This world has so many smells! I have not gone more than 100 heartbeats without a new one since we arrived. I am using the ample opportunity for practice to ensure that when I am of Service-age I will be best suited to scent-science.

Creche is practically empty. Over the days there have been fewer and fewer Soil Parents in creche. They have been taken off duty to dig trainings and den complexes and help Quarterdogs^. Soil Parents will come back when dogs are whelping and creche gets busy. There are no new pups yet, all my old creche-mates are on World starting their training. There is not even a littersworth^ of Runts^, like me, in creche until the new pups come. There are only 9 of us and we have all been in creche for a cycle. We know how it goes, we’ve learnt our discipline and obedience lessons.

Because creche-pups are normally younger, the Soil Parents are not very careful with their language – I know that there has been an order to ensure as many dogs are swelling as possible. I will not be swelling with any-dog for another 4 or 5 cycles (you cannot take Heat-mates until you have completed training and found your Service), but I know that every-dog is feeling the pressure.

We are all Runts, but that doesn’t mean we are similar. There are some who are Runts because they were born different of body like No Spots Runt Rise and Naked Runt Rise. No Spots Runt is plain in colour, it is striking but she does not feel like she should be kept back this cycle. She misses her creche-mates and is eager to go onto training, she is the best of us at obedience and investigation. Naked Runt was born with no hair. It has grown in a bit in the last cycle. I have heard Team Set and Kind Set talking about how Naked Runt may never grow all his coat. He will always be impressive; he is large for our age and tough. If he is successful in conflict, his scars will show well on his skin.

Then there are others, who were sick when they were born and needed the extra cycle in creche to ensure full health before they go onto training, like Thoughtful Runt Set, Silky Runt Rise and Tenacious Runt Set. They were all ill last cycle so are catching up on the lessons they missed now. Then the last 4 of us, we are all from larger litters. When we were whelped, we were small. We all need some more time to grow.

I am the smallest of all the Runts. There is no disadvantage to being a Runt in Pack but I know I will not be a warrior. I don’t want to be so that’s fine, but I know that Still Runt Rise already rues that he won’t get to be a warrior. He would like that. I know he would. Every-dog serves how they are most suited to when they are of Service-age. Every-dog is happy when they are given their Service. Still Runt will still always wish he was a warrior though. I can smell his desire when we practise obedience and play fight and practice stealth. I wonder why he isn’t more excited to do his Service, whatever that might be.

The others are playing, learning the movements we need to have mastered when we begin training. No-dog has noticed I am sitting apart. I find that, if I am still and try to control my emotions, I am almost invisible. I think it is called scent-masking. We will be trained in it at training. I just learnt to do it one day. The Soil Parents are not attending us, they are gossiping about something at the side of the creche enclosure. All of us have decided to make sure we are not just ready for training, but at the top of the pack for our chosen specialisms. We have been making sure we practise skills, without instruction. I think the Soil Parents have been bored with how little we need managing.

If I will serve as a scent-scientist, then I need to take every opportunity to practise. I raise my nose and take in the surroundings. Play is about to become a scrap. Still Runt is getting too excited and, though he is the smallest except for me, he will be biting soon and the others will remind him of his place. The Soil Parents are worried, they must be discussing some of the plans that are not shared with pups, unless you know how to listen. I am not interested in that today. I drop my nose to the ground and follow it. As I travel through the growing settlement, I smell a den-complex being dug. They have hit a band of unexpected minerals and it smells peculiarly sweet and sharp. The digger-pack have stopped to discuss. They are all stressed; there must be pressure on them. No-dog will choose to live in that cloying network. I wonder how far they got before they realised. One dog is terrified; she must have been in charge of selecting the site.

I follow my nose to the wild. There is some in the compound, there are beasts in here for the providers to manage. I have never smelled so many things I didn’t recognise. I can’t help but leap forward into that miasma. I roll in the plants until I cannot tell which scents are mine, which are the grass, and which are other animals. This wild is not huge. We went for an outing with creche a few days ago. There is a warning wall, marking where we cannot leave. I found it on our trip when tracking an animal that I have not yet encountered but, I know eats seeds, lives in fear and moves fast. I was not paying attention to my eyes and almost ran into the wall. We rarely use physical barriers on World except to keep hyenas out. The scent barrier between Set and Rise could be smelled from days away. All the high-notches on both sides would scent-mark along the barrier every day in the Set and Rise hunting-degrees^. I sometimes imagine what you could smell from the Pack-rift. The walls are to keep us safe from all the horrid creatures out there: tortoises that are big enough to crush a Pack Guider^, crows with machines (how did they get them if we only just arrived?), monkeys who stand tall, creatures from the big-saltwater and worse. They all sound more horrific than anything I can imagine.

I distract myself from the frightening creatures beyond the wall by tracking, in turn, each of the dogs who were on the trip. As I am following Tenacious Runt’s scent as he played with Thoughtful Runt amongst the trees, I catch the scent of some kind of plant I have never smelled before. The clean, high smell is shining through the mixture of plants, animals and dogs. I stretch my nose as high as I can to capture it. I head away from where we played and further into the little-wild. I stop, sniff, follow and repeat. Before I know what is happening, I am running, following this unique scent. I dodge big undergrowth and force myself through anything else. I look forward to returning later and stopping for some of these other scents, but right now – I have to know.

I don’t know how long I ran and searched but eventually I find myself at the bottom of a tree. The scent is coming from up in the branches. I place my paws as far up the trunk as I can. Yes! It is up there. It is not a climbing-tree as grows on World; the trunk is steep, the bark is thick but comes away under my paws as I stretch my back. I lift my nose to establish if there is anything nearby that would help. Not far away, there is a slanted tree. Not quite what I climbed before but I will try. Who knows, maybe with these demon-monkeys to deal with we will need to start climbing! I launch myself towards a low fork that I could stand on. I scrabble on the bark and land amid a puff of fear, bringing down leaves and bark. I shake and circle round to tackle the problem afresh.

If I approach from the other side, there is a bit of a purchase on the next tree. I reposition and launch myself. I manage to get my forepaws into the fork and dig my hind claws into the trunk under the bark and push. I get to the fork. I have no plan from here. The nearest branches will take my weight, but I am not sure how to get to the straight tree with the smell. I strike out at random and, as I progress, just make every decision on what gets me closer. We are not meant to be in trees, most dogs would have stopped when there were no climbing-trees. I want the scent. I need to know what it is. I am the only dog conducting research at the moment, the scientists are digging and fabricating new research suites. I will find out about this new flora. As I climb, the whole scentscape changes, it is fascinating. I try to be more consistent and find myself close enough to make the tree I want. I look down.

I don’t know if a dog has ever been this high up. I feel sick and unbalanced. I push my belly to the branch. I can re-trace my path with my nose, but I do not think I could make all the jumps back, especially now I am aware of the height. I turn to the other tree. I see some blue. The scent is much clearer, and I am beginning to collect the notes, sweet, mellow, delicate but with acidic trilling. This plant is dry. Its scent would be unleashed in rain. I am going to try and get across to the branch. It is good and strong. I will figure out how to get down once I have fully investigated. I step back, brace and throw myself with all of my strength.

I did not want to jump short. I did not. I jumped too far, I saw the blue of the flower as I hit another branch beyond it and smelt it fall away as the ground came up quickly, smelling of leaf mould and rodents’ fear. I don’t stop falling at the ground. The dark ground swallows me up. I roll straight onto my feet, prepared to deal with whatever is coming next. I look up and see the tree and the branch and the broken branches and scratches in the bark that show my descent. I can smell the tree screaming in protest. I can easily climb out of the hole but as the leaves that fell with me settle, I smell something that is so out of place I stop in my tracks, ears forward, alert, desperately seeking confirmation. Soil. I can smell Soil, who cared for Pack when we weren’t ready. Soil who makes sure that Runts like me are always given what they need to serve Pack.

There is a small, shoddily dug tunnel to my right. The earth is recently turned, and the leaves and forest and animals are all clamouring for my attention. But it is there, a tiny whiff of comfort, of den, of safety, stronger when I face the shabby tunnel. I head down the tunnel towards the smell. There is no maze, no wondering where to go, there is a single track, dug by a Rise dog, I think. Not a digger by Service though. I visited ancient tunnels on the World and a digger came to talk to us. This tunnel has not been planned or dug with care. There is a lot of loose dirt in the tunnel. The Soil is getting stronger. I am small (likely, always will be) and I can mostly wiggle through without having to dig. I am no digger. I don’t want to make it worse.

When I reach a point where I have to dig, I think about going back. I am not worried about being lost; I haven’t been scent-masking, any-dog could track me. I will follow my track back to creche when I have found out about this Soil.  I try some tentative digging. The earth is piled loosely, like backfill, as I understand it. Once I have broken through the pile, the tunnel is wider on the other side. Several dogs could stand in this space. It radiates Soil, there is a thin layer of Soil on top of the soil of this world. I can’t help it. I can tell it’s dispersing and being lost to this world. I roll in it, completely covering myself with Soil and thoughts of World. It feels unbelievably decadent, I don’t know any dogs who have even sniffed their comfort-units yet. Every-dog is so worried we will never smell World again. I will return to World someday, as a great scent-scientist.

The smell of Soil continues down the passage and, even though it looks like it’ll be harder going for a bit, I think how lucky I feel now. What if there is more? If I don’t take advantage of it, then it’ll just join this soil and no-dog will ever know it was here. Plus, it’s a free pass to roll in Soil. I start to push a little earth out of the way to get through the next part of the tunnel. I can definitely smell Rise now, four individuals, all mid-rank, maybe some are notched but none of them are young. If other dogs have been here, leaving Soil, then this place must have some use, maybe it is a secret den! I proceed with caution for a while, in case these dogs are nearby. More effort in understanding the scents, tells me they haven’t been here recently. The scent is fading, maybe a sixteenth-season, the first sixteenth we were here.

The way is particularly blocked here, and I spend a moment considering whether it is worth continuing. I’ll probably be in trouble (though Kind Set is fond of me and I get away with more than many other Runts). It’s going to be no worse if it is for being a bit later. I’m interested in what special place might be just on the other side of this dirt. I scrape away at the top of the tunnel, suddenly everything shifts and falls back. This tunnel is sloping up to the surface. Great! I can walk back on the surface if I can get back to the tree with the blue flower. The passage is open and free. I can smell the air.

I’ve been down here longer than I thought; night smells flood me as the way is cleared. I clamber to the surface as quickly as possible. As I climb free of this world’s soil, I am shocked to smell no-dog but a tiny hint of the Rise pack that passed a sixteenth-season^ ago. I raise my nose to the sky and can just about make out a direction for them over the saltiness that permeates the air here. That’s for another day. I will come back and investigate. I could bring Still Runt with me. It is night, but on this world that does not mean dark – there is an enormous Sun-Runt in the sky, lighting up the night. I cannot smell, hear or see anything I recognise. I decide to follow the tunnel back in the direction it came from.

As I start to walk, I realise that I might be in more trouble than usual. I am not worried about being lost; Pack will come for me. I will be brought to den and then face whatever I must. I am wondering what my Soil Parents will say, what those who whelped me would do, when I hit something I cannot smell or see. I roll to my feet and get low, silent to all senses. I wait. There is nothing. No animal, or dog is apparent to any of my senses. I recommence my journey to den, but cautiously. I cannot proceed. I can travel to my Set and Rise, but I cannot go forward. Something is stopping me.

All at once, I realise that, somehow, I am Outside the compound. I panic and run up and down yelping and whimpering. I am alone. I am on the wrong side – outside of Pack. They might search, but they won’t find me.

I am surprised by how quickly my panic recedes. I have not found any bond-mates (of course), I have only known my current Soil Parents for an eighth-season, I have moved on from my whelpers. If I was ever going to get lost, now is the time.

No! it is not safe alone, for an adult dog. No warrior would be alone, and I am only a scientist-hopeful. I’ve not even been to training. As the wave of panic rises in me again, I catch a sparkling new scent.

The wave of panic breaks, leaving curiosity and resolve. I can’t go back. There’s so much to smell. If I stay to the forests, then I don’t think I’ll meet any frightening other-worlders. They are in compounds too. I will learn about the forest and, when I find a way to get back to Pack, I will be the most advanced scientist of scent on this world!