Prologue

The water was cold. A biting chill which instantly cut through his fur as Hawl was plunged down into the murky flood waters that had swept over his home. He tried to scream in surprise, tried to howl out to his mother to save him. But his lungs just filled with a burning frigid sting. His mind whirled with panic and confusion. How did this happen? Had he slipped?

Hawl's vision was blurred and it was hard for him to keep his eyes open underwater. But he had to ignore the pain, he had to find the surface before he drowned!

Faint moonlight flickered inches above his nose. So close that he could feel the tips of his whiskers breaking the surface of the water. He tried to stand up, but something held him down below the water's surface. He strained against that weight, trying to push his nose up so that he could grab even the briefest drink of air. But in response the weight just pushed him down harder.

Blackness crept into the corners of the world, and Hawl felt himself fading. His struggles grew weak. And he wondered for the first time what it was like to die. He was just a puppy, a child who barely had time to experience life. He wasn't ready to die… not yet… not…

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He stopped moving for a while. Until suddenly the weight on his chest lifted, and he felt himself being dragged up out of the water by the scruff of his neck.

Hawl coughed his burning lungs free of liquid. Then he shook like a leaf in the wind as his mother lifted him up by the scruff of his neck. Forcing him to stand on two legs, but pulling him free from his death below. After a second she released him and allowed him to cling onto her like a raft.

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry!” she wheezed into his ears as she hugged him with her neck and head. Her body was shaking and her tears were mixing into the fresh water which threatened them.

Hawl gripped onto his savior as tightly as he could. And she comforted him by stroking his head with hers. Once his coughing stopped it was replaced by the wretched wailing of a scared child.

The gray wolf whined piteously as she held her child. She shushed him and tried her best to comfort him. Though it was clear that she was in a state of panic and shock. Then she whispered something into his ear. A phrase which Hawl had heard his entire life, but never truly understood until after this fateful night. An idiom that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

“What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger.”

And then, with tears in her eyes and a howl of guilt and grief, she plunged her child back down into the frigid water.