I wake. Leaf-smell still stings in my nose. Apparently other packs have eventually acclimatised to the pervading scents of the Worlds they now live on. Pack on “Sweet-World” needed seclusion to recover but they did adjust. But somehow the Leaf-World continues to impact every-dog every day. Being reminded every cent^ that we’re not on World is taking its toll on the already broken morale of Leaf-Pack. If we don’t find a way out in the next sixteenth^, no-dog could be blamed for what will certainly happen next. Well, no ordinary dog. There are dogs like Leaf-Pack Guider^ Large First Eyes Rise who will have to answer to Soil if things continue.

It all rests on Slender. He is trying to find out how the barriers can be crossed. He has heard camouflaged references. One 4-Notch said to his 3-Notch bond-mate last twentieth, that “it was fortunate the biggest issue of barriers was on World where there was plenty available”. So, we know it is something abundant on World but not on other worlds. Or maybe we haven’t found an equivalent on any other world yet. It is not much to go on. We have quietly taken items from stores and applying them to the barrier. Nothing seems to serve. After scrabbling back what we can of multiple limited supplies too many times, we have given up until we have another clue. No QPG^ will willingly waste limited stock. I go to Stores, more out of habit than anything. We prepped what we had last Set and the earliest a provision-pack will be back is this Set. They go for two or three days at a time and return with very little.

The horror of the worst of dog behaviour has become normal. None of our pack are surprised by dead pups, of all kinds. Runts^ who can’t run have been abandoned all over our territory. No-dog is hiding or trying to conceal this is happening. Paranoia runs rife; any dog who has strength is suspected of storing provision. Rough First Eyes kept Two-legs Runt Leaf with her, rather than sending her to creche with her litter-mates after the loss of both Lopsided Runt Leaf and Stumpy Runt Leaf who each Walked in their first twentieth in creche. Now she has three more Runts who were left by her stores. Her quarter-pack are training these Runts and trying to ensure they are cared for. When QPGs are being Soil parents, we know things have gone wrong. Direct and Even have their own collection of Runts. The QPG coalition decided any abandoned Runts will be taken to either of those Stores. We need to minimise unpredictable elements where we will risk the breach. Also, if we are caught, the Runts will be safe.

At the stores, I hear and smell Masculine, Furtive and Mellow preparing short narrow rollers to make pup-run-rigs. The smell of stripped bark still tingles fresh in my nose despite over a cycle surrounded by it. The many run-rigs we made are all gone. When there is a chance, we fabricate more.

Bushy is approaching. She smells too calm. The lack of perceptible emotion in a stealth-dog passing through crowded areas means big news. All settlements are crowded. Any-dog not a provider, Soil parent or quarter-dog is not expected to serve with so little provision. Some warriors (and I assume all stealth-warriors) are still serving. They spend most of their days in communal areas breaking up fights and trying to prevent the worst not-for-Pack behaviours.

Slender and Broad both appear from wherever they each were. They have noticed the scent-silence approaching and are intrigued.

( What now? ) Broad has taken a turn for the morose in the last twentieth to littersworth^ of days. Some part of him has given up. He already trusted Pack even less than I did. He is defeated. None of that is helped by him barely eating any provision to feed some of the dogs who need it more. He doesn’t even target his pack-communication at me and exclude Slender anymore. Bushy approaches and walks straight beyond us. We fall into step as a pack. As she travels into the little-wild, now bereft of any edible plant or animal life. Just the pungent trees with their curling bark and miasma.

She sits. I am sure she could pack-communicate with us, but she never has. I don’t understand how she could be denning with us all this time and not have slipped and revealed some kind of pack-bond. Slender has taught me ways to be opaque in the pack-bond to prevent her knowing our agreement but I would not be surprised if she knew. I don’t know where her, or any dogs’ loyalties lie now.

“Last night a Soil parent was found eating a Runt.” When I thought there was no more potential for horror, this happens. We all recoil. Broad retches. Bushy lets us all feel our own emotions. “She has been deemed to be a danger to Pack.” At the core of the horror a tiny petal of hope unfurls. “She is to be de-notched and exiled.” I can feel Broad slam up his barriers and detect Slender far more calmly let his shut. There is no way that Bushy could not know.

“Poor dog, she must have been desperate. I cannot imagine how hungry a Soil parent would have to be to do that.” Bushy scents disgust at my comment. She always finds my empathy for dogs forced into behaving not-for-Pack, confusing. I feel like asking any questions would only further highlight what information I really want. I hope that Bushy will continue in her own time.

“There will be a delay to be able to open a portal. It will be done away from dogs so that no-dog gets any ideas. Until then, she is in a specially-dug den and under guard. Slender and Mane Runt will need to take some guard duty. There are fears warriors could potentially try to make her runt. Otherwise, nothing to report. Just the worst horror I have ever heard has happened.”

“Will we still have plenty of dogs here to guard? We don’t have much, but controlling where that goes is all we have left to keep us from total loss of Pack-cohesion.” Broad is nervous that he is not in the condition to help. His skin hangs off his sturdy frame and his tail is permanently drooped.

“We will have some. The warriors posted here will remain. I will stay to ensure they behave for-Pack. It should only be for a few days. I’ll make sure we have reliable warriors on when Trustworthy gets back with whatever provision he has found.” I didn’t think there would be a mission more important to Pack than keeping Stores safe, but Pack Guiders must be worried about wide-spread not-for-Pack behaviour.

“Well I suppose I should go and report.” Slender sets off.

“Find Genial Set. He’s in HQ. Take Mane Runt with you.” As he leaves, she calls to him casually, “Make sure you keep your ears and nose open. Any information could be helpful to alleviate this situation.” She says what I was too frightened to pack-communicate to him. What does she know? Is it nothing and I am paranoid? Or does she know and support us? Or does she know and is trying to catch us out? I am so confused. I can barely keep my thoughts together with no provision, little sleep, never-ending headache and perpetual anxiety. I often step back from what I am doing and wonder how I got there. I wonder what that Soil parent thought when she stepped back.

“I’ll find out what we can do to prepare for Trustworthy’s return.” Broad leaves. He is not able to hide his disgust. I can’t sense a hint of hope Slender may get some useful information. Bushy and I are left. I do not know what would smell suspicious to her anymore. I’m not sure what I can say. She shakes all over.

“How could any dog, let alone a Soil parent, prey on a pup of any kind, let alone one they care for as their Service?” This argument is a good distraction. Is she fabricating it? We have had it so often that we don’t need to think to have it. I settle into my standard plea for empathy,

“Any dog hungry enough will do anything. Haven’t you witnessed enough horrors in the last cycle to empathise with some-dog behaving out of character?”

“It is not just out of character but out of species! If we are going to behave like that then we might as well let the other species eat us. We are not behaving like sentient animals. Provision does not prey on their pups.” Bushy’s disgust chokes the air.

“Do we know she made-prey of the Runt? She ate it,” my empathy doesn’t stop my stomach from rebelling and my retching, “but that doesn’t mean she made it prey. Can you guarantee you would not eat any carcass you found right now?”

“Not if it was a dog. Not if it was one of my pack. No, I would not eat a pup under any circumstances.”

“You are lucky to have that level of confidence in that… I don’t know what I would do if I was more confused about this situation. If I felt I was being lied to by Pack. I hope some-dog is kind to her.”

“I can feel you wanting to be that dog. You’ll have to persuade Slender or Mane Runt to be kind on your behalf. I certainly won’t be. No matter how desperate, there is no excuse to do something as vile as that. The sooner she is Outside the better. Pack will be safer.” She shakes herself as if trying to dislodge the thought of this dog within Pack.

“But will she be? It is not like before where she could quietly join the other Pack and still be a dog. Exile now is true exile. No contact with another dog for the rest of her life. Maybe Soil can reach out and let her Walk.”

“I’m not sure I approve of the old way. Exile should mean something. It was convenient of course, as a training exercise for stealth-dogs and an easy way to enter the other Pack but some dogs shouldn’t get a chance to hurt another Pack.”

“When I meet the dog who has done something so terrible they cannot ever be considered safe for any dog again – then I will agree. But I have never met an exiled dog who didn’t have some kind of terrible experience that shaped their behaviours and who would be safe for the right dogs.”

“Plenty of dogs have terrible experiences and behave for-Pack.” Not for the first time, I find myself wondering what she has survived.

“And there are plenty of reasons for that too. Good pack-bonds within their Service-pack. Correct Service. Good health. Disposition. Some dogs do not have some or all of those things that make Pack-life so natural to most dogs.” I realise this zeal and commitment to Pack is what Pack selects for in stealth-warriors. Just because her public character is open, kind and tolerant, does not mean that reflects anything she feels. I clearly perceive her. As a dog who has had difficult experiences, and found devotion of Pack at the centre of them all. How could she be at peace with things she has done if she sees every dog as equally valuable, no matter what they have done? I feel a gust of empathy and resolve to not have this conversation again with her. I don’t know what she has experienced, and I am unlikely to ever know.

“You can have none of those things and still behave like a real dog. It is hard, but it is always possible to control any urge and make the best decision for Pack.”

“Yes, it is hard.” She seems put off by my going limp in the conversation. She has developed a head of irritation and with no-dog to push back, she is full of impotent discomfort. She paces a few moments, then heads back to the Stores

“We might as well prep for Trustworthy”

I follow. Unsure if I have made the situation for Bushy worse. She is often the initiator of these debates. Maybe she needs to release emotion this way. Maybe I should try again. No, not today.

It is full night. Trustworthy and his pack didn’t return this Set. It may be fine. They may have found more viable provision, but it is taking a while to catch or transport it. Broad is despairing but I have some hope they will be back by tomorrow Set. He and I are denning. Bushy is taking the night shift. They are almost exclusively guarding not prepping shifts now. Slender is due back at nadir so I decided not to deep-sleep and can’t even sleep. Whether or not he has information, I want to be available for him when he gets back. Broad is deep-sleeping but has said he is happy for me to rouse him if anything needs his input. Feeling his huge lungs push his ribs through his skin and into my back is making me sadder and sadder. He is such a beautiful dog and such a good QPG. I wish I could make him feel like the perfect specimen he has always been rather than the physically and psychologically gaunt he feels.

I feel Slender coming. He is exhausted, but he has an idea to share. Are we finally getting out?

( My spots. You are welcome to den. We have missed you. ) We are still relatively loosely bonded for a den-pack (none of us are bond-mates) but the three of us have been intensely pack-communicating and having him far away has been harder than I anticipated. He enters. We nestle close behind Broad’s bulk.

“Sometimes quiet words are harder to intercept than pack-communication. I can’t risk any dog knowing I have passed this information on.” He vocalises so quietly that if Broad was awake, he still would not hear. I remain with my chin on my front paws, ears fully forward, and listening so intently that I have to relax to stop hearing my pulse over the barely perceptible words from Slender. “I think I have the answer. I’ll tell you what I heard. If you come to the same conclusion then I have discharged my promise and anything you chose to do with the information is your own matter.” I know he can feel the spike of disappointment in the pack-bond. I had been assuming that he was in our pack now, not just fulfilling one part of the mission then just turning his nose away. “I was guarding the unsafe dog. My guard-mate was switching (pack-dogs do not serve with each other) and they obviously thought that I knew everything they did. I ensured they still think I knew already. I didn’t draw attention to my interest. I don’t want any-dog to suspect me in all this. Milky Rise said to Cautious Set that he was looking forward to guarding duty being over, that it is making his skin crawl. Cautious Set replied that it wouldn’t be too long. She then said, ‘finding a dog to make that sacrifice for Pack is going to be difficult, I don’t envy any-dog trying to persuade a den now, even with this crime’.” He watches at me a moment and I try to think of anything any dog would be happy to give up at this point. Is it dog blood? No-dog has any to spare at the moment. WAIT – something that there is plenty of on World but limited supplies on the other worlds and one that would be hard to persuade a den to part with.

“It’s Soil?! Soil allows a dog to cross the barrier?” I try to keep my voice at the kind of whisper he can manage but my voice squeaks in my excitement.

“I think so. It might not be useful. But I am sure you can feed that information to your pack.”

“Thank you so much. You might have saved every-dog on Leaf-World.” I will wake Broad. I lean in to share my gratitude with Slender. I feel a splitting pack-scream. Slender startles (barely perceptible but there) and Broad snaps out of deep-sleep. He glances bewildered between us. Slender looks confused at me. They both think I screamed.

“It wasn’t me.” My pack-bond feels too tender to talk through. I reach out gently to the only other dog I have anything like a pack-bond with. Trustworthy and I don’t have a well-developed pack-bond but it has never fully collapsed. There is nothing. Like reaching out into empty space. I remain still to catch any hint of what that was.

The cents stretch. There is no further bond disturbance. There is no way to track an empty bond.

“Maybe we should try to sleep. The Rise will tell us what can be done.” I won’t tell Broad yet. I am sure Slender knows Broad is of-“my” pack. I don’t want to confirm those suspicions if he is not as in-pack as I had thought.