Suddenly, a big gust of wind tore through the air around them, sending up a flurry of snowflakes that swirled and danced around them. The sky above crackled and rumbled, growing darker in the western horizon, fast approaching them.

Frostpaw took notice, his playful demeanor instantly being replaced by a serious tension. He sniffed, snow falling faster on his snout now. “Blizzard,” he said flatly. “We’ll need to find shelter as soon as possible. We shouldn’t be caught in it.”

Balto perked up his ears. “Oh… are blizzards very dangerous up here?”

“Very. Sometimes you can’t even see the paw in front of your face.”

The white fox led the way, hopping through the powder. The smoky blue husky followed close behind, frolicking over the snow, leaving big dog-shaped ditches in his wake.

They made their way up a steep hill on an island in the middle of the frozen river. The landscape was dotted by big timber trees and towering boulders, as well as rock walls.

Balto could feel the ground shift from dirt and dead grass underneath the snow to hard stone. Around them was a splendid view of the treetops, as they were high up and could see from a decent height. “Will these rocks keep us sheltered from the storm?” he asked.

Frostpaw flicked his tail, trotting to a dark outcropping. “Nope. I have found something better, look!”

The husky trotted to catch up with Frostpaw, and saw that the outcropping was actually a dark, warm cave. “Perfect. Good job,” he praised the fox. “It’s like you knew it was here.”

“I did,” the fox responded, making his way into the warm embrace of the shelter, looking over his shoulder back at Balto. “I’ve been around a lot. I’ve used this den many times. Sometimes even a place to rear kits…”

Frostpaw’s voice trailed off and his eyes glazed over as if he was deep in thought about something. Something gloomy seemed to strike around the white fox, a heaviness like a sodden black cloud, and Balto instantly understood.

He’d learned that arctic foxes mate for life while talking to Frostpaw during their journey; this was the first he had heard of Frostpaw rearing kits with a female, so if that girl was no longer around then it was obvious what had happened.

Balto would not pry.

Shaking his head quickly and moving on, Frostpaw changed the subject. “Will this do for your fuzzy butt?” he asked, forcing a half-smile.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

"I think this will do just fine," Balto said, scanning the interior of the cave. The wind was not reaching them, and they were very warm already.

The smoky blue dog curled up in a ball and relaxed, his muscles aching and tight from their playing, and from their trek up the terrain to the cave. Frostpaw came up to him soon after and snuggled up like a sphere of cloud, squeaking in comfort.

The fox was normally full of energy and enjoyed constantly running around and doing things, but right now he was spent.

The two friends rested for a little while, hidden from the outside world.

Low growling drew Balto out of his peaceful slumber. At first he thought it was the storm picking up, but soon realized that the threatening guttural sounds belonged to a group of huge, thick-pelted gray dogs.

Frostpaw whipped his head up and glared at the visitors, his body tensing up like a stone.

Balto flattened his ears and lowered his head, avoiding eye contact with the dogs at the entrance of the cave. “We mean no harm. Is this your home?” He asked carefully, exuding a warm, friendly vibe.

Frostpaw sniffed quietly. “Balto, I don't think these wolves will care about diplomacy.”

‘Are these wolves?’ the husky wondered. He didn't fully understand what they were, but something in his blood told him that he knew. Balto's ancestral genes whispered at the back of his mind, telling him that this species was a part of him, but only very distantly.

Instinct took over and he fell at their paws, tail tucked between his legs and his soft belly on display. His arctic fox friend slowly backed away into the darkness.

A male wolf moved closer to him to investigate, his nose still curled upward to show his white fangs. In a moment, before Balto could react, the wolf gaped open his mouth and sunk his sharp teeth into his front right leg, shaking him, then leaping back.

The other wolves yowled and snarled behind the male.

Balto whined and let out a pained gasp, struggling away. He backed his rear up against the interior cave wall, the rocks feeling cold on his behind. The wolf pack advanced slowly, attempting to surround and corner him.

His sides heaved in growing fear, his body releasing adrenaline to help him navigate the situation; everything slowed down, and, keeping calm, the husky weighed his options.

Beside him was a trembling Frostpaw, and just beyond the fox, to their left, was a gap in the cave wall that Balto could slip through upon grabbing his friend by the nape of the neck. It was possible that he could run fast enough downhill, away from the dangerous beasts that lived near the Delta Islands.

‘But my leg…’ he remembered. Most of the pain was numbed by surging ‘fight or flight’ responses firing in his system, but it was most definitely fractured or broken.

Would Balto still make it if he tried running?

“We have to jump,” Frostpaw declared.

“What?!” Balto exclaimed in shock at the insanity of the idea.

“You heard me! Outside, to the left. Cliff. Take me with you. Jump.”

Balto's heart pounded and his breathing increased rapidly but soon he found himself with a warm, white fluff in his mouth, scrambling through the gap. All this happened in an instant, because the husky acted before his brain could process that he had even moved a paw.