By the time the sun began to set in the northwest, Alika, Tarka, and Hedi were exhausted from hours of play. The three of them lay together in a pile of snow, curled up halfway around each other. Tarka let out a long yawn, stretching one of his wings and placing it over Hedi.

Alika was alerted by a loud growl, and her ears perked up, her talons tensing. Seluk was standing over the three of them, her fangs bared.

“Sorry,” Hedi whimpered.

“Get up. It’s time for us to go,” Seluk stated, pointing her snout toward the rings. Alika and Tarka brought their wings in, shuffling and untangling from the pile. As Hedi began to get to his paws, Seluk growled again. “Not you. You’re staying with the pack. I’m taking them alone.”

“Alone?” Hedi asked, cocking his head. “But you always say that a lone wolf is a dead wolf.”

“My brother is less likely to be aggressive if it’s just the dragons and me. I refuse to put any more of my pack in danger for this.”

She was putting herself in danger with this? Alika could at least respect how bound Seluk was to her word.

“I guess this is goodbye,” Tarka said to Hedi, his ears drooped.

“Yeah.” The young wolf wagged his tail and nuzzled Tarka’s wing. “I’d wish we’d found each other sooner. We could have been friends longer.”

“That’s okay!” Tarka exclaimed. “We’ll be friends forever, no matter how far apart we are!”

A low snarl came from Seluk’s jaws, and Tarka lowered his head slightly.

“Bye Hedi,” Tarka whispered.

“Bye Tarka,” Hedi said back. “Bye Alika.”

“Goodbye, Hedi.” Alika turned away and stretched her wings. She felt bad for how she’d treated Hedi at first, but she’d been right to be wary, hadn’t she? She’d just wanted to keep Tarka safe, and even if Seluk had kept her word so far, she couldn’t be certain of any other wolves, even pups.

“Hurry!” Seluk snarled, already past the scent-line. “The night is short and bright!”

She was right. One of the Twins was full tonight, the other a half-moon. With the reflection of the rings and no snow that night, the dragons were bathed in twilight as they walked. It was light enough that they’d appear like vague shadows from afar, but not enough to completely obscure them.

The northern edge of the Wulfwoods came closer and closer. The terrain became hilly, the three climbing up a gentle slope, mountains far above them blotting out the rings. Alika lifted her head, staring up at the star-consuming shadows. Fortunately, they wouldn’t have to climb over their peaks: their mother had mentioned finding a pass through them on her travels south. Alika hoped that Seluk knew where she was taking them; Alika certainly couldn’t point out the pass herself.

Eventually, the three came across the smell of wolves. Though Alika didn’t have the best grasp on the distinctions between wolf scents, Seluk seemed agitated, and a howl from behind them made her more so. Alika hoped that the howling was from Seluk’s pack, rather than her brother’s, but no one complained when Seluk began pushing them faster across the treeline.

“I miss Hedi already,” Tarka murmured.

“Yeah,” Alika panted. “It’s okay. When we find our pack, you’ll have all the friends you’d ever want, okay?”

“Quiet!” Seluk snarled. She stopped, positioning her body in the way of Alika and Tarka, who slammed to a halt to avoid running into her.

Seluk held absolutely still, one of her forelegs in the air, and Alika tried her best to do the same. Tarka squirmed, swishing his tail.

Wolves howled from further down the mountainside, the sounds rustling the snow-topped trees.

“They found us,” Seluk murmured. She pointed her snout toward a small outcropping of rock, jutting above the slope. “Hide there. The pass isn’t much further. Keep going along the path I’ve been taking you, and you’ll see it.”

“Are you leaving us?” Tarka asked.

“I said hide!” Seluk growled. “Now!”

Alika nudged Tarka toward the rocks, her ears perking as she heard movement in the trees. She swept her tail as she walked, covering their tracks as quickly as she could.

“Thank you,” Tarka whispered.

Alika saw faint movement in Seluk’s tail. She wasn’t sure what to think. Seluk had killed her mother, and Alika hated her more than Nigel, yet, here Seluk was putting her life at risk for them. Why would she do that? It couldn’t just be honor, could it?

Alika had barely pulled her tail behind the outcropping when six wolves came bounding out from the trees. Seluk’s hackles raised, and she bared her fangs with a low growl. The wolves surrounded her, running around her in a tightening circle.

Seluk snapped her jaws at the largest of the pack, and he jumped away. The circling stopped.

“I thought I smelled your scent drifting near our territory earlier!” the largest of the wolves barked. “I didn’t realize you had the audacity to trespass, alone nonetheless!”

“Stay back, Hapa,” Seluk snarled. She lunged at him, not so close to bite, but close enough that the other wolves made movements to defend him. “I am just passing through. I have no interest in hunting on your territory or making claims on it.”

“And yet, you didn’t parley with me,” Hapa replied. He lunged back at Seluk, biting at her tail. She whisked it out of the way, folding down her ears and snarling. “I’ve smelled no other wolves, but strangely enough, the scent of dragon is all over you today. Are you quite sure you’re not hunting? Dragon or deer, any prey on this land is mine.”

“We had an altercation with Serka,” Seluk replied. “We won.”

Alika scrunched her wings up.

“Did you, now?” Hapa put his snout to the ground. “The light may be faint, and my nose may be old, but I can still see and smell. Two dragon cubs came this way. A meal that you didn’t want to share with your pack? How selfish of you. Show me what you are hiding, and perhaps I will allow you to return to your territory in peace, tail tucked.”

The wolves began howling, and Hapa lunged at Seluk with a snap of his jaws. She rolled through the snow to evade him, but one of the other wolves bit at her side, ripping off a chunk of fur and drawing blood.

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

Tarka let out a tiny squeal.

The wolves instantly turned their heads toward the rocks, their ears perking up in unison.

“Run!” Seluk barked.

Alika immediately leaped out from behind the rock, taking off across the snow as fast as she could, Tarka behind her. Hapa and his pack began sprinting after them not a moment later, leaving Seluk behind. There was no time for planning, no time for deliberation: now, the two just had to run like never before.

The soreness in their legs seemed to fade away, replaced with adrenaline. Their hearts raced as the wolves chased them, howling and jeering. The mountainside bumped up and down, and a single misstep would mean their end. Alika leaped from rock to rock, turning to make sure she was there to defend Tarka if he ever fell. Fortunately, his paws were steady.

A glimpse of Tasien’s rings broke through the peaks of the mountain, shining a ray of beckoning light down on the two. The mountain pass.

“Left!” Alika shouted at Tarka as she skidded, almost falling to her side as she made the sharp turn. He clambered after her, climbing over sharp rocks and loose snow. The narrow gap in the mountains was almost there, but the wolves heard Alika as well, cutting across the path to get even closer.

The rings of Tasien guided their way as if they were a glowing bridge between the two cliffs on either side of the narrow pass. The slopes down each side into the pass were steep, and as soon as Alika got onto one, she began sliding It would have almost been fun, had they not been running for their lives.

The heads of the wolves appeared over the ridge. The height didn’t delay them, and they went straight over. Snow and ice tumbled down after them, sliding into the pass in billowing sheets.

As Alika and Tarka ran further into the pass, the mountains rose higher and higher on either of their sides. The pass seemed to get even narrower, a steep canyon with its base so thin that Alika and Tarka could barely run side by side. The walls were too steep to climb here; there were only two directions: into the mountains, or back toward the wolves. What if Seluk had been wrong, and this was a dead end? Alika began to feel trapped.

The sky had brightened, and it was almost daytime, but Alika doubted that would stop the wolves. Tarka began panting, and Alika could tell he was slowing down. The wolves were closer than ever. The dragons couldn’t keep running forever; eventually, Hapa’s pack would catch up. Alika had to do something.

“Tarka, keep running,” Alika said, her heart pounding. “I’ll hold them off.”

“What?” Tarka squealed. “No!”

They’d made it out of the Wulfwoods, and it would only get warmer as they went further north. If Tarka could learn how to hunt, and his fire developed quickly, perhaps he’d have a chance. If he could survive until he was large enough to fly across the great ocean, then he could find their pack.

Plus, Alika wasn’t just going to give up. There were only six wolves, and the corridor was narrow. If they were all lined up, a single blast of fire could catch them all. Maybe she would be that lucky.

“Just go!” Alika stopped, whipping her tail around as she turned. She lowered her ears, got on her hindlegs, and spread out her wings to make her look as large as she could. Smoke poured out from her nostrils, and as the wolves approached, she let out a blast of flame. Her jaws were filled with bright fire, heat scorching her snout.

It was too soon, and it only caught the wolf in the front. It let out horrendous squeals of pain as its fur caught on fire, stopping in its tracks and rolling in the snow to put it out. The wolf behind it couldn’t stop fast enough, slamming into it as the wolves stopped and turned away.

Hapa leaped over the wolf that Alika had hit, landing in front of her with a growl. Alika held her ground, clenching her chest and trying to summon fire in her belly again as fast as she could. Her claws trembled. She’d missed her chance. She had to stall him long enough to get another one.

“Now why would Seluk be hiding Serka’s cubs?” Hapa cocked his head. His ears lowered, and his jaws opened.

“Stay back!” Alika hissed, swishing her tail menacingly. She let out more smoke. “I’ll burn you to a crisp!”

Hapa stepped back warily, pushing the other wolves further back in the pass. “You’re outnumbered. Two dragon cubs are just a snack for us.”

Suddenly, Hapa lunged forward. Alika tried to blow flame on him, but only a sputtering lick of it came forth. Instead, she slashed her talons and let out a roar like she’d never before.

The sound of it echoed through the canyon, reverberating off the snowy walls as the mountain pass was filled with sound. Hapa’s wolves whimpered and placed their paws over their ears, trying to tune out it, but Alika kept roaring.

As Alika quieted, her roar became a whimper of breath. No fire had come out — she’d been all bark and no bite. Hapa looked at her with a sneer, crouching down and preparing to pounce.

Then, with no explanation, Hapa hesitated. His ears twitched, and he looked up. Alika followed his gaze, confused. A faint, but strange rumbling noise, not that of an animal, reached her ears, and Alika’s fur stood on end. She had the sudden sense that she was in danger.

The snow over the pass was shifting. Just barely visible at first, white clouds began to rise and tumble down the western slope. Alika could smell fear-scent on Hapa.

The wolves turned tail and ran.

“Hah, you showed them!” Tarka shouted. “Stinky wolves, tak—”

“Tarka, run!” Alika commanded, sprinting toward him.

The clouds of snow began to grow, hurtling down the valley at the dragons. They sprinted along the pass as the clouds puffed up, consuming the mountainside. They were running along the pass, but it wasn’t fast enough.

Alika’s heart hammered in her chest. She looked up at the mountain of snow about to side down on top of them. If only they were old enough to fly! They could have gotten above the avalanche.

“Tarka!” she said as the roar of snow approached, getting an idea. “Up the slope!”

“What?” Tarka stared at her, then at the oncoming snow.

“The other slope!” Alika began climbing up the eastern slope of the pass. Her paws sunk deep into the soft snow. They couldn’t outrun the avalanche, but if they got high enough up, maybe they’d survive it.

Tarka began following her lead, placing one paw after the other. The slope was steep, but the snow held together enough that they could climb it. For a moment, it was all Alika could focus on, climbing as fast as she could, knowing that this might be her only chance at survival. The rumble of the avalanche grew into a roar, and at the last moment, Alika tucked in her wings and buried her head deep into the slope to protect it. She held her breath.

The avalanche slammed into the bottom of the pass like a wave, crashing back up the eastern slope and slamming into the dragons. It hit Alika like a chunk of ice, and pain ripped through her back. The world went cold and white, snow piling over her.

For a few moments, Alika was still, dazed by the hit. The snow was in her jaws, surrounding her everywhere. It was quiet.

She began moving her legs, wings, and tail, struggling to dig. The snow had been packed in tight, and it was like trying to swim through rock. Serka had told her that dragons could hold their breath for quite some time to hunt underwater, but Alika had never had a reason to try.

Slowly, she began making her way up, using her claws to push the snow aside. It piled down beneath her, but she’d had plenty of practice making tunnels, albeit in softer snow. Upwards and upwards she went, until finally, her head broke through the surface.

She gasped, panting and taking in as much air as she possibly could. Her body wriggled until she managed to get her forepaws free, using them to hoist herself up on the snow. The thin section of the pass that they’d been in had gotten partially buried, and there was no sign of the wolves anywhere. Whether they’d gotten buried, or they’d escaped, it didn’t matter. Alika doubted they’d come after them again.

The rings frowned down on her, as if disappointed. One of the Twins stared.

“Tarka!” Alika shouted, frantically looking for her brother. He hadn’t surfaced yet. What if he’d slid down the slope? What if he was suffocating right now? He’d been a little bit further down than she’d been, but the terrain was completely unrecognizable. Alika dove into where she thought he might have ended up, and began to dig, her legs sore, her back throbbing. He had to be alright. They’d made it through the Wulfwoods; he couldn’t just die to a bunch of snow. “Tarka! Tarka!”

“Right here!”

Alika whipped around to see Tarka pop out from the same tunnel she’d created. She let out a long sigh of relief, running up and wrapping her wings around him. She used her forepaws to grab his legs, pulling him up and into the open.

The two lay still on the snow. The sun rose above them, the Wulfwoods behind them. Alika was exhausted, so exhausted she could barely move her wings. It felt like all the energy had seeped out from her muscles.

“That was awesome!” Tarka said. “You just roared! The whole mountain, brought down on the wolves! And then we climbed out of an avalanche!”

“It wasn’t exactly planned,” Alika huffed. “But, yeah. I guess it was pretty awesome.”

Tarka suddenly let out a howl, following it up with a rumbling laugh. The end of Alika’s tail thumped on the ground, and she joined him in laughter, her chest aching with each breath. They’d made it through the Wulfwoods. Finally, home was out of sight.