Lucky,” he whimpered, “they’re Fierce Dog pups. Their nature is different from ours. They live to fight.”

“Small ones can’t hurt us,” Lucky assured him with more conviction than he actually felt.

The Farm Dog shuddered. “Even if that’s true, what about their Mother-Dog? She can’t be far away. She’s probably out hunting for them, and will be back soon. If she sees us near her pups . . .” His eyes flicked warily around him, drinking in the heavy foliage. It was hard to see beyond thickets and branches.

Lucky raised his snout. “I don’t smell a Mother-Dog. I don’t smell much. . . .”

“That’s what worries me,” said Mickey. “Doesn’t it strike you as strange? There were so many dogs in their Pack, weren’t there? And there are pups in their territory now. So others must be nearby. They’ll be here before long.”

Lucky wasn’t so sure. Most of the scents of adult dogs were stale, with only a few fresher ones, and even they seemed a day old or more.

A high, desperate yip cut through the trees. Lucky’s chest tightened and his whiskers shivered. He couldn’t bear to hear that pitiful sound.

“What Mother-Dog could ignore that?” he asked Mickey. “Those pups are all alone.”

“Fierce Dogs are different,” Mickey whined. “Bella told me . . .”

Lucky’s ears twitched. He thought about the Dog-Garden, with its short-cut grass and bowls of dried nuggets of meat. Bella, Daisy, and Alfie hadn’t been able to believe their luck when they had found all that food—they hadn’t realized that the area was guarded by a Pack of ferocious Fierce Dogs. Lucky winced when he remembered how he had watched, hidden, as the powerful black-and-brown dogs had strutted past on thickly muscled legs, their short, pointed ears pricked up and their lips curled into snarls. He remembered their sharp scents that radiated power and aggression.

He couldn’t sense them now, though.