DogForge by Casey Calouette Page B

the boulder and dug and dug. It had to be there, she knew it must be. So she dug under the snow ground her paws and they bled. It was all she had, she had to find it.
    A bit of metal glinted in the air and the blue light poked out. She dug more, faster, furious, and then saw it was cracked. She snatched it into her mouth and crawled out of the hole. Something was leaking and she could taste it in her mouth. A taste like old fish and metal wires.
    She spat and licked up snow and snatched the cylinder up again. Something flashed in her eyes and she blinked. It was an image and it was gone. Then again, and again, her tongue tingled and burned. Her head swam and she felt strange, like something was inside of her, like waking from a dream. The images came again, faster, so fast they were a blur.
    Denali fell over onto her side and groaned. Her tail shuddered and shook and then she was still.
    When she opened her eyes everything was the same. She sat up and could still taste the metal fish taste and her own blood. She peered at the canister suspiciously. Did that really happen? She wondered if it was something from the avalanche. Not that it mattered, the light still burned on the canister and that was good enough for her.
    She set off and ran off the snow and through the rock fields. Then before she knew it trees loomed up and she saw the fork of the river below. That was always the meeting place. Follow the river.
    She ran with hunger as her only companion. Her stomach growled and groaned the cold felt even worse. She passed skeletons of dogs dead for ages and paid them no mind. They were a thing she saw everywhere. She ran through the plains of stone and raced along the river bank.
    Sentries howled out. Denali ran past them and felt triumphant, she’d made it, she’d survived.
    Two packs of dogs watched from the river banks. The sounds of smell were clean and pure. Grat and Samus stood before one pack. Next to them was a monster of a dog, massive and wreathed by a crackling energy shield. 
    Denali recognized him at once. His name was whispered at night to scare naughty pups. Ivan. But she didn’t see Samson.
    “Denali!” Grat’s voice boomed.
    She stood on shaky legs and crumpled onto her chest. The strange taste made her feel dizzy, but she stood and looked up to Grat.
    His eyes were stern, like a father’s, but she could see the worry on his face. His shoulder was pierced, the telltale mark of a skelebot claw.
    Denali went closer and felt the eyes of two packs upon her.
    “You ran again, eh?” Samus sneered.
    “But—” Denali spoke.
    “Enough,” Grat boomed and stepped close to her. He leaned his great head close to hers. “Come, be silent, you’re safe.”
    Denali walked low and felt ashamed. She hadn’t ran. She hadn’t fled. She did the one thing that saved them all. No one knew. No one would ever know.
    “Samson did the right thing, and you left him,” Samus said as he spoke to the crowd. “He’s the hero here, not her!”
    Ivan looked on passively through the shimmer of his energy field.
    “We’ll see,” Grat added, and led Denali away.
    The pair walked through a field of boulders. Denali wanted to speak, to explain herself, but she knew it wasn’t the right time.
    Grat said nothing until the pups were in view. Barley hovered over them. “My family is safe.”
    Denali knew he meant not just the pups, but her too. Her heart warmed and she was suddenly tired. All she wanted to do was lay down in safety. “I didn’t—”
    “I know,” Grat said.
    Denali whimpered through the canister and followed him to safety.

CHAPTER SEVEN
Dreams
    T he sun rose and bathed the mountains in red dawnlight. The pack woke slowly and stiffly. Small fires flickered in the dawn shadows, bringing the smell of singed caribou and charred rabbit.
    Denali gnawed on the knee joint of a caribou and cracked her teeth from one edge to the next. Her eyes relaxed and her tongue lolled to one side of the joint lapping at it