“What were they?” asked Mickey. “They looked like Alpha, but thinner.”

“Coyotes,” replied Lucky with a shudder. “I don’t know much about them.”

“I already know more about them than I want to,” Mickey barked. He gazed out through the dark tangles of vines and branches. “We should keep moving.”

Lucky turned to the pups. “You all did really well, and I’m sorry that we won’t be able to go back to sleep just yet. We need to keep moving until the Sun-Dog appears. We’ll take it slowly, and we’ll look out for one another. The Pack of dogs that we’re going to meet has a camp by a large lake, under some rocks. There’ll be shelter and food there. What do you say?”

Grunt was the first on his paws, nudging his sister and brother. “Come on, you two!” he yipped as they rose more slowly.

Lucky led the way, with Mickey dropping to the back of the group, watching in case the coyotes reappeared.

Lucky focused on sniffing out a safe route through the trees. When he turned back to check on the pups he was pleased to see how helpful Grunt had become, encouraging his littermates with shunts of his snout and enthusiastic licks.

Lucky was grateful, but he still felt ill at ease. They’d survived their encounter with the coyotes, but Grunt had refused to hide. Lucky remembered how the pup had squirmed beneath him. He doesn’t like taking directions, Lucky thought. And he has more energy than he knows what to do with. Grunt was a survivor—Lucky could see that—but he was also a risk taker.

And taking risks could get a dog killed.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Lucky sank onto his belly on the rough soil at the bottom of the rocky overhang. It was where the united Pack had settled after their journey through the forest. He’d worked so hard to get the pups here, and now . . .

It was deserted.

He scanned the area, searching for signs of the Pack, and let out a long whine, his tail limp and his ears low. The Pack had disappeared. There was no dog to greet him, no yaps or barks. Even Alpha, with his snarling, wolfish face, would have been something.

Mickey appeared at Lucky’s side, sniffing the rocky earth.

“Where have they gone?” asked the black-and-white dog. Lick, Grunt, and Wiggle stood behind him, panting.

Lucky sighed. “I don’t know . . . they must have left not long after I did. There’s barely any trace of them.”

Lick sprang up to Lucky excitedly. “Is there food here?” she yapped, glancing around.