A loon bird wailed like a wolf in the night. The snow on the mountains glowed. And soon a host of little lights twinkled out across the lake from inside the island’s woodland chambers and Peter was glad to be home.

He waited on the bridge for a while just in case Cooper turned back to look his way. He never did. Peter already longed to be back in Cooper’s arms. But he would wait. He hadn’t seen his dad in weeks now.

Lamplight from the tree-house window winked through the pines beckoning Peter indoors, so he quickly crossed the bridge, stubbing snow from his toecaps as he went and quietly turned the door handle.

His dad had helped bury Darlene and Henry’s bodies out on the mainland so memories of them wouldn’t linger nearer home. But he’d mostly been inactive in the weeks that followed, waiting for his ribs to heal. And he looked kind of small tucked up inside his long johns beside the log burner. His stubble had started to grow back into a beard. But the truth was, being locked inside Henry’s bedroom that night while the others perished out on the lake was probably the thing that had saved him.

“Pete.”

“You haven’t drowned in dust yet, then,” said Peter.

His dad set the piece of wood he was busy whittling down across his lap and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, hi, Dad. And how are you doing since I dumped all the newbies on you and went out shopping for more? Well, son, I’ve still got a broken rib but I’m doing just swell, thanks for asking.”

Peter glanced at the pair of boxers draped over the antlers that were used to hang mugs from and his dad pressed back into the rocking chair. “Go on,” he said tilting forward. “Say it.”

“Say what?”

“It looks like we’ve been robbed.”

“That would be a blessing,” said Peter. “Then at least some things would be missing.”

“Well, I’ll tell you what is missing.”

“What?”

“A hug. Come here and give your old man a kiss.”

Peter mustered a smile. “You’ve gotten skinny,” he said, bending over the back of the rocker to kiss the top of his dad’s head.

“Yeah. Reckon I lost some muscle mass sitting around so long.”

“But you’re OK?”

“Better for seeing you. And Cooper?”

Peter quietly hung his wolfskin on the back of the door and stood at the window. A blue jay popped out from beneath a bough, shaking snow dust from its rump. It screamed to ward off an intruder and disappeared back inside again.

“Snowball’s dead.”

“What?”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” said his dad. “You’re shivering.”

“I’m fine.”

“Peter, come here.”

“No. I need to find Tokala.”

“Pete, come over here where I can see you properly.”

“Dad, I said I’m fine.”