Early October

Kyra kept pace with the grown-ups, bursting out of the foliage onto the bank of a tributary from the main river.

Blood spattered the earth as three coyotes overwhelmed a greyhound. His glossy fur was slick with his blood.

Dog snarls cracked in the air next to Kyra's ears. Lilah and the soldiers rushed the coyotes, just to scare them, with no intention of actually attacking — yet. The coyotes sprang away with hackles a-bristle. As they fled, one bitch looked briefly over her shoulder at Kyra.

Kyra felt frozen to the spot by the menacing golden eyes, so full of venom she feared she would die on the spot.

Lilah rushed the bitch again, and this time she was gone for good.

The greyhound exhaled dramatically as he sat and licked himself.

No such relief for him. Drake glared at him, stiff-legged. "Who are you? Do you have a pack affiliation?"

The greyhound hunkered down as much as his injuries would allow. "I'm a disperser, leaving my family to mate."

The male soldiers howled with laughter. "So you went and got yourself torn apart? Is that what stands out on the mating scene?"

Drake snarled. "Quiet!"

"You seem awfully young to be looking for mates already," Lilah said.

Wincing as he shifted his weight, the dog replied, "Ten moons is not so young that I can't fend for myself alone. I didn't expect to find dogs so soon."

"That would mean he was born at the start of the coldest season," a soldier offered. "He can't be that weak."

Kyra looked more carefully at the disperser: a dark gray pelt speckled with black; long legs and shoulders with lean muscles; a thin, whiplike tail; a ridiculously deep chest. His round eyes darted from dog to dog until they rested on her. She looked away, prickling self-consciously.

Drake's posture was rigid with suspicion. "Have you undergone formal training?"

The disperser did not meet Drake's eyes, keeping his head low. "I have learnt as my parents saw fit, nothing more. I am willing to demonstrate my skills before your leader."

A soldier shifted her paws. "We can't just appoint a journeydog without a formal apprenticeship. It wouldn't be right, would it?"

"Hush," Lilah woofed. "Our pack is no stranger to new blood." She turned to Drake. "I don't see any harm in taking him to Sterling. He can't be planning to trap us — we've too many dogs. And if he is a spy" — she bared wickedly sharp fangs — "he and his folk will rue the day."

Drake hesitated before giving the disperser a reluctant nod. "We'll see how well he hunts." He relaxed, and all the soldiers lowered their hackles. "What did your natal pack call you?"

"Marlon," answered the young dog, sitting up and looking directly at Drake. "My name was Marlon then and still is now."

They brought Marlon back home with them. Drake led the dogs, as highest ranking, and Kyra, as his charge, had to walk with her muzzle aligned to his shoulder. Marlon was surrounded and she knew her tail kept brushing his forelegs.

Sterling was quick to notice the newcomer when they arrived. A thrill of apprehension ran through Kyra as the grim-faced bitch stalked over.

i might take this down since i have a life now and am never on here anymore