I wake enrobed in the scent of Pack. I ignore the ache of knowing we will return to the rest of Pack today. I make the most of the last Rise. It is chill this far North^, but we are snug and warm in a natural den-cave in the foothills of the Great Soil Spots. We have been enveloped in each other for over a twentieth^. Here we cannot smell the alien beings who lived on World for 10 days, nearly a cycle ago. We cannot see anything that is not of-World or have to endure the kenopsic, eerie quiet that so many settlements have become.

This long-trip was recommended by All-Pack Guider^ No-Eyes First Eyes Runt^ Rise herself. She thought we and the other research-pack guiders deserved to feel like normal dogs for a bit when communication opened while she found out about the situation on each world. The urgency to discover more about other species has gone. What we have found out is useful on every world, but we do not yet know what we need to do to help All-Pack.

I let my nose focus^ on Swift. She smells different at Rise. A slight tang to her scent that is enhanced by the freshness of dew. As with the trauma to World, the trauma to Swift has been easy to forget, away from Pack. We have run together. We experimented with swimming together. We have provided together. We have stayed up to nadir and sometimes even Rise, talking about everything but what has happened to World. We have explored natural caves and found remnants of other mate-bonded who have been here and shared their provision and heat (even Heat). It has been a beautiful experience. Now it is coming to a close. We have eaten Set most days, but I feel like providing for my dappled souls. Neither has stirred. I can bring a selection of rodents to tempt the palate without sitting too heavily on the Set provision we have not yet expelled.

I stalk between the pine trees keeping my nose down. Swift loves stoat^, which should be easy to acquire since their musky stink is startlingly in contrast to the spicy undergrowth. I let my mind wander as I catch and dispatch some fat, slow, pine mice and a Wilderness rat. I think about what we are returning to. I find myself getting excited as I think about catching up with whatever research Scrawny and Silky have managed (I have asked Silky to keep a nose on Scrawny – despite his notches he is not a guider). It has been an earthy^-rich time, but life must continue, and Pack still needs our Service. I am looking forward to picking buzz-research back up and catching up with Curly Rise and her pack’s research. All-Pack Guider No-Eyes First Eyes Runt Rise has suggested we could come to HQ for a twentieth to learn how the high-notches are operating at the moment.

I unearth a sleeping stoat and her pups and make them prey. Swift will have more than enough. Maybe we can have a bite of provision on the journey back to Pack, it might allow us to not stop for an extra day^. I begin my last return to this den, at least for a cycle or two, at a relaxed pace. I smell turned Soil. Hardly unusual but somehow seeming out of place. I detour slightly to find a patch of Soil that has been not just dug but neatly backfilled and carefully compacted. There is no scent of an animal which means a scent-masked dog dug this hole. The only dogs for days are the three of us. Why would either Swift or Fierce scent-mask on this long-trip? We have been as close as bond-mates can be. Any barriers we might have still had have been dug over and compacted just like this Soil.

In a few heartbeats, I have removed all the previously disturbed Soil and find nothing. It is too small a cache to have been for provision or a weapon or anything worth caching. I sniff the dirt and scratch the undug base of the cache. I do not release anything more sinister than the scent of care; it’s just Soil. I backfill and compact it again, with considerably less care than the last dog to have done so. I was not scent masked at any point during this, so I piss onto the patch and all signs of disturbance are gone. Any dog returning will assume a dog relieved themselves unknowing of the mysterious shallow cache that was once here.

I go back to the natural den and find both of my bond-notch-whelp-mates clearing, loading cache pouches and turning our temporary caches to ensure that we’ve not left any viable provision for the journey to Pack. They have smelled me coming and what I bring. They hurry to the end of their tasks and we gather to share a Rise feed.

“What tender little stoat morsels! Both of you should have at least one.” Swift seems jovial and strong, ready for the journey. The Rise tang in her is dissipating; she smells well. I had thought she would be at least melancholic about the prospect of returning to Pack and the wounds in it. I am mostly pleased, but part of me wanted to share my own melancholia.

“I’m all good, I have a pine rat.” Fierce playfully shakes it in her jaws as though it were prey not provision. She play-growls and Swift and she start to pounce around each other, play-bowing and yipping. I am the only one sad to go. They tumble into me and I try to play-growl but I have too much tension and it sounds like a real growl and they both stop.

( Sorry, that came out wrong, )

( We know, ) Fierce replies for them both, ( it’s just hard to get excited again after a drenching in adrenaline^. )

( Let’s get fed and get gone. I feel Pack calling. I feel ready to fully return to Service and show Pack how useful I can be. ) Swift’s renewed fervour for Service feels familiar but changed from the dog I was first-notched with. Fierce is obviously feeling giddy and determined to make the most of her last few degrees^ of not serving.

“Why don’t we go and find Swift one more stoat before we go?” She is still bouncy and silly. Swift chucks,

“I couldn’t eat another today seeing as neither of ye shared my provision. Besides, I know I can still get a bit slow towards the end of the day and let’s not make the journey any longer than it needs to be.” Swift is playful but there is a subtle note of urgency in her scent.

“Besides,” I add, “there is some-dog about. I found a really shallow cache not too far away but whoever used it has been scent-masked and tried to hide it.” They both look incredulous.

“That’s probably just a hole dug by something that got back-filled by the weather or a shift in Soil. If it doesn’t smell of dogs and we are not exactly surrounded by them – why would it be a dog?” Fierce is a logical dog and I feel foolish for being too prepared to smell a mystery. I need to get back to Service too.

We spent the rest of our Rise chatting about what could have caused the back-filled hole. It is a fun game, coming up with all the ways those things could have come to be. We have been trotting. I feel more like a 4-notched warrior already. This kind of chat is the centre of every good Service-pack. We had left 5 days to get back, but we are closer to Pack than our last stop on the way out already. As the sun approaches zenith, chat begins to drift onto Pack issues.

“I wonder what research Scrawny has managed to complete.” Says Fierce, glancing at Swift.

“I miss the dog.” Even I am surprised that I am saying it, “Didn’t expect to but that’s just the way it has turned out.”

“He’s pack,” mutters Swift.

“Yes, I know, just I didn’t think that a pack-bond whelped of necessity would be as powerful as that.”

“However we feel about him, I am looking forward to finding out if he can get the buzzer-Sentinel to do anything else. Cracking the technology will be a big help to Pack on other worlds. The sooner we can defeat the others on all worlds the better.” Fierce is getting fired up, feeling the biting of the human-metal-vine in her neck and smelling the non-sentient dogs and Wilful eating the buzzer-paste. The memories are strong and hot.

“Do we need to defeat them? Now World is safe, can’t we just bring dogs back to World and Soil and be safe as we were before?” Swift is talking quietly and a little breathlessly, she swaps to bond-communication. ( Can’t we just be Soil-dogs and let the others be whatever they are? )

( I am sure All-Pack Guider No Eyes First Eyes Runt Rise has a plan for how to get the other dogs to Soil and World. Communication opened up as expected, so there must be transport between worlds soon. ) If any-dog knows what is going on and who has planned for every eventuality, it is All-Pack Guider No Eyes First Eyes Runt Rise.

( All All-Pack knew about communication opening, but we do not know when this transport is meant to be happening. The better for Soil-dogs on any world being able to defend themselves against these monsters. ) Fierce is still full of rage and her thoughts are snarling.

( All-Pack Guider No Eyes First Eyes Runt Rise probably has an idea of when, or will at least be given warning. That seems to be how this works. She is doing the best thing for All-Pack by keeping us serving hard, together we will serve Pack and eventually all dogs will be with Soil, where they belong. )

We lapse into silence and focus on getting back to Pack. World suddenly seems very empty.