As Socks ran, Dirt’s sense of speed was incredible. They flew over the ferns almost like birds. Dirt gripped ever tighter, but truly, he felt no danger. Just a rush of wind, the scenery flying past faster than he could imagine, and the sensation of sheer muscular physicality beneath him. Socks was beyond strong. Soft, puffy fur, skin tender from a thin layer of baby fat and beneath all that, muscles longer than Dirt was tall, flexing in perfect rhythmic balance.

It hardly seemed a moment before Socks slowed to a stop under Home’s lofty branches and knelt to let Dirt slide off. Dirt’s body felt much heavier after that, graceless and awkward as he regained his feet. It left him with a sense of yearning that almost distracted him from the throbbing pain in his face.

-Good, now stand still for a moment,- said Socks. -I want to lick your blood.-

Dirt obliged, and the giant wolf pup leaned his great snout down to Dirt’s leg, sniffed at the cut, and began licking it clean. Dirt expected the tongue to be rough, but it was smooth and careful, and after a few good licks, Dirt had a single clean area on his body, half the length of his thigh. The blood stopped coming out so fast now, or maybe it had earlier. It was hard to tell, but it pooled instead of dripping.

Socks licked it again, doing his best to get his tongue in there to clean it out. It stung, and beside that, something about it was profoundly uncomfortable, but what was Dirt going to do? Complain?

Only a few more licks and Socks said, -There. It should be better soon. I don’t think licking your face will help because you aren’t bleeding there. I can ask Mother later.-

“Thanks. I think it helped a little, so you can stop now.”

Socks rolled onto his side and gestured with his paws, welcoming Dirt to climb on and relax. There was a lot of animal there, so picking the perfect spot wasn’t easy. Dirt opted to snuggle in between the beast’s front legs, with his head under Socks’ chin. The pup draped a front leg over him, and that was that.

It was warm, warmer than Dirt had ever been, and he quickly fell into a comfortable reverie. A few moments ago he’d been cursing the fact that he was alive, but that was fading now. His terror melted away, leaving him feeling drained and loose inside.

-Show me the fight. I want to see what happened,- said Socks.

Dirt considered for a moment, wondering how that would work. He pictured the birds first, coming down from the heights. He pictured it as hard and clear as he could, pushing the image to the front of his mind. “There, can you see that?”

-Yes, but it’s loud. You don’t have to be so loud.-

“Okay. Let me know if I start… letting it slip.”

He brought the image back and pushed it forward, first the little birds darting around in great numbers, then the bird-beast, all claws and feathers and anger, and how the little birds were driving it to the ground.

Dirt showed his realization that he was in danger, showed himself trying to run away but getting tripped, then chased, then caught. He realized that the bird-beast had given him the cut on his leg—it had just barely nicked him with a talon when it leaped off him. He’d felt the snag, but not the pain.

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He couldn’t remember exactly what happened after that—his mind had been too full of terror to make sense of anything. But he remembered being punched in the face and how the blow was too much for his child’s body. And getting punched again. Waking up seeped in pain, unsure and unstable, trying to stumble away until Socks found him.

-I wondered what it was like to be so tiny and weak. That was very interesting. I will tell my siblings.-

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to survive, if there are things like that everywhere.”

-The goblins wanted to eat the gryphon. They were attracted by all the commotion, since it started all the way up. Just stay away from noisy places and you’ll probably be fine,- said Socks.

“A gryphon? Is that what the big one is called?”

-Yes. Mother says they like the mountains, but sometimes they can be seen elsewhere. I doubt you’ll find another one. And goblins are not very smart. They are not even as smart as a human. They just go toward noisy things because they are hungry.”

“But they could talk.”

-They do not understand the words. It is only sounds to them.-

“So all I have to do is be quiet, and I won’t get eaten?”

-Well, that is one thing you have to do.-

The great pup didn’t seem particularly affected by Dirt’s plight, and he was starting to feel disregarded. A novelty instead of a person. A curiosity, enjoyed and then discarded. It was better than nothing, he thought to himself, with a hint of bitterness.

But Socks said, -Don’t be sad, little human. Little Dirt. Come, join me in the dream. Let’s go to sleep and you’ll feel better.-

“Okay. I bet you’re right,” thought Dirt. He retreated into his thoughts, enjoying the feeling of the great pup’s fur, the feeling of softness and warmth and life. The pup’s faint smell, hard to identify but not unpleasant.

The pup’s breathing settled into an even rhythm, and Dirt guessed that Socks had fallen asleep. The only thing keeping Dirt awake now was the searing, throbbing pain in his face, pain that made him hold as still as possible. But exhaustion was fighting to win and he relaxed further, comforted, enveloped in Socks’ warm embrace. He snuggled in a bit deeper.

Some part of him knew this was only temporary, that his injuries would take a long time to heal, that Socks would have to leave him alone again soon. But he pushed those thoughts away and tried to make the nagging knot of dread in his heart come undone and vanish.

He should keep on living. He could feel that, even if he couldn’t look around at how things were going and explain why. One thing at a time. Courage, Dirt. Take courage. And a nap.

Dirt slept easily and comfortably after that, and when he woke, his mind was filled with a tangled mess of colors and smells and emotions that collapsed as soon as he became aware of them. They left behind a lingering sense of loss, like something beautiful was gone, and Dirt knew he had dreamed. He wished he could remember what had happened in it.

-Why do you dream like that?- asked Socks.

It took Dirt a moment to realize that Socks was really here and had actually spoken. His bed in the pup’s fur was too perfect and felt like nothing at all. “Dream like what? I think that was my second dream and I already forgot it.”

-I was waiting for you to come, and then when you did, you were like this,- replied Socks. He sent a mental image of a flurry of disconnected parts and pieces all swarming in a cloud, tiny bits of color, incomplete shapes of flesh. The swirling thing spoke with Dirt’s voice, though, and laughed as he and Socks flew into a blue sky, across red mountains and black valleys, green meadows with flowers of unnamed colors.

Others were there, too, other wolf pups like Socks. They danced together, and snarled and played and flew—

And then the vision was gone. -Why did you look like that? Is that how humans are?-

“I have no idea,” said Dirt.

-I will have to ask Mother. I think there is something wrong with you. You might be broken.-

Dirt agreed, but he didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. They lay for a short while longer, and then Socks had to go.

-Stay out of danger, little human. Little Dirt. Good bye.-

“Good bye, Socks. Thank you for saving me.”

Dirt got a lump in his throat that burned and ached as he watched Socks slide effortlessly into a run. It didn’t fade for quite a while.