I wake under the den-canopy I now share with Late First Eyes Runt^. She has pissed in the night and we are both wet. She is whimpering her discomfort. I jump up, feeling even more unclean than I do from living in a human-den. I am collecting data to show Pack I am useful. I will share what I have learned about humans from my studies. If I have correctly tracked time, then communication will open soon. All dogs on all worlds will be happy for what I have put myself through. First, I must clean piss off us both.

Late First Eyes Runt still will not be parked and trails me through the settlement. Late First Eyes Runt is growing large now. She is a small dog not a pup. She still makes everything harder but at least she can keep up. She was there the day I found the provision-store. The structure had giant Wilderness-chambers full of all sorts of provision, even dangling from the roof. Much of it was spoiled, but some was good. I moved it to the small Wilderness-cache in the den. We are still eating our way through it. She was with me the day I found the trail of a human-made dog who had passed through the settlement. He stood outside our den. That night we moved up to Late First Eyes Runt’s preferred den with a portal cover. I close it overnight and deep-sleep safe from intruders.

I smell this dog every day now. There are other individuals that visit at night. They, like Late First Eyes Runt, will eat bad provision. They followed in my wake and took rotten bits I discarded. I hope they get sick and fear this place. But I know why they return here. They do not know they were abandoned. They do not know how to hunt. They are, none of them, very well. The humans who made them just left them here. Like their tame-wilds and their provision-store and their huge dens. They did not matter to humans.

Late First Eyes Runt starts squeaking. I am grooming her violently as I think of humans. They do not care for Pack. I hate my pack of two (I do not know who I hate more, the made-runt or the runt-maker) but I care for it. The Wilderness-cache is nearly empty. I will complete one more day of data collection then head back to HQ. This is not a military settlement, so I have little by way of weaponry. But I have gained much knowledge about how they structure their dens and settlements. I have understanding of some of their technology. The use of portal-covers alone will be invaluable to Pack. I will bring a few human artefacts I think would be of use. In the huge Wilderness-cache there were lots of metal claws and jaws and sharp leaves sprouting from short branches. Late First Eyes Runt has a gash on her foreleg (that she is still chewing at) from the leaf I carefully brought back to den and put higher than I thought she could reach.

What have I found useful? They have so many containers of various materials. They can carry so many substances. They have stiff cache-pouches that a dog would find difficult to carry for any length of time. I have found them containing water in tame-wilds. If they could be modified for carrying, then they would be vitally useful to Pack. There is one I think I could carry if I loop it off my cache-pouch strap. It’s made of the stiff-but-flexible, chemical-compound^ they use for everything. It has a smaller opening than others I have found, but it has a tail-like spout. It can be tipped and give a convenient stream of water. I used it to clean Late First Eyes Runt once, when I did not have the energy to do it myself.

They have a wide array of items fabricated using artificial hides that all smell and behave differently. I have used them to drag provision to our Wilderness-cache and made a canopy-shelter for Late First Eyes Runt when she was crying about the rain while I investigated tame-wilds. They also fabricate a whole range of incredibly soft things that hoard scents of humans and animals who have slept on them. It’s not a short journey back to HQ. I can only take a few items to show what potential I have found. I put my cache-pouch strap through the hard carrying-loop of the spout-pouch. The sharp-metal-leaf will go inside. I have a reasonable sized piece of made-hide that smells of the human pup who lived here. I have found liquid containers in many altitude-caches. They just need to be chewed to release their water. I might put one in my cache-pouch. It might have other applications. The humans certainly put all sorts of liquids in them. Only some are palatable.

I might as well go into the settlement and check if there is anything to improve my trove. Late First Eyes Runt is clean and whining. I have, after much effort, taught her how to access the Wilderness-cache on her own but she still cannot open portal-covers. I use my (now well-practised) knack to release her. She runs into the tame-wild. She relieves herself closer to the portal than I would like. She goes to the Wilderness-cache and removes some provision to warm and become easier to eat. She ate many, very cold items until she got some provision stuck to her lips. Her panicked yips were muffled by the stuck provision. It fell on its own before I was able to corner her to help. Now she waits a little at least.

I stretch and decide to stroll the settlement perimeter. Late First Eyes Runt will catch up when she is ready. She is now able to track me. I follow the black-path, down the hill into the main bulk of structures. There are very few portals I haven’t managed to get through. There are some individual den-structures I haven’t managed. They are largely similar once you can categorise human artefacts. It is no loss to not have smelled within every den-structure. There is one structure, however, that is large and has so many scents it must be a communal place. A human provisioning-spot maybe? There are free-standing wooden platforms outside (there are so many types of platforms humans have in every chamber). Standing on one, I can see in through the solid-air wall-panels. It is dim inside, for a human structure. There are lots of the “basic” platforms. I think humans are not content to rest on the floor (why would they be?!). They fabricate varied wooden platforms to rest on. I guess they miss the branches they should be in.

This structure has eluded each pass I have made of the settlement. I want to crack it today. To complete my research. If I had a sling, I might be able to break through the wall or climb up maybe there is an entrance higher up. Maybe I could make a sling. I’m not a fabricator for sure, but I do have materials to make something. I hear shattering and a yelp. I break into a run. How could I be so complacent? Why did I think that she could be left alone for a few moments?

I make it into the tame-wild. I observe Late First Eyes Runt shuddering, striped all over, holding her frozen piece of provision, mane up and growling at a bush. All I can smell is her defensiveness and her desire to be left alone. I approach her. She does not show she has noticed me by any sense. Once I am next to her, she drops her provision and dives headlong into the bush. I smell, as she does, there is a dog there. A human-made, unintelligent dog. There is screeching, snarling, snapping. The two of them fall out of the bush. Late First Eyes Runt is holding the human-made-dog’s tail and shaking her head. I leap in and pin her. She doesn’t know she is attacking some-dog who knows as little as she does about appropriate provision behaviour.

I put my other paw on the back of this human-made-dog and pin it. He obeys immediately. He has no strength to defy me, but he scents relieved. He wants some… thing to guide him. I release Late First Eyes Runt. She runs to her mangled provision and starts to chew it. She growls if she notices him looking at it. He barks incessantly at me and her and it. I drag him away and let her finish.

He is tiny, smaller than a creche-pup. He is plain white. Even No-Spots Rise has more variety than this thing. His coat is long and matted. It is over his eyes. His hind-quarters are a mess of shit and hair. This is not a dog designed to live wild. What did humans do to him? He eventually stops barking and jumping. I put him into a submissive pose. I take my paw off him and he stands, so I replace it. I do this 4 times before he waits down when I remove my paw. So, he is amenable to training. I know he must be hungry to think he rob even a made-runt. I go to the Wilderness-cache and pull out a small chunk of provision. I show his nose it’s there, then walk to the far end of the tame-wild and give it to him.

While he is struggling with the cold, hard provision, I return to Late First Eyes Runt and check her. She is cut all over. She has a sharp piece of solid-air sticking out of her back. I carefully grab it with my teeth through my lip and remove it. I use the spout-pouch to rinse it. She is wincing and yelping and jumping away. I hold her still while I look over the rest of the cuts. They are mostly superficial. She’ll be fine. I go to where her blood has mixed with a bit from the tiny human-made-dog. There had been a small, solid-air provision-den here. The invisible scent barriers contained a heady, earthy melange within. It was full of plants swollen with palatable fruits over the hotter, longer days. The den is gone. There are broken pieces of solid-air everywhere. They must have bumped into it while fighting. And it broke.

I gather a heavy, human-made twig from the collection around the tame-wild. Humans have sturdy, regular twigs that bloom with metal into a vast array of different shapes. Many humans keep them in a cache in single-chamber, tame-wild dens. There is an artificial vine here too. I drag one end of the vine and throw the twig into my cache-pouch. Late First Eyes Runt, still chittering but happy to leave, comes with me into the settlement proper.

We get back to the mysterious impenetrable structure. I wind the vine round the heavy twig. I swing my makeshift sling at the solid-air wall-panel. There is a crashing louder than thunder. Thorns of the solid-air rain down. Late First Eyes Runt hides under a platform. There is a jagged hole. It is not big enough for me, but Late First Eyes Runt would fit. If only she would do anything I asked. I hear her growling. Over the roiling, stale stench that assaults me from the hole, I smell her fear and mistrust. Then I smell the little, white, matted dog. He is sitting under a separate platform, ears forward, wagging, licking his mouth. He considers us both for a few moments. Then he walks over and sits looking up at me. What does he want now? He play-bows at me. I ignore it, trying to figure out what I should do next. He is winded by Late First Eyes Runt as she dives over to him and knocks him off his feet.

He rolls and is on his feet. They start charging all over the tame-wild together, excitedly yipping and wagging. I haul the heavy twig back and throw it again. And again. It breaks a bigger hole. I can get in. I check the two of them. The little dog is grey from Late First Eyes Runt’s blood but neither seems to care. She has mostly stopped bleeding. Just the one that had the solid-air in on her back still oozes. I leave them to it, relieved I do not have to worry too much about her while she is occupied. She only follows me because she is bored. I enter the mysterious den. It smells of humans and dogs and old provision and smoke and an unfamiliar sour-rich, sweet-tangy smell like rotting fruit. It permeates everything.

Having entered all the chambers, I have established that I am not sure what this place is for. There are many platforms, small and large. I can smell so many of the, now familiar, scents of human life: chemicals for humans and chemicals for things. I find a stiff cache-pouch of water with a stick that must be related to the shrub-stick Vicious Set found all that time ago. It is wet. It has long, wet, curled vines attached to one end. It reeks of things-chemicals.

In the canopy-dens there are all the usual things I associate with humans. The water-ditch that stinks of things-chemicals but has an undertone of urea and faeces. Sleeping-canopies. Assortments of made-hide as they keep in their private dens. Nothing I would not expect to find. I descend to find Late First Eyes Runt and her new pack padding round the large chamber, sniffing things. This spotless dog, grey and grubby, knows his way around this place. He has been here with humans. He goes to a barrier-wall that separates the room at dog-height from the source of this place’s peculiar odours. He puts his paws up against it and starts to whine. Hearing the opportunity to demand, Late First Eyes Runt joins him. They both whimper. This dog is used to a human providing for him. He doesn’t know they are gone. A breeze of pity blows over me.

I leap onto the dividing-wall. It is wide enough to walk along. There are solid-air containers on the top of the wall. If I knock them off, they will break. They will release whatever is inside. It seems so very human to make something dangerous to open. I have had enough cuts to deal with for the day. I ask them to back up. Then I growl. Spotless hides under the platform where he barks at me. Late First Eyes Runt does not back away, just whines and walks in circles. I try to block her. Eventually, I walk into the next chamber. She follows. As she does. When she is beyond the portal-cover, I close it. She instantly starts howling. Spotless starts yapping. I jump back up and push all three containers over the edge. One smashes completely. One throws off thorns of solid-air but is still whole. The last seems to activate some mechanism whereby one section folds back and disgorges its contents.

At the crashes, Late First Eyes Runt ups her noise again. I sniff the spilled contents. They seem to be provision. They are salty and highly flavoured, but provision, nonetheless. Spotless eats a few that rolled to his hiding place. He seems familiar with them. I guess they are fine. I release Late First Eyes Runt. She instantly stops crying and runs, nose down, to the mess of nuts (I think, before humans altered them) and some kind of puffy, greasy, salty, spicy smelling items. She starts to gorge. Once she is eating, Spotless comes out from under the platform and helps himself. I eat a few nuts but I am so thirsty in heartbeats I do not continue. Late First Eyes Runt has eaten half a littersworth^ of puffy flowers. She is whimpering and pawing at her mouth. Spotless happily chomps the rest as her distress grows. She starts to back up. She is looking for water. I have to shove her back out the hole, so she doesn’t drink the tainted, vine-stick water. There is a little-water in the tame-wild. She drinks from it, disturbing some aquatic birds who fly off squawking. She vomits and shakes, looking to me.

Once she has vomited a few more times, she seems pretty chirpy and eager to re-enter the den. Over her vomit and the spice in it, I can smell the hint of another dog. Not the whispers^ left everywhere in this communal-human-den, but the current presence of a living dog. Well, they have been hiding and eating what I don’t cache for a while. No doubt this dog will come in after we leave and eat whatever Spotless leaves them. Late First Eyes Runt re-enters, leaping through the wall-panel with ease. She is getting bigger. She also seems to have better control of her misshapen limbs. She delicately eats just the nuts. Spotless is, again, putting his paws up against the wall. I leap on top. He might be an non-intelligent animal, but he knows this place better than I. There are a series of metal-branch-levers sprouting from the far side of the wall. I push one experimentally. The sour-sweet smell intensifies as liquid pours out of a spout. It smells disgusting. After it runs a few heartbeats, it smells appetising. Particularly after all this salt. Spotless yaps and focus-points to a mechanism to one side. There seems to be an unusual portal-cover.

I attempt to open it but cannot get my nose in. As I nudge it, a section of wall lifts and the portal-cover swings open without further mechanism. Oh, that was surprisingly easy. He rushes through, followed by Late First Eyes Runt. They lap at the liquid on the floor. Apparently, she does not learn. It can’t be too bad. Spotless seems happy to drink it. If it is slightly toxic, hopefully she will learn some caution when eating unknown provision.

If I push the lever down far enough, it stays down. The liquid pours in a constant stream. I taste a little. It is sweet and bitter and stale, but quite refreshing. I take a few mouthfuls. Sniffing down at the two small, unknowing dogs (one of whom I made), think I should stop this. Even if Spotless is confident of this liquid, it still might make us all sick. I stop the stream. They lap up what is left. I stroll down the wall and sniff the other items. There are a number of solid-air containers with sickly sweet and spicy-tingling scented liquids. I will investigate those if I do not have Late First Eyes Runt to contend with. Maybe I can park her with Spotless tomorrow. I will delay setting off one more day to get a clear idea of what this is and if there are things here Pack could use.

I jump out the hole. As I land, I stagger a little but quickly right myself. Both Spotless and Late First Eyes Runt follow me, somewhat less gracefully. Oh, what did we eat? So stupid to trust this idiot dog to show me what is palatable and potable. I strike out for our den. We can have a brief sleep and the (at this point never-ending) day here will still be happening. I’ll then prepare to leave. If I am lucky, she will sleep longer, and I can return to investigate those containers. We enter the den, the little ones tottering most of the way. As I guide them to our den, I feel a glow of warmth, a little like Pack, but for these two, who could never understand a pack-bond, let alone create one. I help Late First Eyes Runt up to our den-chamber. Spotless trots over to the sleeping-canopy and climbs onto it. I go underneath, to where we sleep. Late First Eyes Runt comes with me, sits and whimpers. I feel the illusion of Pack crumble. I am too tired to deal with this. I boost her onto the sleeping-canopy and curl up next to them both. They are already sleeping.