Looking back at how long it has been since I've updated this story, I feel slightly ashamed because nearly two years is far too long. Allow me to apologize sincerely for the ridiculous delay, and personally promise to update this regularly from now on.

Chapter 12

Despite the lateness of the hour, Jenna was restless. She sat in the direct center of the shed, drumming her claws nervously against the wood as the tip of her tail flicked tumultuously across the ground. Her heart beat at an irregular rate, the base of her stomach churned, and she could swear that she heard things prowling about in the night just beyond her door, but each time she would dare to look, she would see nothing. She did not know what had gotten her so worked up, but somehow she knew that something was wrong, and call it a mere hunch or a mother's instinct, but the longer she dwelled on the thought, the more and more she began to worry that this might have something to do with her son.

Then from out of the distance she heard the crunch of paws as they fell quickly to the snow drawing near. She felt her stomach twist into a knot and felt her heart rate spike as she rose to her paws to greet whomever it was that approached, though she somehow knew that it was him. Her door was then flung open and into the shed came Balto with the unconscious body of Kodiak hanging limp from his mouth.

"Balto, what-" she began, but he cut her off.

"Jenna, I'm so sorry. I just didn't know what else to do," he began frantically as he laid Kodiak upon the floor, "he just..."

"Just what?" Jenna asked worried, "what happened?"

Balto panted, fighting to regain control of himself.

"I told him," Balto answered breathlessly, "everything."

Jenna's eyes widened.

"You what?" she asked astounded.

"Jenna I had no other choice," Balto inquired desperately, "he's turning more rapidly than I ever expected, so I thought that if I helped him understand, then it would help him win."

"But you only made it worse," she deduced, feeling anger begin to build up inside of her, but after a moment, it was replaced with sadness.

Balto nodded, ashamed.

"So... is it over?" she asked him, unshed tears beginning to sting her eyes, "has he?"

"I don't know," Balto answered, "we won't know for sure until he wakes up."

"If he ever wakes up," he concluded silently in his mind.

Jenna nodded.

"How did it happen?" she asked, though deep down something told her that she already knew.

Balto's body began to shake noticeably and a tear rolled through the fur on his cheeks.

"He was in so much pain," Balto began in a trembling voice, "and I couldn't stop it."

Jenna moved closer and laid a gentle paw on his shoulder.

"He begged me to help him," he continued, "to take away the pain, but I couldn't do it, Jenna, I couldn't do what he asked of me, so I- I-"

"Shh, Balto it's okay," Jenna consoled.

"I lifted my paws to my own son," Balto cried, "I purposefully hurt him, Jenna, and for all I know, I could have killed him."

Jenna pulled him in close and held him tight.

"Everything is going to be okay," she began, attempting to bring ease to her sensitive mate, "he's strong, Balto, he will make it."

Balto sniffled and pulled away, then turned his eyes down to his son.

"But what are we going to do now, Jenna?" he asked, never lifting his eyes from the pup, "we can't take him to the hospital. Those butchers will kill him, and we can't take him to his home in this condition. What if he wakes up?"

Jenna sighed and lowered her head.

"We'll have to keep him here for the night to observe him," she began, "if he is out this late with his father, they would assume that he stayed the night, but come morning if his condition has not improved, we'll have to pretend that he has fallen ill."

Balto nodded slowly and wiped the tears from his eyes.

"Okay," he said, wiping his nose with the side of his paw.

"Now come," she began, "you need to get some rest."

"But... Kodi-" he argued, but she cut him off.

"Balto we've done all that we can do," she reasoned, "it's in God's hands now."

Balto nodded, but he would not leave his son's side. He turned, collected his unconscious son then followed Jenna to the back of the shed.

"Place him in the basket," Jenna instructed, "I'll fetch a blanket."

Balto nodded and did as he was told, gently depositing little Kodiak onto the pink wool, then lifted his head to find Jenna approaching with a blue blanket in her mouth. He needed no instruction to take a section of the blanket into his teeth and help to drape it over his son, then once this was done, Jenna stepped into the basket and wrapped her body around his as she laid down behind him. For a moment Balto only stared at his son, then, after about ten seconds, he spoke.

"Please, Kodi," he begged, "please be okay."

The auburn rays of the coming sun filled the room to its greatest extremities, casting out all shadows which had previously acted as shade for their eyes. One by one they all began to rouse, each of them groaning in distaste, for mornings seemed to come earlier and earlier each day as sleep was hard to come by in their line of work, so each passing day was a struggle which only continued to grow worse as time continued to slip into the future. Their muscles ached, their joints ground against each other, and their bones cracked with each movement they made, but still they carried on, driven to their feet by the love of the toil. But they could not keep this up forever. They were young, but they were not immortal.

They needed a day off before they completely fell apart. Maybe that blizzard that the humans had been blabbering about would strike and make it so they could not run, but that was highly unlikely. Simpson would drive them straight to Hell and back if one of its residents had a letter that needed to be delivered, so what was one little blizzard to him? Each of them had their own routine which helped to get their blood pumping and their stark bodies loosened up, but essentially they all stretched and cracked their joints with soft groans until they found the motivation to press themselves to their paws.

Then, like every morning, and in direct contrast to their wishes, Simpson entered the room with a leather thong in his hand which he would tie to one of their collars then lead them out to the sled where they would be harnessed then left until joined again by another of their fellows. As was routine, he took Scholla first and began to lead her away, then returned moments later to retrieve another until one by one they were all harnessed and ready to go.

They hated the idea of having to go out into a winter storm, but at least they knew that Simpson was prepared judging from the supplies which he had added to the sled (or at least so they hoped.) He finished fastening Kirby's traces, leaving the mail as the final item to tend to before making their departure, then straightened his body and turned toward the post office. As was how it went every morning, nobody spoke a word until he was no longer in ear shot, but unlike any morning before, the first words spoken were complaints.

"I can't believe we are actually going out today," Ralph moaned, "the humans may think that the damned storm won't hit, but I'll tell ya every bone in my body is telling me that if we go out today, we're gonna get lost in a stinking blizzard."

"I hear ya," Kirby scoffed, turning half of his body to face his friend, "makes no sense to try and deliver mail in this because if we do get lost it'll take more time to try and find us than it would for us to simply wait."

"But we can't forget our oath," Kodiak reminded, drawing the attention to him, "neither rain nor snow nor sleet nor hail will stop the U.S. Mail. It's what we live for."

Dusty then took her turn to speak.

"Yes, but there's a limit," she argued.

"And a winter storm is borderline insane," Soquin agreed behind her.

Kodiak sighed.

"Bellyaching about our mission isn't going to change anything," he reminded, "I don't want to do this any more than you guys do, but we are still going to deliver the mail whether this storm hits or not, so we may as well all get over it."

All of the dogs scoffed and shot him glares, but the conversation was cut short when the bell on the door of the post office chimed and Simpson stepped out into the morning with a sack of mail in his hands. He groaned as he placed it into the sled then turned to his dogs, almost certain that he could read pointed glares on a few of their faces.

"Listen, I don't like this any more than you guys do," he began, hoping they would listen and understand, "but if that storm is supposed to hit then maybe if we work fast enough we can beat it, yeah?"

With snorts of displeasure they turned their backs to him and faced forward, ready to begin, or more so, to get it over with.

"Alright, Kirby, mush on," Simpson called, bringing the dogs to life. There was a brief lurch as the dogs all threw themselves forward in their traces, then sled began to slowly to move.

"That's it, guys, push on" Simpson encouraged as the sled began to gain speed then, just as they were pulling out a town, they reached a decent cruising speed and faded into the trees.

"So Simpson actually drove them into the storm, huh?" Balto asked as he walked beside his mate.

"Well, what do you expect?" she asked him with a small chuckle, "that man works those dogs to death, but somehow always winds up being late. How do you figure that?"

Balto shrugged.

"Can't really say," he replied, "I just hope he has the sense to stay in White Mountain until this storm blows out."

"You and me both," Jenna concurred, "but I don't think there is anything to worry about."

"I hope you're right," the hybrid replied, a hint of discontent in his voice.

Jenna turned to him with a smile.

"Oh come on, Balto," she teased, pushing his shoulder, "why must you worry over everything all the time? Nothing is gonna go wrong."

Bslto rocked with the shove then turned to her.

"Yeah, you're right," he replied, feigning a smile, for, despite his mate's reassuring words, he could still feel an ominous sense of calamity plaguing his stomach.

"Of course I am," Jenna smirked, "I'm always right."

Balto rolled his eyes.

"Do I even need to bring up the 'heart worms' of twenty-seven?" he teased, shooting her a dubious grin.

"Oh shut up," Jenna replied, scowling.

Balto laughed, so Jenna punched him on the shoulder indignantly which only caused him to laugh harder.

"You read an article about heart worm awareness and were convinced that you contracted them yourself," he laughed, "I don't think I've ever seen you freak out so badly."

"Oh, whatever," she scoffed, "if you really wanna play that game, I could always bring up the last time we did it and you thought that you broke your-"

"No, that won't be necessary," Balto interrupted, shifting uncomfortably for such a personal subject was one which he did not wish to discuss, "I'll be good."

Jenna smiled and chuckled victoriously.

"Yes you will," she said coyly.

"Even though it was kinda your fault," Balto mumbled, lowering his chin.

"What was that?" Jenna asked.

"Nothing," Balto replied quickly, lifting his head, "why don't we go get a bite to eat. Are you hungry?"

As the mention of food stimulated her ear drums, she felt her stomach rumble.

"Actually I am," she said, slightly surprised.

"Well how 'bout we go out to my place and I'll whip us up a little something to hold us over?" Jenna smiled.

"Sounds good," she replied with a wave of her tail.

Balto nodded and took her tail into his then began to lead her out of town.

The sled bounced quickly across the snow as it was towed along by the team, spraying trails of white powder behind it as the rails sliced through the snow. They had only gone but about twelve miles, but the farther and farther into the wilderness, the less confident Kodiak began to feel about this trip. He sensed it earlier before they left, but brushed it off as nerves. But now he found his eyes glued to the sky for in the vast blue void overhead he could see a spectacular halo sliced into the clouds which surrounded the sun, a beautiful, but haunting sight because he knew what it meant.

It was within the first few moments of discovering the halo that the direction of the wind suddenly shifted and brought with it a frigid breeze which sliced through his fur and cut his body straight to the bone. A sinking feeling overtook him and a pit began to form in the base of his stomach, for he knew now just how big a mistake they had made. There was no denying it now. The storm was coming, and there was no way for them to avoid its wrath.