17.

"There she is Simpson, just like new." The bartender spoke. They stood outside a shed, a sled stood between the two men. Mr. Simpson stuck out his hand, the other man grabbed it, and the musher spoke. "Thanks for the sled here, it's been a pleasure."

"Just doing my job Simpson, make sure you bring that sled back in one piece, Seppala would be fumed if you didn't." The bartender said.

"Don't worry," he began, "I'll make sure not to cross his path."

With that, they retracted their hands. The bartender walked to the backdoor of the tavern, he waved his hand to the musher, who returned the gesture. Mr. Simpson pursed his lips, he whistled and the dogs came to him. As they moved to their places, the musher fastened the harnesses. He walked up to Jenna, who'd taken the position of swing dog. He smiled and scratched her mane. "I'll be puttin' my trust in ya girl. Keep up as best you can."

With that, he tightened her harness and moved up to the lead dogs, Kodi and Balto. He kneeled next to Kodi. "You weren't supposed to be the lead dog, I believed you couldn't do it."

He brushed his hand along the Husky's back. "Prove me wrong."

Kodi smiled and eyes narrowed. "We got this dad, this is all ours."

"Just remember to pace yourself son, we have a long ways to go," Balto said. He turned his head toward Kodi, who nodded.

Someone came out of the tavern, it was Star; the torn sleeve had been replaced by a bandage. He approached the team. "Good luck boss! Watch your tails out there, ok?"

"Luck!" Jenna exclaimed. "We don't need luck, we've got Balto."

"Yessir we do!" Kirby stood harnessed next to Jenna. "With Balto here, ain't nothin' that can stop us!"

"Well, just keep your ears up and eyes open, I would want ya'lls to end up like me," Star said. He peered down at his bandage, then picked his head up and smiled. The musher stood at the back of the sled and gripped the handle. He took a breath then ground his teeth and spoke. "Hike!"

Then, they were off.

Kyle clutched a paper bag in his hand, and strolled into Richardson's backyard. Clouds were few in the sky, the day was grey; the sun was setting, yet the sky was dull. He strolled passed his shed, approaching the woods. A voice stopped him. "Hey there Shames. You've been leavin' for the woods a lot lately, what've you been doing there?"

"Oh- Richardson, umm… just scouting out the land. I'm lookin' to build a cabin there." Kyle said.

"Just be careful in there, rumor has it that the wolves live in them' woods. Watch out- those creatures are unruly beasts," he said.

He came to Kyle, who spoke. "I will."

Mr. Richardson placed his hands on his hips. "You could borrow my rifle if you like. It's the Springfield model, so you should be familiar with it."

Kyle shook his head. "Thanks for the offer, but there's no need, I've been out there many times. Trust me; the wolf pack doesn't live out there."

Mr. Richardson nodded. "Well, take my rifle just in case."

Kyle went to protest, but Mr. Richardson had already gone to fetch it. He sighed, standing there for a moment. He emerged from his house, carrying the rifle. He passed it to Kyle, who took it by the body. Kyle let down his bag, accepting the extra rounds the older man put in his hand. He placed them in his pocket and picked his bag back up.

"Thank you," he said. Mr. Richardson waved it off. "It's nothing, just watch yourself out there."

He scratched the back of his neck. "Have you by any chance seen Jenna? She's been gone for a few days, we're starting to worry."

Kyle bit his lip then went on. "No. I haven't, I'll certainly keep an eye out though."

He looked towards the forest. "I should be off now, only got a bit of light left, I hope to use it."

Kyle began towards the forest, carrying the rifle across his shoulder, Mr. Richardson spoke. "You're right Shames. Good luck out there, stay safe!"

With that, Mr. Richardson turned back to his house. It was only a short walk until Kyle had entered the forest. He passed into the tree line; the arctic sunset was soon to disappear. He looked toward the sun for a moment; he closed his eyes and let the scents of the forest flow through his nostrils. Kyle opened his eyes, and took the rifle off his shoulder, examining it for a moment. He huffed, then threw it into the snow, he pulled the extra rounds from his pocket and tossed them on the weapon. He looked to the forest and kept moving.

He emerged at an outcropping; a small field was placed within the forest. He walked out to the center. There were tracks, those of man, and those of beast, united. There, Kyle sat, his eyes shifted towards the sunset. Something was approaching, Kyle heard a whimper. Turning to his left, Aleu, seeing that her back was adorned with blood, teeth marks scarcely visible. Kyle dropped his bag, he ran to Aleu, arms loose by his sides.

"Oh no!" Kyle cried. "What happened girl?"

Aleu slouched over, she lay down carefully. "If it wasn't for Kila- for my selfish mistake. I'm such a stupid wolf."

Kyle sat next to her, he spoke, "If there's anything you need to say- you can tell me girl. What's wrong?"

"It was Kila- my beta, my friend. She committed treason against my authority, she utilized our friendship."

Her ears flattened, "I demoted her to omega instead of killing her, I was going to let her have her position back in time. I thought she just needed some time to think about her actions."

"It turns out she didn't- by demoting her it destroyed her. She deserted, but not without attacking me." Aleu paused. "She nearly had me, but my one of my other betas saved me."

"In a desperate attempt to run, sh-she," Aleu paused, tears sweltered at her eyes, "threw herself off a cliff- and now she's dead, and it's all my fault."

A few tears dribbled down her face, she stared across the field, into the dark forest. Kyle looked down; he rested his chin against the palm of his hand.

"Girl," Kyle began, "In times of pain- I think of my friends, what they would do."

"That wound will leave a scar, don't let that scar cause any more pain than it already has done," Kyle said, he fainted a smile to Aleu. She picked up her head and returned the gesture. Kyle rested his hands on his legs, "Girl, why don't I tell you a happy story today? Brighten the mood a bit?"

Aleu's tail shook. "Yeah, that would be nice."

"Oh! I almost forgot."

He opened his bag, pulling out a piece of pork. He dropped it in front of Aleu. "There you go girl, a full stomach ought to make you feel better."

Aleu happily tore and chewed the raw meat. Kyle smiled and took the indication. "After months of warfare, we were finally given leave, we headed for Paris."

"Out of the trenches and into the city! How much better can this get?" Oliver said. Eric nodded and smiled wide. "Only a few beers better. Come on! Let's head to the pub."

The lights were bright and spirits high. To their left and right, tall buildings, shops which smelled of paper and others of pastry. Cars bustled along the street and trams scurried through the masses. People walked along the sidewalks and others darted in between cars. Kyle chased after his friends, squeezing in between the bustling city. His friends turned into the bar, Kyle watched the door close behind them; he stopped at the entrance, opening the door.

As he entered, the sticky odor of alcohol sweltered in the atmosphere. The air was hazy with cigarette smoke. French men peered through their top hats, momentarily disconnecting themselves from their game of Mille Bornes. At the bar stood Eric and Oliver, the barman handed both a beer. Eric and Oliver laughed as they took their first swig.

Eric turned and saw Kyle. "Hey Kyle!" He started. "Get yourself a beer. It's on the navy!"

Kyle shook his head, clutching his nose. "No thank you. I've never been one for alcohol."

Oliver set his beer down, he looked to Kyle. "You ok there buddy? Somethin' got your nose?"

Kyle shook his head. "No- it's just that this bar smells different from the other ones."

Eric and Oliver stood silent for a moment, Eric snorted, Oliver slowly beamed. They burst out laughing. "Kyle! You crack me up." Oliver said. Kyle continued to clench his nose and shook his head. They kept on for a moment, and soon Eric regained his composer and spoke. "Oh, Kyle- it's probably just your shoulder talkin' to you again."

Oliver grabbed his beer and dangled it in front of Kyle. "Maybe a bit of brandy to warm you up? That should solve the problem."

Kyle's nose adjusted to the thick scents of the room, he let go of his nose. "No- I should be fine, really."

"Awww, come on Kyle, just have a sip-a-my beer," Oliver said. He pushed it into Kyle's hand and he sighed. Kyle took a quick swig and gave it back to Oliver, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Yeah Kyle!" Eric started. "That'll warm you right up."

They sat at the bar; Kyle had no further drinks. They talked and talked, speaking of their training and the memories they shared. One beer turned into two, two beers turned into three, Kyle stopped Eric from getting his fourth. He hopped off the bar seat and pouted. "If I don't get me a beer, I'll be sleepin' on de deck tonight."

Eric's legs wobbled beneath him. "Woah! The sleas wubbly, better watch out fur dose breakers!"

Oliver imitated him. "Yeap! When I get off dis boat my legs ll' be shakin', just like the sea!"

Heads began to turn toward the soldiers; Kyle rested his hands on Eric's and Oliver's shoulders. "Come on, let's bring the ship into port. What do you say? Let's hit the hay."

Kyle carefully led the two out of the bar. Kyle's friends staggered down the street towards the place the men were staying. He led them up the stairs and helped them to their cots. He got to his own, making sure to stay awake until both had fallen asleep.

He awoke to the sound of vomiting men, the smell of alcohol drifted on the air.

A voice spoke. "Next time *gag* remind me to take smaller swigs."

Another one replied. "I swear the devil's *cough* filled my stomach with lead."

"Aw man. Just look at it- it's all yellow and pebbly."

"Naw, that's just yours, mine's all dribbly."

"Naw, your still drunk Oliver."

"No- youse r' drunk."

"I am not drunk!"

Kyle stood at the opening of the bathroom. Eric and Oliver had their heads above the toilet, yellow puke coated the edges of their mouths. He cleared his throat, Eric and Oliver turned their heads towards Kyle.

Eric went to speak; Kyle spoke before him. "Save it- you both look stupid. Right now, you are stupid. Clean yourselves up and stop arguing about who's drunk."

As he left the doorway, the two stood up. Oliver spoke. "Ok mom."

Kyle gritted his teeth and growled at them. "I am not your mother! I don't want to act like one."

He stormed out of the room, clattering down the stairs. Eric and Oliver looked at each other.

"Did he just-"

"-either that, or we're seriously drunk."

"Woah!" The musher said. The dogs came to a halt, they breathed heavily, Jenna collapsed onto her stomach, wheezing. Balto slipped out of his harness and lowered his head to Jenna's. "Jenna! Are you alright?"

Through rapid breaths, she nodded. Her tongue shot in and out of her mouth like lightning. Balto licked her face and spoke. "You did great, Honey, you gave your all. I'm so proud of you."

Kodi slipped from his harness and came to his mother. "Dad's right. Most first-timers would drop after only an hour, you kept pace. That's something to be proud of."

Jenna picked herself up and smiled through her labored breaths. "I guess that I did do pretty good."

Mr. Simpson walked up to Jenna; he brushed his hand over her. "You did great Jenna, you would've made an amazing sled dog."

He walked back to his sled and pulled out a canteen, he brought it back over to Jenna and poured a little water into his hand. She lapped up the water and Simpson poured a little more. He smiled and stood, looking toward the tavern which stood before him. A gentle breeze blew over his shoulder; he looked to Balto and tipped his hat. "Keep an eye on the team while I'm gone, you got it boy?"

Balto barked, Mr. Simpson smirked and walked toward the tavern. As he approached the tavern, he heard the barking of dogs around back. 'Sounds like a lot of them, looks like the bar ll' be full.'

The musher walked through the tavern door, he stomped his boots and looked up. Upon him, the eyes of other mushers scrutinized every move of Mr. Simpson. He blinked, frozen by the doorway, the bartender spoke, "I assume you run the mail, seeing your bag and all."

Mr. Simpson broke off his hiatus, turning towards the barman. "Oh- yes, I do."

The bartender looked out the window. "You know you shouldn't run your dogs like that."

"Like what?" He asked. The bartender kept his gaze. "The red one, she can barely keep it up."

"Oh," he scratched the back of his head, "the red one."

He paused for a moment, then spoke. "She's new on the team, first run."

The bartender nodded. "Alright, I'll take your word for it."

He turned his head toward Mr. Simpson, "So I take you're not from around here, the fellas know when there's a newcomer."

"Yep, extended trip. I got a big package for the mail." Mr. Simpson made his way down the counter and the barman followed, stopping at the telegram.

"Who am I sending the notice to?" The barman asked.

"Nome." The musher replied.

The barman turned to the machine; he went to work on the telegram. While he was at it, the man spoke. "If you're taken' an extended trip, I'd watch for the week comin'. There's a storm heddin' up our way."

Mr. Simpson looked out the window, watching the flakes of snow slowly fall. His eyes narrowed and he frowned. 'That storm better be thicker than a barrel-a-whiskey.'

The wolf walked under the cover of night, concealing himself beneath the trees and sneaking along the snowdrifts. He was following a set of footprints, he gave them a certain distance, just enough so that the owner might not notice his presence. He walked to the beginning of a small field; it was surrounded by forest on all sides and only lit by the moon's dim light. He perked up his ears, looking left and right. Then, satisfied with the secrecy of his presence, he focused on two figures. The man sat next to the wolf, who was chewing on a piece of meat, his keen ears twitched at their converse.

"And then Eric was like 'No, you're still drunk' and Oliver was like 'No- you're drunk'. They sounded so swoony and odd!"

The wolf laughed and the man went on. "And then- I walked in and saw them. They had puke dribbling down the sides of their mouths- oh how stupid they looked."

"I am never going anywhere near that beer stuff- being drunk sounds sooo embarrassing." The wolf said.

"So then I was like 'Guys- you look stupid, and you are stupid. Clean yourselves up and stop arguing.' And then Oliver said 'Ok mom' and I was on fire, so I-I." The man paused for a moment, and then continued, "Anyway I got really mad and said 'I am not your mother!' and left the room."

The man sighed. "Girl, take my advice and never go near a thing a beer, you got it?"

The wolf nodded and wagged her tail, she scarfed down the last of her meat. "Oh I never would- that stuff sounds worse than rotten caribou liver!"

The two laughed under the moonlight, the man fell onto his back, looking up towards the moon.

"Those were the days," the man said. They lay in silence for a moment, the man sighed and stood.

"Well girl," he began, "It's best if I get home, I got a long day tomorrow."

The wolf groaned, the man spoke. "Well, you can walk to the tree line with me."

Her tail wagged and the man began to walk, the wolf that hid among the bushes followed. The two made their way back into the forest, the man made a snowball. "You ready girl? You think you can catch this one?"

The wolf's tail wagged, the man launched the snowball in the air, the wolf limped toward the projectile which fell in front of her. The man laughed, "Ok, here's another one comin' at ya! Ready?"

He launched another into the air, it went up and fell in front of the wolf, she licked what remained. The spectacle continued for quite some time, the wolf among the trees smirked, 'At least she's happy' he thought. Then, the two reached the tree line. The man stopped throwing the snowballs and sighed. "Well girl, I guess this is where we part ways."

The wolf groaned. "We seriously don't get enough time together."

"Don't worry girl, I'll be back tomorrow. Alright?" The man said.

The wolf nodded. "Ok I'll be waiting."

The wolf among the trees moved in closer, his ears raised high. Then, he stepped on a branch; the sound echoed through his ears, he grimaced. The man and wolf looked around for a moment, the man spoke. "Did you hear that girl?"

"Yeah- someone's out there." The wolf said.

The man grabbed the Springfield rifle out of the snow and he loaded it, cocking the gun. The wolf looked up toward the man, her brow frowned.

"Don't worry girl," the man began, he curved his finger around the trigger, "if there's anything out there, I'll take care of it."

The wolf inched away, attempting to take cover within the forest. His steps were light, but not light enough. The man heard him, the wolf growled and they approached the noise. He brought the rifle's sight to his eye.

"Whatever it is girl, I'll scare it off- cover your ears." The man ordered. The wolf flattened her ears; a sound rang through the forest. The man fired three shots causing the wolf among the trees to run. He darted into the forest, not stopping until he reached his pack's territory. The wolf regained his composer and let his haunches rest on the snow. "Nature- I am trusting your judgment."