Shep loped back into the den and nearly bumped snouts with Blaze. She was the last dog Shep wanted to smell at that heartbeat. He lowered his tail.

“Where’ve you been?” Blaze woofed, either ignoring or not noticing Shep’s reaction.

“We were wrong,” Shep woofed. “We shouldn’t have blamed Fuzz.”

Blaze gave a quick sigh, flicking her ears. “Wrong or no, it’s done,” she barked. “What is it with you, Shep? Every time you make a decision, you end up backing away from it. Do you want to lead this pack or not?” She looked him hard in the muzzle.

“No, Blaze,” Shep woofed. “I don’t want to lead this pack. This pack is going wild. We need to try to bring some order back to things, reorganize the teams —”

Blaze cut his bark short. “Enough,” she snapped. “You really think this is the time to paw around with your posture? The pack is like a herd of beasts on the edge of stampede — you show the slightest waver in your stance, and they’ll crush you. Why do I have to keep explaining this?”

Shep straightened his stance, raising his head and tail. “You’re wrong, Blaze,” he barked. “Strength doesn’t come from attacking the weakest members, or from scaring dogs into thinking you come from the Great Wolf. Strength comes from doing what you know from your claws to your nose is the right thing. And it was wrong to blame Fuzz for something we know he didn’t do.”

“A real leader does whatever he has to do to keep every dog alive,” Blaze snarled. “If you’re not willing to put your fur on the line for these dogs, then I will.” She bounded away from him into the main part of the den.

Shep wondered if he should follow her, stop her from doing whatever she was about to do, but he didn’t want to fight with her anymore. It seemed all he and his friends did was fight. He snuck through the back staircase-hole down to the bottom floor and found Callie lying in the dark. Her breathing was even, but Shep could smell that she was awake.

“I came back to apologize,” Shep woofed.

“You don’t owe me an apology,” Callie barked.

“Then what can I do?” Shep crouched down and crept closer to Callie’s back.

Callie raised her head, then shifted around so that she lay facing Shep. “For starters, you can find Honey and Fuzz and make sure they’re okay.”

“I will,” Shep woofed, relief flooding through him at the kindness in Callie’s barks.

“And then you have to get rid of Blaze.”

Shep pulled his muzzle back as if slapped. “What? Why?” he yipped.

“She’s tearing this pack apart,” Callie woofed. “If you fight her and drive her away, the dogs will smell that you’re still in charge. With the help of Oscar’s club, we can bring the pack together again.”

Shep stood and sat back, away from Callie. Nothing in her barks felt right. “No, Oscar’s club is as bad as Blaze’s ideas about being the alpha.”

“But you can use Oscar’s group,” Callie woofed, stepping closer to him. “The pup loves you, and only wants to please you. If you give him a kibble of positive attention, I think we can sway his stories however we need to. In fact, I’ve been coming up with a new legend we can tell in the morning —”

“Absolutely not!” Shep barked. “Callie, that club is nothing but lies. I don’t want dogs to follow me because they think I’m something I’m not. I want them to follow me because they believe I’ll do what’s right.”

“I keep telling you, it’s not about you anymore! We have to do what’s right for the pack!”

“I won’t do that, Callie,” Shep snuffled. “Not even for you.” He padded out of the room.

Callie’s barks followed him down the hall. “They won’t follow just any dog, Shep! They need to believe you’re more than they are! They’re just pets, scared pets!”

Shep escaped as fast as his paws could carry him from the room. Then he had an idea. He had to stop the pack from tumbling out of control. He felt like he was fighting the storm all over again — huge things swirled around him, threatening to tear every thing he cared about away from him. But this time, he could do something. He could tear the storm apart before it had the chance to do the same to him.

Shep sniffed out Oscar, who was woofing quietly with Odie and another dog Shep didn’t know.

“Oscar,” he barked.

The pup looked over his tail at Shep. “One heartbeat, Champion,” he yipped. “We have to finish planning tomorrow’s story of your greatness.”

Shep grabbed Oscar by the scruff and lifted him off the floor. “Now, pup,” Shep growled through his teeth.

Oscar snarled and squirmed in Shep’s jaws. “Put me down! I’m not a weakling anymore! I’ll have my followers get you for this!”

“You think your followers would attack the mighty Champion of the Great Wolf?”

Shep dragged the pup out of the boat and plopped him down on a patch of grass beneath a tree. The palm had been stripped bare by the winds. Now, its fronds were brown whips that clattered like twigs in the breeze.

Oscar shook his fur and sat, anger seething off him in waves. “You have my undivided attention,” he snarled. “What’s so important?”

“You’re disbanding the club tonight,” Shep barked, not loudly, but with a tone that suggested the issue was not open for discussion.

“Disbanding?” Oscar yipped. “Why?”

“I never wanted to be smelled the way you’ve gotten these dogs to smell me,” Shep woofed.

“You like my stories when they help you, like with Blaze and saving the cat,” Oscar growled. “You like my group when it gives you power, but if I don’t do exactly as you say, you want to end it?” The pup set his little jaw and squinted his deep brown eyes.

“That’s not why I want you to disband it,” Shep woofed.

“Are you afraid I’ll start running the pack?” Oscar snapped, standing. “You’re just jealous! I can’t believe it! Well, you’re right to have your tail between your legs. Where would you be right now without my club? I’ll tell you: You’d be alone in this den with no one but Callie to sniff your tail.”

Shep’s jaws hung open like a trap. Had the pup just actually asserted dominance? Shep shook his muzzle. No. Not Oscar. But he did bare his fangs. Or did he? No. He couldn’t have. He wouldn’t have.

Shep shook himself and lowered his head, taking a more friendly stance. “Why are you so angry, Oscar?” he woofed softly. “Let’s woof about things and maybe you’ll start to smell what I’m smelling.”

“Oh, yeah?” snarled Oscar. “What do you smell?”

“I smell a pup who’s let a little submission from some older dogs turn his nose onto the wrong scent,” Shep said in his most gentle bark.

The pup reset his jaw. “I knew it,” he growled. “You are jealous. Well, you can take your commands and bark them right up this palm tree. I gave you a chance to be a part of the club and you kicked dirt in my snout, so forget it. I’m not disbanding my club, not ever!”

Shep glared down at the pup, who growled back at him, fangs bared. Who was this dog? Where was the sweet pup who would have given his claws to curl next to Shep’s snout? What did I do to him?

There was a chance of barking with the old Oscar, but the pup was now sick with hate. Shep was sure he deserved some portion of that anger, but it wasn’t just about him anymore — he had to save the pack from itself. Shep sighed. “You leave me no choice.”

He bayed as loudly as he could, a piercing cry that echoed off all the buildings surrounding the plaza. The dogs inside the den pressed their paws against the glass. They began trickling out onto the dark street, and soon they surrounded Shep and the pup. Some dogs chattered their teeth nervously; others whimpered, asking why Oscar was there, why Shep had howled them out.

“I called you together to clear up a few things,” Shep barked. “I want you to know that the stories that Oscar and his friends have been telling you are lies.”

“Are not!” screeched the pup.

Shep lifted his great paw and placed it on Oscar’s head, then smushed him gently into the grass. The pup wriggled and whined to get free, but Shep held him.

Shep continued, “I am not the Great Wolf, nor his Champion. I’m not special in any way. I’m just a dog who wants to help other dogs, any animal in need. I’m a pretty great hunter, and a well-trained fighter. And I’m willing to fight for you, but not alone. I work with Higgins and Callie and Virgil and Blaze because they help me to help you. If any dog doesn’t like that fact, they’re free to leave the pack.”

He stood proud, staring into the eyes of the nearest dogs. Some seemed calmed by his words; some tails began to wag. Blaze stood near the edge of the crowd. Her head was cocked and she waved her tail.

Shep lifted his paw off Oscar. The pup fell away from Shep, gasping and hacking. He glared up at Shep with a hatred that sent shivers through Shep’s fur.

“How could you?” Oscar growled. The pup looked at the faces of the nearest dogs, and they looked down at him with something Shep could only describe as pity. Oscar turned his muzzle back to Shep. “You’ll regret this,” he snapped. “Without me, this pack will fall apart. And you know it.” The pup scampered away into the night.

The dogs began crawling back into the boat. Blaze came to Shep’s side.

“So you do want to lead,” she woofed. “Then I won’t stand in your way.”

“I’m not leading the way you want me to lead,” Shep said.

“It may not be exactly how I thought of leadership,” Blaze woofed. “But it works for this mess of pets.”

Shep started to lope away from her.

“Where are you going?” Blaze barked. “We have to get these dogs some food.”

“Have some dogs drag back that beast I killed,” Shep replied over his tail. “I have to find Honey and Fuzz.”

“Are you squirrel-brained?” Blaze cried. “You don’t even know where they went. The pack needs you!”

“I have to make things right,” Shep woofed. “I can’t leave them alone in this wild place.”

“You can’t leave your pack!” Blaze yelped. “Shep!”

Her barks reverberated behind him, but Shep kept running. He sniffed each passing tree, piece of rubble, and wall for some scent of Honey and the cat. Once they were back in the pack, every thing would be fixed. He was finally on the right scent and things were coming together.