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Alone and a long way from Kellandale, Henry journeyed on in search of his mother, sisters, and brothers. He fixed them firmly in his mind’s eye. The sorrow of their loss, and the worry from knowing they were at the circus drove him forward. The pain of separation from Elinora, Tillie, and the others gave him the will to complete his mission as fast as he could. He had been running for hours, only stopping when necessary for water or to catch his breath.
The sun was now high overhead, so he veered off the road and headed into the forest to seek cover while continuing to travel in a northeasterly direction. He had quickly realized that most of the people he encountered along the road were frightened by him, which resulted in some chasing him away with their guns; others were so awestruck by his size they had very much wanted to capture him as a prize.
He tried not to feel defeated so early on in his quest, but eventually his body gave in and he collapsed on the ground on the bank of the Iveria. Though it was the very same river that flowed past the manor house and ran through the forest there, the sense of security and protection within its boundaries was absent once he had left behind the sanctuary of Kellandale Wood. He let out a sorrowful groan. The cool water lapped over his body and soaked his fur as he leaned his head over to take a drink. As he lay there panting, and for the first time feeling hopeless, a large fish crow flew down into the tree above.
The bird startled when he saw Henry lying on the ground beneath him. He flapped his wings defensively, flying higher into the tree. He had never seen a dog before; the only canines he knew were the wild wolves that dwelled in this part of the forest and he was mistrustful.
Henry remained still, passively lying down, not wishing to frighten him any more than he had.
The fish crow studied him closely, cocking his head from side to side with curiosity. When he no longer felt as though he was being looked upon as a meal, he hopped back down onto a lower branch.
Henry stood up and shook himself off, then greeted the fish crow, who cackled with delight when he realized he could understand Henry’s thoughts.
Henry told him his story and shared how it had come to pass that he was there by the river.
The fish crow listened intently, squawking passionately and struggling to find his own voice. He was eager share information he believed could help set Henry on the path he was desperately seeking. Once he figured out how to communicate back, the fish crow began to convey what he had seen.
During his daily flit around the forest the day before, he had happened upon some men stuck on the side of the road—three noisy louts yelling at one another and disturbing the peace as they attempted to fix a wheel on their carriage. Curious and welcoming the entertainment, he flew to a nearby bush to watch. But from his perch he caught a glimpse inside the vehicle; there he noticed a large and colorful bird confined in a cage. It was in distress and needed help.
Henry’s ears perked up.
The fish crow told Henry how he had flapped and fluttered at the men to chase them away, but they quickly drove him back into the treetops with their guns. Once they were on their way he had followed the men a long distance to a village. “Garibaldi!” he squawked, repeating a word he had overheard one of the hunters say just before they had disappeared into a building.
He expressed great sorrow that he had not been able to find a way help a fellow bird. But those very same men had appeared in his thoughts when Henry had conveyed his tale to him, leading him to believe the men with the bird and the hunters Henry had encountered back home were one and the same.
Henry was shocked when he realized it the Messenger had been captured, and agreed it was Mudd and his men the fish crow had encountered. He told the bird this and thanked him for his help, for without him, he would have been lost. If he could find the hunters, he knew they would certainly lead him straight to his family at the circus. To show his deep gratitude, Henry told his new friend how to find Kellandale Wood and invited him to make his home there.
The fish crow bobbed his head, showing interest in the offer, then he pointed his beak in the direction of the carriage path that led to the village.
Henry thanked him again, promising he would free the bird, then dashed away to find him. An excellent runner true to his breed, his stamina allowed him to travel at a swift pace. The days he had spent in the woods while he grew, playing with the animals, running free, and wrestling with Pipe, had conditioned him physically. He may have started life out as a runt, but his time at Kellandale had allowed him to grow to his full potential; the heart of the forest had helped him grow even beyond it. But still, he was gentle, loyal, and affectionate, and his only instinct toward other animals was to play hard; he knew no fear of them.
Now things felt different as he began to encounter wild animals unaccustomed to the ways of Kellandale Wood. Many were aloof, skittish, and on guard. He could see some of them hovering at the edge of the forest, watching, and even sensed a tinge of aggression creeping in from some of them. For this reason, he purposefully steered clear of any interaction.
After a time, the sun lowered in the sky. A few stray clouds moved in and rain droplets began to sprinkle on the carriage path that Henry was following, so he moved deeper into the forest. Hunger and despair began to consume him. He paused and sniffed the air. Something was tracking him, and it wasn’t human. He shivered involuntarily when he felt several sets of eyes fixed upon him.
A pack of wolves crept out from of the shadows, revealing their leader—lean and riddled with scars. He had Henry in his sights and he advanced quickly.
The rest of the pack was close behind.
Henry tried to scan the leader’s thoughts, but he couldn’t connect with him as easily as he could with others. These were wild animals driven by the necessity to survive, operating on instinct, defensive and aggressive. They were oblivious to Henry’s thoughts, but still, they could sense something different about him.
Henry hesitated. He considered running as there was a chance he could get away. Then he contemplated standing his ground, though every instinct made him feel uncomfortable about fighting with a fellow being. He didn’t want to risk injury, nor did he want to hurt anyone. But the pack was creeping low to the ground now, and it was clear they were preparing to attack. Henry needed to think fast. If there had been one lone wolf, he knew it wouldn’t have dared to approach him. But there were many, and together they were bold.
In an instant the pack was on top of him; one of the wolves struck from the rear as the leader lunged at him from the side. The others waited for an opening.
But Henry was quick and agile, dodging between the two, then turning on the pack leader who had grabbed his flank with his teeth. Henry quickly flipped him on his back, closing his mouth around his neck, pinning him to the ground. The wolf lay motionless. Henry sensed his fear, and he did not bite down.
Without injuring the leader, Henry attempted to communicate again as he cautiously began to release him. The rest of the pack paused to listen.
Though Henry’s demeanor had subdued the wolf, it confused and him and he defensively jumped back up, baring his teeth and growling.
Henry continued speaking using the language of the forest.
The profound sense of empathy the wolf felt was overwhelming; he tipped his head, pricking his ears, then signaled to the rest of the pack to stand down.
Henry conveyed to them that he was not a threat.
The wolf understood him clearly now. He conveyed back to Henry, and told him about the plight of their pack, that they were hunting aggressively out of desperation and near-starvation. As the last surviving pack in the area, they had been able to evade hunters and remain hidden from humans; they viewed anyone as a threat, even other animals. The wolf leader apologized for their misguided attack.
Henry told them about Kellandale Wood, where they would be protected and nourished by the energy of the forest, and where they would no longer have need to hunt for food—a place where they wouldn’t have to fear other animals or humans and could make a new home and live in peace. He offered its shelter to them. Then he told them of the kindness of Elinora, Tillie, and the others. The wolves listened intently as he shared his story and what he had learned from the fish crow.
A lanky wolf with shaggy fur and a striking splash of white fur across her chest stepped forward. She thanked Henry for refusing to fight and for his kindness. She knew of the human called Garibaldi—a man known to lure wolves into his traps with food—and warned Henry to be wary. Then the wolves formed a protective circle around Henry and led him to Craggybog.
When they reached the village, the sun had just begun to set. Shouts and laughter were coming from the people ambling along the dirt road running through town, so they hid at the edge of the woods. The wolf leader showed Henry the building that belonged to Garibaldi, which was where he hoped to find the hunters and the bird he was searching for.
Henry again invited the wolf pack to Kellandale Wood and wished them safe passage if they chose to make the journey.
The wolves thanked him, promising they would meet again one day back in his forest. Then they wished him luck on his quest, and retreated into the darkness.
Henry hunkered down and waited. He thought deeply about his encounter with the wolves; it had ended well, but it was the first time he had ever been pitted against another being. Truth be told, he was surprised by his own strength and that defending himself had come so easy. But this knowledge also grounded him, increasing his resolve. He now knew he had the physical ability, the means to communicate, and the fortitude to carry on.