There was another long howl, which was joined by more voices. They seemed to be closer than the first howl. The hairs prickled along Lucky’s neck and his heart thumped in his chest.

“There are lots of them!” whined Mickey.

“We’ll be okay, but we must get moving.” He nudged the pups with his snout and they scrambled to their paws, dazed and scared. “Mickey, you stay to one side of the pups, and I’ll be on the other.” He sniffed the air but could not pick up a scent.

“Have they smelled us?” asked Lick.

“No, I don’t think so,” Lucky murmured. “They don’t know we’re here.”

“You’re not going to leave us, are you, Lucky?” Wiggle whimpered.

“We’re going to be by your sides the whole time,” Lucky promised. “There’s nothing to fear. Just stay quiet and keep moving—we’ll soon find somewhere safe to rest.” Lucky hoped he sounded reassuring, even though he was telling them a lie. The creatures they had heard sounded large and dangerous.

No dog spoke after that. They walked silently through the forest, the pups scrambling over fallen leaves, twigs, and thorns. Lucky knew it was hard for them, but he wanted to keep all his senses sharp and it would be easier to do that if he was not carrying a pup.

He could smell a sharp odor in the air—it smelled a little like wolf-stink, and also fox, but something told him these creatures were neither.

And a cold fear told him that whatever they were, they had caught the dogs’ scent. He could hear leaves crunching beneath paws, could smell the sharp odor getting closer.

“Wait!” Mickey yelped, as he stalked low behind the pups.

Lucky turned to him quickly. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Wiggle. He’s falling behind.”

“He’s really tired,” yipped Lick. “He’s not used to walking this fast, or this far.” Lucky guessed that none of the pups were, but the female’s eyes flashed with proud resilience, and Grunt jutted his pointy snout out alongside her.

Lucky was ashamed that he had not noticed. Now he could hear the smallest pup’s labored panting. Mickey and Lick were right—Wiggle was tired.

“Here,” he said gently. “I’ll carry you for a while. Mickey, you will need to be my eyes and ears.” The black-and-white dog dipped his head in acknowledgment, a shadow of dark fur against branches. Then Lucky scooped up Wiggle gently between his jaws. They all froze as they heard a strange voice.

“This way!” The voice was nasal and brassy. Lucky felt his whole body turn to stone.

“Smells dogsie-pets, smells them close.”

“Cubs! Smells cubs!”

Lucky’s heart lurched and he almost dropped Wiggle in shock. He knew what they were now—a Pack of these beasts had once entered the city, snarling and growling. Only longpaws carrying sticks had been enough to chase them away.