“Nothing we can do about that fire except let it burn,” the first man said.

A clump of wetness fell on Jackson’s nose. He licked it, then looked up, surprised by the sudden cold.

Snow? Snow? Now? He’d already shed his winter coat. Why was there snow now?

“Shit,” one man muttered. “Didn’t come prepared for this.”

Jackson licked another snowflake off his nose.

One flake. Two. Ten. A thousand.

“We need to get back to the village while we can still find the road,” the second man said. “Jackson?”

One moment he watched the snow follow the path of the fire and lay a blanket over the land. The next moment, he could barely see the men and horses he’d accompanied.

The Hope pup was dressed for summer, and she’d been running toward the stream. If the Wolves got wet, they got wet. Their fur—even a summer coat—would protect them well enough from cold. But Hope...

Jackson headed back to Sweetwater, reminding himself to stay on the road since the Intuits would follow him and would end up lost and sick if he had to curl up and wait out the storm.

Then he trotted into bright sunlight and stopped so fast one of the horses almost stepped on him.

“By the gods,” one of the men breathed.

Sunlight. Warmth.

Jackson moved out of the way and shook out his fur before looking back at the wall of snow that was quickly turning into a few fluffy, lazy snowflakes. Then even those stopped falling.

“Maybe we should...”

Seeing the men look back, Jackson shifted to human form and wished he had some clothes, not for modesty but for warmth. “Do you have any reason to believe the humans in those trucks are still alive?”

They hesitated, not quite looking at him after the first glance. Then they shook their heads.

“Then stay on this side of the barricade. Stay on the land the Intuits are permitted to use. At least for now.”

“Going to have to deal with those trucks sometime. The remains will have to be returned to their families.”

Jackson caught a scent in the air that made him shiver. He looked at the men who weren’t quite looking at him. How to tell them what his instincts howled? “The wild country begins at the barricade now. It... surrounds... us. It surrounds that human town.”

“It always did.”

“Not like this.” He watched them pale.

Silence. Then, “No way out?”

“Not for a few days.” Didn’t want to be in this skin, didn’t want to look human.

Jackson shifted back to Wolf. Nothing more he could tell the Intuits anyway. Not yet.

He ran home to find Grace and the Hope pup near the stream with the rest of the pack. The sweet blood seemed dazed until he licked her cheek. Then she threw her arms around him and started crying.