Chapter 1: Winter of '98

London, in the winter of 1998, it was harshly cold for any man alive to go roaming off into the mountains without the proper equipment and experience.

It snowed down hard that no car could make it through its powdery ice, nor icy winds, least if they had snow-chains. The only sources of transportation that was reliable were the snowmobile, train, plane, and the Dog sleigh. The fourth source was the most popular latter out of the four.

Every year, there'd be races to find out which team of Dogs are the fastest runners and are dependable to deliver the mail and supplies from one location to the next.

The competition was fierce and aggressive, each team pushing themselves to see who's the fastest and the best of the runners.

Two packs of sled Dogs were currently trying to outrun and outdo each other, to see who could get past and ahead of the opposing team.

The two lead Dogs on the opposite sides of each other were busting their guts to overtake one another with their own teams following behind them.

The lead Dog of the first was an intimidating looking Malamute, aged 21, with fur color-schemed black and white, and black markings upon his eyes, which were a piercing icey-blue, who had his teeth bared in the form of a sneer as he looked at the brown furred lead Husky, who was presenting a snarl, as they attempted to outstrip the other. He wore a gold collar around his neck.

"Hup! Hyah! Hup!"

"Giddap, boy!"

"Mush! Mush!"

Both mushers on their appropriate teams chanted these commands to their Dogs in the hopes of outpacing the competition in-between two rocky cliff-faces.

The Malamute notices the second squad was getting ahead of them, so he decided to pick up the pace, forcefully dragging his group linked to the gangline along with him.

"Whoa! Heel, boy!" The lead Dog's musher called out, in an attempt to slow him down, while maintaining his balance on his sled.

The two troops were now side by side, but the malamute's bunch was still an inch behind the other's leader.

"Steele!" The lead Dog's second teammate, a light lavender furred Husky, cried out behind him. "We're not gonna make it!"

The Malamute, now known as Steele, only just used his hind leg to kick his team member in the face, giving him the hint to 'just shut up and run'.

Steele was now getting frustrated at the company that was running faster than him, until he took notice of the other group's third Dog, and looked at his paws. He then got an evil idea, his sneer turning into a malicious grin.

He leaned his head down to the level of the third team member's front paws, and snapped his jaws at them, making the Dog yelp and leap in fright, causing him to stumble, and drag the rest of the lineup attached to the gangline to fall behind right along with him, which allowed Steele and his team to pick up speed ahead of them.

The fallen party was now in a heap and disoriented from their tumble as their musher got up to his knees, all riled up.

"STEELE!" He roared as he smashed his fist against the snowy ground in rage.

Steele only smirked while he looked back at the opposing team, feeling proud of what he'd done, before he looked forward as he continued to lead his crew to the city of London and towards the finish line that lay three miles ahead of him.

As Steele's cadre raced on, they passed by a lookout who shot a flare into the sky, reaching the height of Big Ben, which was followed by a crowd cheering.

(V)

"There's the three mile marker!" A youthful, teenaged-sounding voice called out in excitement.

The voice happened to belong to a brown-eyed, black-eared Dalmatian who was wagging his tail rapidly, and watching the whole thing from the balcony of a nearby abandoned two-story apartment.

The Dalmatian was, indeed, Pongo, but he was much younger, and had no collar, signifying that he was a street dog by this point. For those who may find this hard to believe, but he was actually a preteen, only 13 years old, despite having the voice and body height of a teenager, looking about 16.

Beside him, was a Wolf-hybrid, aged 17, who had brown-grey fur with a light brown underbelly going all the up to the bottom-half of his mouth, black ears, as well as light brown dots directly upon both of his eyes, featuring fur-patterned stockings, yellow scleras, dark brown irises, and a scruffy, but straighten tail.

Pongo views him as the Brother he never had, both having grown-up together. Pongo took note of what his Brother was trying to pull up, so he decided to help out.

When they finally pulled it up to the balcony, it was revealed to be a Russian Snow Goose, aged 25, who was trying with little to no success at pulling himself free from the hybrid's mouth while Pongo had to let go of his wing in order to not to be scolded as well.

"Balto! Get your slobbery mouth off me!" The Goose grunted until the wolfdog, now identified as Balto, finally released him, much to the Goose's relief.

"Come on, Boris, let's go and catch the end of the race!" Balto said with enthusiasm.

The bronze-eyed Goose, now known as Boris, grabbed Balto's tail, stopping him in his tracks for a moment.

"Oh, No... No, no, no." Boris implored. "I'm a delicate country bird, No?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Pongo inquired playfully.

Boris sighed.

"I hate going into town…" The Goose creaked.

"Oh, stop being so dramatic, Boris." Pongo teased. "It's not the end of the world when we get there."

"Pongo's right." Balto said in agreement. "What's the worst that could happen?"

Boris sighed, and shook one of his extended feathers as an index finger to say something until Pongo decided to run ahead of Balto.

"Race ya' to the sidelines!" Pongo called out playfully. Balto lunged after the Dalmatian, not wanting to be left behind, dragging Boris along with him.

"WAAAGH!" Boris screamed as he held onto Balto's tail for his dear life.

Balto flicked Boris from his tail for Pongo to catch him and put in a pair of trousers on a clothesline that bridged the gap from the first building to the next.

They both latched on to the line with their jaws, and swung towards a nearby shop. As they both landed on the roof, Balto snagged Boris by the tail and pulled him out of the trousers, and ran up to catch up with Pongo up to the mid-section of the roof.

When they reached it, Balto quickly, but gently flung Boris to his webbed-feet for the Goose to recollect his thoughts and straighten out his mind.

"How do you Boys talk me into these things?" Boris questioned both Canines as he rubbed his tail where Balto held him.

But Boris had forgotten he was on a rooftop, and just as he took a step forward, he slipped and tumbled downwards, before his leg got caught on a moose skull's antlers, and was now hanging upside down.

As he regained his bearing yet again, he glanced to his left and saw lifeless, featherless geese that hung from their feet, ready to be butchered.

Boris immediately realized that he was now at a butcher's shop, and he let out a scream mixed between a gasp. But, before he could get away, a hand grabbed him and swiftly pulled him in.

He was then set down on a cutting board, the man grabbed a hold of his tail and ripped off the feathers from the Goose's bottom. Boris re-grabbed his feathers and put them back on his bare tail, much to the confusion of the butcher.

But just as Boris was about to honk at him, the man took out a cleaver, which the Goose gaped at, instantly making the words die down inside his mouth.

He attempted to flee, but the cleaver's blade slammed in front of the Goose, preventing him from escaping as he was clutched by the legs and was resituated onto the cutting board. The butcher placed his hand on the Goose's stomach to hold him down.

"AAAH!" Boris screamed as he saw the butcher raise his cleaver, ready to cut him.

Boris then espies the blade's shadow aligning with his neck, making him let out a hoarse shriek as he closed his eyes, waiting to meet his unpreventable doom.

But, while Boris had his eyes shut tight, Pongo swiftly, yet carefully seized a soft, yet firm hold of the Goose's head, and promptly dragged Boris through the open window and out of the cleaver's way, just as it made contact to the empty cutting board, leaving the butcher with nothing but a feathered outline on the surface.

(V)

"Bring that back, you thief!" The butcher yelled out the window as he waved his cleaver in the Air.

'Well, excuse me for saving a life, 'murderer'…' Pongo thought with bitter sarcasm, glaring at the man who had just attempted to cut off Boris' head.

He then instantly forgot about his bitterness towards the butcher as he gazed on along with Balto with jouissance at another sled team in the distance that was nearing the city.

He then heard a Goose's honk and was looking around for the source, until Balto pointed it out for him.

"Um… Pongo?" The Dalmatian's Wolfish Brother inquired as he hitched his snout to the Dalmatian's mouth.

Pongo then directed his attention to his muzzle and realized he still had Boris in his mouth.

Both Balto and Pongo laughed at how the Dalmatian had easily forgotten that he still possessed Boris while the said Goose was annoyed at the slobber that Pongo was producing from his laugh, which was currently splashing onto his face.

"Are you going to put me down now, 'Mr. Golden Retriever'?" He grumbled, his voice sounding as if he had a plugged nose.

Pongo gently placed Boris back on his feet, releasing him from his mouth, wincing upon seeing how slobbery the Goose's face was now from the result of his laughter.

"Sorry about that, Boris…" Pongo said sheepishly.

The Goose only shook his head in exasperation as he tried to wipe off as much drool that coated his face as possible.

"Boys… Please tell me…" Boris sighed, flinging Pongo's saliva to his right. "Every time there is a race, you two run around like you're both in it."

"Well, that's the point, Boris." Pongo answered. "And someday we'll both be actually in it."

"He's right." Balto said in agreement. "Just you wait and see."

They both made their way down from the rooftop of the warehouse they were currently on top of by sliding and climbing downwards right onto a pipeline that was connected between the buildings within, acting as a bridge for the two Dogs.

"Heel, Boys!" Both Dogs peered up to the Goose trying to catch up to them.

"Boris Goosinov is no Spring Chicken!" He proclaimed loudly as he slid down the roof, only to fall through an unlocked sky casement, which acted like a trapdoor.

Luckily, the owner of the apartment was out, but he clumsily exited via another window, falling flat on his face onto a platform/rooftop as a pile of snow buried him as a result from the small tremor caused by the goose.

"I'm no Spring Penguin either!" Boris also declared as he got out of the snowdrift, and shook off some of the white powdery ice.

"Hoy! It's cold!" He shivered, chattering as he wrapped his wings around himself, causing him to stop in mid flight before gravity took control, letting out a cry as he fell on his way down.

In sync, both Balto and Pongo lightly catapulted themselves forward using two wooden planks directed towards two conveniently opened windows while Boris landed right onto Balto's back, both boys laughing along the way.

(V)

Just then, another flare was fired into the sky, signifying that the team was nearing the city. "Look! It's the two mile mark!" A man called out, and the crowd went wild once again.

At the same moment, both Balto and Pongo burst through the door with Boris still on the Wolfish Canine's back. The boys glanced over to their right to see the flare in the blue yonder above.

"Come on…" Balto panted as he was catching his breath. "We don't want to miss the finish."

"Oh… that would be a tragedy!" Boris said sarcastically as he placed himself down onto the ground beside the scruffy Wolfdog.

"Oh, don't be sarcastic, Boris!" Pongo said in a joshing tone. "We wouldn't miss this for the world!"

"You should know Pongo's always right." Balto spoke with enthusiasm. Just as Boris was going to vocalize his thoughts, Pongo dashed around the two individuals.

"Head start!" The Dalmatian swiftly ran ahead of both the Goose and Wolfdog to join the crowd on the sidelines.

"Hey! No fair!" Balto laughed as he jumped after his Brother-in-paws, causing Boris to cry out, spinning rapidly like a top before turning into a drill as spun-dug himself a hole into the snow covered Earth.

"Why do I put up with those two?" The Goose in the hole asked himself tiredly.

(V)

Meanwhile, in a nearby workshop, a handyman, aged 61, was just giving a brand new Dog sleigh some finishing touches as he sanded it.

A family was patiently waiting for him to complete the sled, with the exception of a little girl, aged 8, who had her eyes closed, and was jumping up and down in excitement.

She had red hair that was done up in a ponytail while both her eyes were closed.

"Oh, boy, Oh, boy!" She said in pure joy. "Where's the surprise? Where's the surprise?"

"Now, now, Rosy…" The other girl, her elder Sister, aged 21, told her nonchalantly, yet playfully. "Just be patient."

She had strawberry-blonde hair, which was done-up in a braided ponytail that hung to the side of her right shoulder, with blue-green eyes and a smile filled with warmth.

"Aw, come on, Anita… I want to see it now…" The little girl, now known as Rosy, dawdled out to her older Sister, Anita, while feigning sadness in her voice and pouting, making her Sister chuckle.

"Just wait a little longer, Sweetie. It's just about done." Her Mother, 43, told her warmly.

She had green eyes, and short hair which was the same shade of strawberry-blonde that Anita inherited, also donning a warm smile of her own. This explanation made Rosy bounce up and down even more, an adorable smile gracing her face.

Then, the handyman stopped sanding the sled, took a look over it, and smiled in satisfaction at his completed handiwork.

"It's finished now, Mr. Radcliffe. No charge guaranteed." He said kindly to the father of the family.

"Thank you, Mr. Johansson…" Mr. Radcliffe, 45, said thankfully. "It's beautiful…"

"What's beautiful?" Rosy asked, eyes still closed.

Mr. Radcliffe only looked at his youngest Daughter, who inherited his red hair, with his lighthearted blue-green eyes, which matched Anita's, and smiled merrily, before he directed his attention to both his Wife and eldest Daughter, and nodded.

They both nodded back, and Anita crouched down to Rosy's level, placing both of her hands on the little girl's shoulders, and whispered into her ear.

"You can open your eyes now." She spoke softly.

Rosy then opened her green eyes, and her expression lit-up to even more childlike joy as she laid her sights on the sleigh in front of her.

"Wow!" She gushed, completely overjoyed. "A new dog sleigh! There's even a brush-bow and runners for it!"

"Well, Rosy, it seems you like it already." Mrs. Radcliffe said.

"Like it? I love it! It's so beautiful!" The young girl answered in pure happiness. Both her Parents and Sister could only smile with even more warmth at the little one's exuberance.

"Thank you! Thank you!" Rosy cheered out, who then hugged her Mother, Father, Sister, and Mr. Johansson, who just chuckled and patted her head.

"I got to show this to the girls!" The little girl said, but just before she was about to run out, Anita placed her hand on Rosy's shoulder to stop her.

"Ah, ah, ah… Wait a minute now, Rosy. You just need one more thing before you go out with your new sled." Anita said whimsically.

Rosy was confused at first, but soon got her answer when her big Sister took out a musher's cap from her bag and presented it to her.

"Wowie! A real musher's hat!" Rosy exclaimed with zest. "Are you giving it to me?"

"That's correct, Rosy." Anita told her playfully. "It's yours now." Rosy gently took the hat from her Sister's grasp, and put it on her head. It was a perfect fit.

"Thank you, big Sis'!" Rosy squealed in delight as she hugged Anita again before she rushed out of the workshop's door, her family following after the child, her Father carrying the sleigh.

"I believe that hat was once yours." Mr. Radcliffe said warmly to his eldest Daughter.

"It was, but I felt it was needed for the next generation." Anita spoke truthfully and passionately as she watched her little Sister call out to something or someone.

(V)

"Jenna! Perdita! Here girls!" Rosy sang out.

After she chanted out those two names, two Dogs rushed out from the corner of a building, and towards the little girl with excitement.

One was a pretty Husky with the color schemes of red and white fur, a fluffy curled tail, and beautiful light brown eyes. She wore a red-orange bandana that hung from her neck and across her chest.

The other was a Dalmatian with four sets of spots, two on each of her ears, and had lovely blue eyes. She wore a blue collar with a name tag.

The Husky's name was Jenna and the Dalmatian's was Perdita. Jenna was aged 17, while Perdita was 13, despite having the body-height of a teenage Dog.

For some who are wondering about their appropriate owners, Jenna belonged to Anita while Perdita was owned by Rosy, but both sisters usually shared their ownership of the two Canines, while both Dogs give both their humans equal love and attention.

Both barked happily as they ran to the girl, and began nuzzling and licking her face, making Rosy giggle.

"I got a surprise for you two." She informed the two, and both Dogs gave her their full attention, wondering what the surprise was. They didn't have to wait long.

"Ta-da~!" Rosy chorused out as she stepped out of the way to present her sled hooked onto two harnesses, ready and waiting for both of them. Both Dogs immediately started to wag their tails at the new sled that the youngest family member now had.

They were both linked into their harnesses by Rosy as the eight year old got ready behind the sleigh. "Come on, girls! You're both the lead dogs!" Rosy said to the Husky and Dalmatian happily, before directing her attention to her parents

"Hey, Mom, Dad! Watch this!" She called out.

"Mush!"

Both Jenna and Perdita were more than happy to oblige to Rosy's cheerful command. With that, they both raced on ahead, pulling the sled along with Rosy at the helm.

"Woo!" The little girl couldn't help but squeal in delight as she was now riding her new sleigh with her favorite best friends pulling it.

"Maybe we should have got her a dollhouse." Mr. Radcliffe said jokingly.

"Oh, Father… you know Rosy isn't like most little girls." Anita joined in playfully.

"She's right, Andrew." Mrs. Radcliffe added. "She loves the thrill of dog sledding just like you used to."

Mr. Radcliffe only smiled fondly at his wife's words, reminiscing about the days when he was around Rosy's age, excited to become a musher, and his career as one before he met Ms. Radcliffe and started a family with her.

"That I know, Melanie. That I know." Andrew Radcliffe said to his Wife sentimentally as he looked on at his youngest Daughter, still riding the sleigh that was being pulled by his Daughters' dogs.

The rest of the Radcliffes decided to catch up to the enthusiastic little child before she strayed away too far.

(V)

And so that about wraps up the first chapter of this crossover. As you can see, I created my own version of Rosy's parents' names, and made Anita their eldest daughter and Rosy's big sister. I don't own ANYTHING.

P.S. You will get to meet a new character as well as a surprise character in the next few chapters.