“Kurka, wait!” Omerka cried.

“What is this?” Kurka snarled, lifting Tarka from the snow. Tarka squirmed in her grasp, his tail thrashing. “Why have you brought outsiders back to the pack, sister?”

“They’re Serka’s cubs!”

Kurka held Tarka against her nose, running her snout along the back of his neck, sniffing.

“So he is,” Kurka grumbled. She placed Tarka back down in the snow, and turned toward Urka and the newcomers. Her gaze passed over Alika and the disguised Snow, before settling on Gust. The tip of Kurka’s tail lashed, spraying one of the pack’s cubs with uplifted snow.

“Ah, well, not the green one,” Omerka hurriedly explained. “But the other three are. Alika, Tarka, and Snowka.”

Alika grit her fangs, taking in deep breaths. Tarka had gotten up, and was brushing off the snow from his wings. He wasn’t in danger. It had just been a misunderstanding.

“You must be Kurka,” Alika said, still simmering with rage. She bowed her head, keeping an eye on Tarka. “We are honored to finally meet you.”

If Kurka had heard Alika, she made no motion to respond, not giving her a second glance.

“And what are Serka’s cubs doing here?” Kurka asked Omerka.

“They have traveled far, and hope to rejoin the pack.”

“Do they now?” Kurka snorted. “And why should I let them?”

Alika lifted her head, staggering back. Let them? This wasn’t what she’d expected at all. They were supposed to be welcomed back into their pack with open wings, their family glad to finally reunite with them. Why were the members of the pack all growling and glaring? Why was it even a question whether they would be let back in? This was where they were supposed to be!

“Because we’re your family?” Snow snapped. “Because we have nowhere else to go?”

Kurka ignored her, continuing to lock eyes with her sister. “Serka chose that foolish drake over the pack. She left of her own volition, and I have no intention of giving in to that brat’s ridiculous demands. Come back? It’s almost winter, and three more mouths are a lot to feed!” Kurka looked past Gust. “Where is Serka, so I can chase her away myself!”

“Serka is dead, esteemed sister,” Omerka sighed. “Her cubs are orphaned.”

Kurka’s ears lowered, her eyes opened wide. For a moment, Alika was sure that she saw grief and pain cross her grandmother’s snout. But it was quickly gone, replaced with the hardened expression of a pack matriarch.

“Of course she is,” Kurka muttered. She turned her head downward to one of the adult dragons flanking her. “Am I obligated any charity to my dead daughter, who is not part of the pack? Am I obligated any charity to her cubs, who are also not part of the pack?”

“You are not, esteemed mother,” the dragon replied.

“Correct!” Kurka said. “I am not!”

“Kurka, please,” Omerka continued. “Serka’s cubs had nothing to do with her own betrayal. They’ve demonstrated bravery, courage, strength, and fitness by coming all this way themselves. Flightless, they walked through Coldfire Pass and faced Tshishi.”

“Yeah!” Tarka added, lifting his head to his grandmother. “We’ve come so much further than that! We ran with wolves across the Wulfwoods, sailed across the Great Sea, fought with the Scribes, and journeyed across the Summerlands! We’re awesome!”

Though Kurka said nothing, the cubs of the pack began murmuring at this, small hints of whispered chatter and amazement. Even the adult that Kurka had spoken to said something to one of the cubs, before Kurka whacked him with a wing, silencing him.

“As you have heard, they have your strength, your blood.” Omerka gestured a wing at Alika. “She is the firstborn daughter of your firstborn daughter. Is it no surprise that she would be a born leader? Please, esteemed sister, just give them a chance.”

Kurka hesitated, deliberating.

“The Great Sea?” the youngest of the cubs asked. “You’ve been to the south?”

Another of the cubs quickly shushed him, returning their conversation to whispers.

“Fine,” Kurka finally said. “The three of them will be accepted as provisional pack members.” She turned her eyes to Alika, Kurka’s giant eyes finally meeting her stare. “I expect much from you.”

There was a quiet cheer among the cubs in the pack, waved wings and tails, though none went out to greet them. The stance among the adults relaxed.

“Thank you.” Omerka bowed her head.

Alika breathed a sigh of relief.

“Wait!” Tarka exclaimed. “What about Gust?”

“Gust?” Kurka asked.

Tarka gestured a paw toward Gust, who seemed to be hiding as much behind Urka’s wings as he could.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Ah.” Kurka glowered, lifting her head to get a better view of the Kurothian. “That. What is that? An animal from the south? It’s certainly not a dragon.”

A few of Alika’s packmates stepped toward Urka and Gust. Their talons stretched out, jaws opened. Alika shivered as she recognized the poses they were in — hunting poses.

Gust hurriedly levitated into the air, as Alika ran between him and her packmates.

“Wait, he’s with us!” Alika shouted. “Don’t hurt him! He’s a friend.”

“Adopted brother!” Tarka added.

“Yeah, that!” Gust gulped.

Kurka stamped down a paw. “This is a dragon pack, not a dragons and friends pack. Whatever it is, it cannot join.”

Omerka coughed, drawing Kurka’s attention back to her. “But if he isn’t a dragon, then he can’t be part of a rival dragon pack, can he? If he is neither enemy nor prey, why not let him travel alongside us?”

Kurka turned to her sister, growling and flashing her fangs. “I would not be so sure about that.”

“I can be helpful,” Gust squeaked, rapidly wiggling.

“Yeah, he’s a great hunter!” Tarka added. “He’s faster than all of us! Please let him stay!”

“I don’t eat much either,” Gust continued.

Kurka glared at Gust again, licking her fangs. “Well, so long as the hunting grounds are rich enough to feed it, and it causes no disturbances, then I suppose there’s no harm in letting it stay around. Fine. No one is to harm it.”

Omerka bowed her head. “Your decision is wise.”

“It will sleep alone on the ice, of course.”

“Of course,” Omerka parroted.

Kurka glowered at her sister. “And so will you and Urka, for bringing us four new mouths to feed.”

“Hey!” Tarka said.

“An acceptable punishment.” Omerka kept her head turned downwards.

“I’ll be joining Gust, then,” Snow stated.

Kurka turned to the small white dragon, her golden eyes staring upward.

“You will?” Kurka’s ears flicked, and she lashed her tail. The other dragons of the pack seemed tense and nervous. “Why would you willingly refuse to den with the pack? You want to be punished?”

“Gust has little fur,” Snow explained. “He gets colder at night much easier than the rest of us.”

Gust smiled at Snow, silently thanking her — even knowing that Snow couldn’t sleep in the den for other reasons.

“I can join as well,” Alika suggested. In her true form, Snow was too small to add much to Gust’s body heat. If he had to sleep out on the ice, Alika could help to keep him warm.

“Absolutely not!” Kurka snarled, taking a menacing stomp toward Alika.

Alika shuddered. What was with Kurka? All that Alika had done was suggesting to help out Gust.

“No, no,” Snow replied, swishing her tail. “You should go hang out with your — er, our family! Isn’t this what you wanted all along?”

Alika cocked her head at Snow. What was that supposed to mean?

“Yeah!” Urka grinned, wrapping a wing around Alika. “You’ll love the den! You haven’t really slept until you’ve slept in a pack pile!” He chuckled. “It’s um, it’s too bad I don’t get to sleep in one tonight.”

Urka looked up toward Kurka, who glared unsympathetically.

“Now that this ridiculous affair is over with, it’s time for sleep,” Kurka ordered. The sun had tucked itself below the horizon, and the world was covered in a blue light.

Kurka stretched out a wing, and headed toward the snowdrift. The rest of the pack followed, cubs herded toward a dug-out hole in the side of the snow.

Alika stared down at the ground. This had been a challenge she hadn’t expected, but they’d made it. They’d gotten to their pack, and had been accepted — even if their acceptance had been tenuous. Their entire journey, everything: it had all been for this.

And now, it was over. Tarka had a family again. All was well, wasn’t it? Alika should have been dancing in joy.

But she wasn’t.

“Hey, Gust?” Alika asked. The Kurothian was walking with Snow, Urka, and Omerka beyond the snowdrift. The ice on the water seemed well-attached to the coast, but it didn’t look like the best place to sleep. Cold winds whisked past the sheer surface.

“What is it?” Gust asked, turning his head, whiskers fluttering.

“Will you be okay?” Alika swished her tail. They were with their pack, their deadly journey at an end, but Alika just couldn’t rid herself of that feeling that they were still in danger. Something had to go wrong. “Tshishi is still around, and who knows what else is on the ice. And it’s really cold and all…”

“I’ll be alright,” Gust smiled weakly. “Snow is here, isn’t she? Don’t worry about me; you should enjoy your time with your pack.”

“I’ll be here as well!” Urka added. “Tshishi doesn’t come this far from the mountains. Usually. It’s okay, sleeping on the ice is sort of miserable, but everyone has to do it sometime or another when they do something bad! The worst that happens is that the ice breaks off, and the floe takes you away, and then you have to spend a day trying to find the pack again.” He paused. “And then you get in trouble again for being late for morning patrol and have to sleep on the ice again the next night. But that’s all pretty rare! Gust will be fine!”

“Alika!” Kurka’s roar bellowed from the den. “Get over here! No talking to the ice-sleepers!”

“Oh right, we’re not supposed to talk to you either,” Urka whispered. “Sorry.”

Alika lowered her snout and headed to the den. A tight chamber had been burrowed out of the snow, barely large enough for all of them. Fur-covered dragons were pressed up against each other from wall to wall, and the den was filled with the scent of dragon and prey-breath. It was odd, but it was warm and comfortable: far better than sleeping out on the wind-swept ice.

Tarka was already inside the den, up against a pair of the cubs. Each seemed to be looking at him with wary curiosity. Alika set herself down at his side, squished between him and one of the adults. It was odd, the scents of strange dragons and the feeling of unknown fur against her. But it was nice, and for the first time that day, Alika felt like she could relax.

Once the dragons were all settled, Kurka positioned herself against the den’s exit, blocking out the light and wind with her lumbering body. It went dark, and the den was filled with the slow breathing of dragons.

Alika fidgeted uncomfortably. Having so many dragons around her was nice. It was nice knowing that she was with her family, where she belonged. But it just felt wrong to not have Snow and Gust at her and Tarka’s side.

“Hey,” Tarka whispered, poking one of the cubs next to him in the dark. “What’s your name? I’m Tarka.”

“Shh!” the cub whispered back. “It’s nighttime! No speaking unless you want to sleep on the ice.”

“Oh, sorry,” Tarka replied.

Alika shut her eyes, trying to fall asleep to the sound of the dragon pack breathing around her.

“Hey, Alika?” Tarka whispered.

“Shh!” the dragons around them growled in unison.

Tarka said nothing after that.

Alika wrapped her wings tight around Tarka. They’d made it. They were home. They were back with their family. She should have been happy.

But everything just felt wrong.