Alika and Tarka moved fast through the Wulfwoods, trotting and weaving between the trees. They kept the rings of Tasien in sight at all times, guiding them north. There was no time for detours or play. Alika was certain that the wolves were right behind them, and she was right.

Their paws imprinted in the snow, leaving behind an easy trail to follow. The howls of the wolves behind them got louder and louder.

Alika leaped over a partially frozen stream. There was no time to stop. She glanced behind her to see Tarka attempt the same jump, only to crash into the ice, his hindlegs making clean holes.

“Alika!” he said, struggling to pull himself out. His claws made an awful screeching noise on the ice as he wriggled, flailing his wings around.

Alika bit down on the back of his neck and tugged. He whimpered as her sharp twin fangs dug in, but the ice cracked, and he got free. He scrunched up his neck, trying to rub at the place she’d bit him.

“Hurry!” she hissed, whacking him with her tail before running off. He sprinted as fast as he could but was still unable to keep up. The howls grew louder. It felt like the entire forest was screaming at them.

Tarka began panting, warm breath creating clouds in the air. His legs shuddered with every step. He misplaced one and tripped on a root, falling into the snow.

Alika snarled, running back to try and help him up. His eyes looked up from the snow, his snout buried in it.

“We’re not going to make it,” Tarka whimpered. “They’re going to rip us apart, just like mom.”

“We will make it. We have to.” Alika glanced behind them, then back toward the rings. The northern edge of the Wulfwoods was so far away, and the glacier still so close. Even if they ran the rest of the day, she still wasn’t sure they’d get to the far side. The howls seemed closer than ever.

Tarka was right. There was no way. The wolves would catch them long before they left the woods.

Alika shut her eyes, willing herself to think. Her heart raced; her talons trembled. There had to be something she could do, some way to stall them. Perhaps they could run through the stream, and hide their scents and tracks? Doubtful, the wolves would see where the ice in it cracked. If one of them went upstream and the other downstream, maybe at least one of them would survive? No; there were more wolves than them, so splitting up wasn’t an option. Could she set one of the trees on fire and create a diversion? Probably not in time, with the recent snowfall.

She stared up at the snow-covered branches. There was one thing she knew dragons could do better than wolves. It would just be buying them time, but she didn’t see any other options.

“Tarka, do you remember climbing those ruins?”

“Yeah,” Tarka said, lifting his head from the snow. “What about it?”

“Do you think you’re strong enough to climb that tree?” Alika gestured to it with a wing. The trunk was thick enough to hold a dragon cub, the branches both high enough up the wolves wouldn’t be able to leap up there, and low enough that they could get up there quickly.

“I think so?” Tarka replied. “It’s kind of smooth.”

“We need to get up there.” Alika’s ears twitched at a howl. “Quickly.”

Tarka walked over, placing his forepaws on the bark and extending his claws. Curling his tail and wings around the truck as best he could, he began digging his hindpaws in. Slowly, he scooched up it.

He managed to get a bit over Alika’s height before placing his hindpaw on a small, nubby branch. It snapped, and with a yelp, he began sliding back down. Spreading his wings, he fell flat on his back in the snow.

“It’s too slippery,” he murmured.

Alika nosed his neck. “I know you can do it,” she said, ears twitching. The wolves were close, so close she thought she could smell them. “I’ll help you, okay?”

Tarka got back up to his paws, and this time, Alika let him climb up on her. She got on her hindlegs unsteadily, trying to balance herself with her wings as Tarka stepped on her head. He latched onto the tree trunk, slowly scooching himself up to the branches.

Alika began climbing after him. He was right: the tree trunk was slippery, and it was hard to hold onto it.

Suddenly, a white blur careened out from the snowy bushes. It leaped into the air, snarling. Alika yelped, pulling herself up and swishing her tail out of its way. The wolf’s jaws clamped down, missing the end of her tail by the length of a fang.

“Stay back!” Alika roared, blasting flame at the wolf. It yipped, leaping out of reach and howling. Alika saw more movement between the trees.

Her talons hooked into the bark, panting as she struggled to climb. Too fast on one jab, her grasp slipped, and her talon raked down the tree. She dug them in tighter as the wolf below jumped again, managing to stop her fall.

Alika kept climbing, the poor tree scarred with claw marks by now. She made the mistake of looking down. More wolves had gathered at the base of the trunk, drooling and growling. She began to shake. If she fell now, it would be to her death.

Another howl caused the wolves to scatter, and Seluk bounded over the stream. The pack leader was looking worse for wear. Serka had scorched away the fur on her right side, leaving behind blistering burns. But for all the injuries the dragon had given her, Seluk’s legs were still strong, and her fangs were still sharp. She leaped into the air, far above the height the other wolves had reached, her jaws heading straight for Alika’s tail.

“Stay back!” Tarka roared. A pinecone whacked Seluk in the snout, knocking her away just enough that all she managed to do was rip a blue tuft of fur away from Alika.

Alika scrambled up the tree, grabbing the lowest branch and hoisting herself onto it. It was large enough for her to comfortably rest on, and it seemed in no danger of breaking, even from her weight.

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Seluk howled again, a chill running through Alika’s blood. They might have been alive, but they were far from safe. This was the wolf who’d torn their mother open. They were trapped. They were still going to die.

“Hah, can’t get us!” Tarka shouted from a nearby branch. He threw down another pinecone at Seluk, hitting her between her yellow eyes. “No climbing for you!”

Seluk bared her fangs, her ears twisting back. “You can’t stay up there forever.”

Alika dug her foreclaws into her pawpad. The pain helped bring her back from her panic. She needed to focus and figure something else out. The dragon took in a few deep breaths, trying to regain her composure.

“A-are you sure?” Alika asked. “We’re not at all hungry, there’s a lot of snowmelt, and the winter winds aren’t here yet. It’ll be quite a while before we need to come down. Dragons love high places, you know.”

She doubted that hiding in a tree above a pack of ravenous wolves was exactly what Serka had meant by ‘high places’, but Seluk wouldn’t know the difference.

“I’ve been waiting quite a while for this,” Seluk replied, narrowing her eyes. “I’m very patient. I can wait a little longer.”

“Patient enough to spend a month doing nothing but staring at us?” Alika asked. “Really? How will you eat? How will you sleep?”

Serka turned her head from side to side. “My pack is with me. We all watch as one, we all hunt as one. Only one of us is needed here.” The wolves began howling in unison, a chorus in support of their leader.

“But there are two of us, and I am a dragon with fire,” Alika retorted. “A lone wolf is a weak wolf. Are you willing to risk your packmates like that? I might be small, but you feel what my mother has done. Leaving more wolves here will mean fewer who can hunt before winter and more chance they get burned.”

“Then we are at a standstill,” Seluk replied, undeterred. “You cannot leave, and we cannot let you leave.”

Seluk was right. Alika scanned the treetops. It was dense enough that she and Tarka might be able to jump from branch to branch, but it was likely to end up with one snapping. Even if they could do it, there was bound to be another stream cutting a line in the trees they couldn’t cross, and when they leaped down, the wolves would surely be there. Even if Alika could fly, Tarka would be stuck. Still, that gave her an idea…

“Are we? I can fly away at any time,” Alika lied.

Tarka raised his head. “But…” he began to say.

Alika jerked her head and made a shushing noise, silencing him. He looked slightly concerned but said nothing more.

“And you would leave your poor brother to be devoured all by himself?” Seluk asked. “My respect for Serka wanes further if she raised her cubs to betray each other like that.”

“He’s small and puny, all fur and bones,” Alika said. “I’m the one you really want.”

“A deal. Are you proposing that we take you, and let your brother free?” Seluk licked her fangs. “I require flesh and blood for Serka stealing our prey and killing my cubs. As she is dead and her remains already picked clean, I suppose you would do in return.”

Alika paused. It was a better offer than she’d thought she would get, and it meant Tarka would stay alive.

“No!” Tarka growled. He threw another pinecone down, Seluk sidestepping this one. “I’m not letting you hurt her!”

“To die for one’s family is honorable,” Seluk growled. “Perhaps I do still have a shred of respect for Serka, after all.”

Alika let out a puff of smoke. Even if she did accept the offer, there was no way Tarka would be able to get to the north on his own. She had fire to warm them and even a little hunting experience. Tarka had nothing. He’d starve or freeze without her, and the wolves would get him in the end. It had to be both of them.

“I have another offer,” Alika said hesitantly. If she went through with this, it would be a gamble. “Is it true that you are faithful to your word, and never go back on your promises?”

“I am, as any pack leader must be,” Seluk replied, a hint of pride in her voice. “What of it?”

“And is your mind as sharp as your claws?”

Seluk growled. “It is. Get to the point.”

“I propose a contest,” Alika continued. “If I win, both Tarka and I go free. You, nor none of your pack, will harm us while we remain in the Wulfwoods. If I lose, then you can kill us both.”

Tarka’s claws scratched into the tree. Alika could tell he didn’t like this, but she saw no other option.

“And what sort of contest?” Seluk asked.

Alika paused for a moment. “A riddle.” Serka had told them riddles throughout the Long Night, and Alika had always had a knack for them.

“As you proposed the type of contest, it is only fair that I decide the riddle,” Seluk said.

“I agree to that,” Alika replied, not sure that she had much other choice.

Seluk wagged her tail, almost like she was excited. The other wolves stared up at Alika in unison.

“My kind shares many great qualities,” Seluk stated. “What is it that sets me above the rest of my packmates, to make me their leader?”

Alika froze. How did wolves choose their pack leaders? Her mother’s pack had passed down leadership matrilinearly, to each of their eldest daughters. Other packs let the oldest dragons lead. Could it be that she was the oldest?

“It’s because she’s so big and strong,” Tarka whispered to Alika. “All the other wolves are smaller.”

“No, that’s too obvious,” Alika whispered back. She vaguely remembered Serka telling her that some packs did it that way, where dragons would fight each other to lead the pack. She scanned over the wolves again.

Why would they all follow Seluk? Was she a great hunter? Alika thought hard, trying to remember everything Seluk had said, the way the wolves smelled.

“It’s because you’re a mother,” Alika stated.

Seluk growled. Alika was afraid that she’d gotten it wrong before Seluk let out a raspy chortling laugh.

“You are correct, dragon,” Seluk said. “You win your game.”

Tarka let out a celebratory yip, and Alika let out the breath she had been holding in. She’d done it. They were safe.

“So we’re free to go? No tricks?” Alika asked.

“I swear on all our territory that my pack will not harm you. We will guide you through the Wulfwoods, and our scents will never mix again.”

“Not your territory. I want you to swear on your pack. Your family.”

“So be it. I swear it on my pack: neither you nor your brother will be harmed.” The wolves howled in unison.

Slowly, Alika began to scooch down the tree. She stared at Seluk’s injured snout. If there was any sign Seluk was lying, Alika saw none. She leaped the last tail-length to the ground, landing the the midst of the wolf pack.

The wolves began moving toward her, and Alika’s claws went up in panic. Yet, the wolves did not touch her, just smelling her curiously.

“I keep my word to friends and enemies alike,” Seluk said. “Serka’s cub or not, you are safe.”

Tarka leaped to the ground a moment later, landing in the snow, almost on top of one of the wolves who’d been beneath him. He shook the snow from his wings and batted away an inquisitive wolf with his tail.

“Follow!” Seluk yelled, letting out a howl. The other wolves joined her in howling, swarming around the two dragons as they began to head north.

Tarka howled with the wolves, staying next to Alika.

“That was so cool!” Tarka said to her. “How did you know she was their mom? Did you smell it?”

“Sort of.” Alika lowered her ears and quieted her voice. “Seluk had said earlier that Mom had killed her cubs. The same fury that I saw in Mom’s eyes when she was defending us…I saw it in Seluk’s as well.”