Chapter 6: Scattered Sandstars
I woke up to the smell of pine and damp wood. The ceiling of Beaver's lodge stared back at me—wrong, all wrong. My fingers tightened around something hard.
Ezo's game.
The screen was black. Dead battery.
My chest locked up. Ezo never let her game die. Never left it behind.
"Ezo?!" My voice came out hoarse. No answer. Just the rustle of leaves outside and my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.
I stumbled to my feet. The jungle air was too warm, too alive—ferns swaying, birds singing like nothing had happened. How could the world just… keep going?
I ran.
Branches scratched at my arms as I crashed through the undergrowth. Past the scorched crater where I'd first met Balto, past the river where Moose had nearly drowned herself—places that felt like ghosts now.
Then, a voice:
"Ow—stupid thorn—"
Ezo.
She was crouched by the lakeshore, fur tangled with leaves, trying to tie a makeshift sling around her arm. Behind her, something small and black nosed at the dirt.
I didn't think. I just slammed into her, arms locking around her ribs so tight I could feel her breath hitch.
"You left." I whispered into her shoulder.
Ezo went stiff. "I was… getting supplies. For the pup."
A whimper.
I pulled back. There, between us, a little black husky pup blinked up with blue eyes—Balto's eyes.
The memories hit me like a landslide:
Rainbow light. Sandstars dancing in the air like glitter. Balto's voice—"Worth it."*
My knees gave out. The pup licked my hand, its tongue rough and warm. Just like hers.
Ezo's voice was quiet. "She's… not gone gone. Just… reset."
I stared at the pup's white-tipped paws—the same ones that had pinned me playfully in the snow what felt like a lifetime ago.
A laugh tore out of me, sharp and broken. "I never even got to ask her out."
Ezo's tail flicked. "Ask the pup. Might say yes."
I elbowed her. But when the pup licked the tears off my cheek, I didn't pull away.