Chapter 4: The Calm at the Jungle and the Storm at the Beach
The jungle hummed with cicadas, their drone thick as the humidity clinging to my fur. Balto trotted ahead, her nose twitching at every rustle in the ferns. Behind us, Ezo lagged, her game's bleeps punctuating the silence like a faulty heartbeat.
Then—voices.
Moose's booming declaration cut through the foliage: "I'll beat you at YOUR OWN game!"
We rounded a bend to find her chest-to-chest with Jaguar, while Asian Small-Clawed Otter floated on her back downstream, utterly unbothered.
Jaguar flicked her tail. "You can't even dog-paddle."
"Swimming contest! Now!" Moose slammed a foot into the riverbank. Mud splattered everywhere.
Balto barked a laugh. "I'm in!"
Jaguar groaned. "Fine. But when you drown, I'm telling Lion."
Moose lasted four seconds.
She hit the water like a boulder—and sank like one. Jaguar dragged her out by the scruff, coughing up water.
"Why—" Jaguar panted, "would you challenge me to—"
"Pride" Moose wheezed, striking a pose.
I swear I heard Jaguar mutter, "How can Lion deal with this every day?"
Balto shook herself dry, spraying us all. "That was awesome! What's next?"
I reached for her hand—then froze. My fingers hovered. Would she…?
Balto interlaced our hands without looking. "C'mon, slowpoke!"
The warmth of her grip sent a stupid flutter through my chest.
Ezo's voice cracked behind us. "Silver. We should go back."
I turned. Her ears were flat, her game clutched too tight. Since when did Ezo fear the jungle?
Then the earth roared.
An explosion ripped through the cliffs. The trees shrieked as they bent—not away from the blast, but toward it, like something was pulling them.
Balto was already running.
Ezo grabbed my sleeve. "DON'T—"
I yanked free.
The beach was wrong.
Smoke coiled in unnatural spirals, defying the wind. Shapes moved inside it—too fast, too fluid. Lion and Brown Bear were losing, their fur matted with Sandstars.
Then I saw her.
Serval.
Or—not Serval. The thing wearing her face turned, and its eye pierced me.
Balto's snarl vibrated through my ribs. "ENEMY!"
The fog cleared.
Gray Wolf wrestled a Raccoon-shaped Cerulean. African Wild Dog gagged as a Fennec-shaped one drove a fist into her gut.
And Balto—
Balto was glowing.
Her form stretched, fur melting into streaks of light. The professor's voice echoed from nowhere: "A latent evolution? Impossible—!"
Then Balto blurred.
Ceruleans shattered like glass. But with each strike, her light dimmed.
She's fading.
I lunged for the waves—water weakens them, water—
The Fennec-Cerulean twisted. Its arm speared toward me—
"SILVER!"
Balto leapt.
The sound it made—like a thousand mirrors breaking—as the Cerulean's claws pierced through her.
Sandstars bled from the wound.
Her eyes met mine. "…Worth it."
Then a rainbow light erupted from her wound, swirling around her like a storm of Sandstars. It was reversing her back.
"NO!" I screamed, scrambling forward. But the light swallowed her whole. When it faded, a small black husky pup lay panting in the sand, its white-tipped paws twitching.
She was alive. But she wasn't Balto anymore.
Then the world snapped back into hell.
The Cerulean wrenched its claws free, scattering Sandstars like glittering blood. All I could do was sob into my hands, praying this was a nightmare—that I'd wake up tangled in Beaver's spare blankets, Balto's arms around me, her laugh in my ear. "Silly Silver! Let's get breakfast!"
But my tears mixed with seawater, and the pup's whimpers were too real.
The Cerulean loomed over me. This was it. My body felt like lead, my muscles useless. Maybe… if I died here, I'd see her again. I forced a smile, staring into the creature's hollow eye—
A blur of gold.
Lion slammed into me, knocking us both sideways. The Cerulean's claws sliced through her arm instead, sending it away as it faded. Sandstars gushed from the stump, shimmering as they danced in the air.
Lion didn't even scream. She just bared her teeth, her remaining arm pinning me down. "Stay Still." she growled.
Then the pain and the smoke swallowed me whole.