PROLOGUE

Darkness lay thick in the den, with only a faint smudge of moonlight shining through the entrance. Lick tried not to shiver as she blinked rapidly. Although the den-smells were warm and comforting, it couldn’t be so very cold and lonely out there in the silver glow of the Moon-Dog . . . could it?

Beside her Grunt was still snoring, and Wiggle was making little squeaky noises, his lip quirking back as if he was dreaming of prey. How could her two litter-brothers sleep? The three of them had something to do—something that couldn’t wait!

Lick nudged each of her brothers with her nose, shoving Wiggle harder when he grumbled and resisted.

“Wake up,” she whispered. “Come on. We have to go!”

Grunt gave a tiny groan of protest, but as he woke properly he blinked hard and stumbled to his paws. Then he nipped Wiggle on the ear to rouse him.

“Hurry up, Wiggle,” he growled. “Lick’s right. It’s time!”

They were making an awful amount of noise, or so it seemed to Lick, but the adult dogs of their new Pack didn’t stir. She could hear snores and sleepy murmurs, and the occasional scrape of claws from a dog on a dream-hunt, and she could just make out furred flanks, rising and falling in the darkness. We’ll make it out of here. We have to!

There was a strange little ache in Lick’s belly as she took a last look at Lucky, Martha, Mickey . . . at all the dogs who had cared for them, who had found them and taken them in after their Mother-Dog went to sleep and didn’t wake up. This Pack had been kind to them, and Lick wished she could say a proper good-bye.

But if we wake them up, they’ll stop us from leaving.

“Come on, Lick.” Grunt’s low voice was at her ear. “Don’t change your mind now! This Pack thinks we’re bad dogs. Well, we’re real Fierce Dog pups, and we’ll be fine without them!”

“I know,” sighed Lick softly. “I know, it’s just that—”

“They’re only kind now because we’re little.” Grunt shook himself angrily and whispered, “They won’t be kind when we’re big Fierce Dogs and they’re scared of us!”

“Of course. We’ll never really belong in this Pack.” Lick gave her brother a quick nuzzle. “Let’s go. But try to be quiet!”

Wiggle was trembling with fear as the pups crept cautiously up the earth slope to the mouth of the den, but Lick and Grunt goaded their smaller brother on with nudges and gentle nips. When they emerged into the faint moonlight, all three of them froze for a moment. The grass beneath Lick’s paw pads was damp with dew, and the night air smelled sharp as her nostrils flared. She had to look strong for Wiggle, and that made Lick feel a little braver herself.

But it’s a big world out here. . . .

Slowly, quietly, the pups edged forward, huddling together and staying as low as they could. Wet grass tickled Lick’s belly and chin, and she wanted desperately to sneeze. But I can’t.

Up ahead, a large shadow moved against the tree trunks, and Lick shrank back. Along with her brothers, she held her breath as she watched the Patrol Dog Moon slink along the camp’s border, her ears pricked and nostrils scenting the air for trouble.

But Moon wasn’t scouting for three small pups within the camp itself. Her shape vanished into the shadows, and Lick breathed a sigh of relief. Quickly the three Fierce Dogs scuttled to the tree line that marked the camp’s border, their pawsteps sounding terribly loud to Lick’s quivering ears.

If the den had felt dark, the woods beyond the camp somehow seemed even blacker. Small creatures rustled in the grass, making the pups jump, and when a night bird screeched overhead, Wiggle started in terror and almost stumbled. Grunt’s head was lifted high, his jaw clenched stiffly, and although Lick reckoned his fearlessness was a bit of an act, she didn’t want to look like a coward herself. Wiggle was pressed so tightly against her flank, she was sure she was the only thing keeping his trembling little body upright.

“Where’s the rock?” asked Wiggle plaintively, when they’d padded in silence for what felt like forever.

“Not far.” But Lick was beginning to doubt herself—and she had a feeling Grunt doubted her too, from the resentful glances he was shooting her. If they could just find that oddly shaped gray lump of stone, the one that looked like a crouching giantfur, she’d know exactly where they were, and they could follow the river upstream. . . . “We’ve passed Giantfur Rock loads of times with Martha. It can’t be much farther to the river.”

“If we’re going the right way,” grumbled Grunt.

“Maybe we passed it already?” suggested Wiggle nervously.

“I don’t think so.” Lick hesitated, one paw in the air.

Grunt glanced to the left and right, licking his small jaws. “I think you’ve taken us the wrong way, Lick.”

“You’re the one who said we needed to go downwind of that big tree!” Lick snapped.

“And it was you who said we had to cross the little stream!”

Lick opened her jaws to quarrel some more, but she could hear Grunt’s breath rasp as he glared at her. His forelegs shook, and she realized he was just as scared as she was.

“It doesn’t matter whose fault it is,” she whined miserably, her ears drooping. “We’re lost and we’re all by ourselves and I don’t know what we’re going to do!”

Wiggle gave a despairing whimper and lay down with his head on his paws. “We’re lost!” he echoed.

“We’ll be all right.” Lick tried to comfort him, but she didn’t sound convincing even to herself. We can’t be lost. This is silly! She lifted her head determinedly and sniffed the air. “That way, I’m sure . . . maybe . . .”

The other two just stared, looking very reluctant to believe her.

“Come on!” Forcing her ears up, Lick chose a likely-looking direction and picked up a paw. But it felt heavy, and she realized her legs were aching. Miserably she set down her paw once more, and her ears drooped. “I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I don’t know the way.”

Silence fell around the three pups, and they stared at one another in lonely misery and terror. Even the trees’ shadows seemed to draw tighter around them.

Then, in the stillness, there was a rattle and rustle of leaves.

Lick couldn’t help giving a yelp of shock, and she spun around to face the pale shape that was pushing through the undergrowth toward them. Out of the scrub came a small black nose, quivering whiskers, and then, abruptly, a bright and friendly white-furred face.

“Daisy!” squeaked Lick. The sickening fear gave way to almost unbearable relief, and her small legs suddenly felt weak and shaky.

“Lick! Grunt, Wiggle—what are you doing out here in the middle of the night?” The little white dog gazed at the pups, her dark eyes full of concern. “You could have been hurt!”

Lick and Grunt traded guilty glances, while Wiggle sniffled unhappily, staring at his paws.

“We were running away,” blurted Lick at last.

“You were?” Daisy’s eyes widened in disbelief. “But why?”

“No dog wants us in this Pack.” Grunt’s face grew surly and resentful. “We’re better off on our own.”

“Oh, Sky-Dogs, of course that’s not true—not either part!” Daisy sprang forward on her short legs and began to lick them all frantically. “Of course we want you in the Pack, pups—and of course you’re better off with us! Every dog needs a strong Pack, now that the Big Growl has changed the world!”

“But the Pack Dogs don’t like us,” muttered Grunt.

“Now, come on back to the camp with me.” Ignoring his sullen words, Daisy licked Grunt’s nose until he sneezed. “Lucky wants you in our Pack, and so does Mickey. And Martha, and me. And if any dog doesn’t, they’ll soon come around. Don’t you worry, pups!”

Lick exchanged a look with Grunt. Wiggle was clearly desperate to go back with Daisy; his eyes were suddenly brighter and his pricked ears quivered with frantic hope. Grunt looked too tired to argue anymore. And if Lick was honest, she felt very relieved indeed that they’d been found.

“All right, Daisy.” She couldn’t stop a yawn from escaping, and her jaws widened with it till her eyes were squeezed tight. She shook herself and blinked rapidly. “We’ll come. But it’s such a long way back. . . .”

“Oh, little one.” Daisy laughed fondly. “It’s not half as far as you think. You’ve barely reached the edge of the first hunting ground.”

Lick’s ears drooped and her body sagged. So much for our big escape. And no wonder we couldn’t find Giantfur Rock. It’s still far, far away.

All the same, she felt her heart lighten a little as she followed in Daisy’s pawsteps. Exhausted as she was, she only wanted to curl up in that cozy den once again, and not even Grunt’s rebellious muttering behind her could change her mind.

And I do want to belong to this Pack. Maybe Daisy’s right. They’ll get used to us, and they’ll like us in the end.

I want my Mother-Dog, but she’s gone to sleep forever.

So I want to belong. I want a Pack.

Lick glanced skyward with a terrible pang of yearning. Why can’t I belong?