Darkness Falls by Erin Hunter Page A

wilderness. There were no low doghouses there, just grass growing long and wild. He could see the pups’ little snouts and whiskers twitching. They knew that someone was near, though they hadn’t spotted Lucky yet.
    Memories of Lucky’s encounter with the Fierce Dogs came back to him.
    They could tell I was in their den, even though I stood upwind of them .
    Did these pups share those sharp senses?
    Like some of the grown Fierce Dogs, they had glossy tan-and-brown fur with darker faces and light muzzles, but these were rounder in shape and less threatening. Soft-furred, long ears hung at the sides of their heads, quite unlike the high, pointed ears of the adult Fierce Dogs.
    Silently Lucky retraced his steps around the porch to where Mickey was waiting, out of earshot of the pups.
    â€œThere are three of them,” he told Mickey. “They’re all alone.”
    Mickey’s eyes were huge. “There’s something down there,” he whined in a low voice.
    Lucky tensed. “What do you mean?”
    Mickey was trembling. Then Lucky caught it—a death scent, rising from the ground beneath their paws. He lowered his muzzle to the wooden floor. There was a narrow gap and through this Lucky could just see a dark, heavy bundle.
    His nose twitched at the smell that rose up—a sour-sweet smell, like milk when it had been left in the sun.
    Mickey whimpered: “I think it’s their Mother-Dog.”
    Lucky gave an agreeing whine. “They’re crying with hunger.” His chest tightened with pity. For a moment he recalled his own Mother-Dog’s sweet, silky fur, and the huddle of his littermates as they gathered around him. “And grief,” he added softly, remembering the howls of pain he had heard when passing the Dog-Garden on his way to the city.
    His ears drooped guiltily. Had the howls come from their Mother-Dog?
    I did nothing to help her . . . .
    Mickey nudged Lucky’s face. “What if the other Fierce Dogs killed her?”
    â€œWhy would they do that?” Lucky asked, although he had already suspected the same thing.
    Mickey looked out into the long grass. “I don’t know. But then, why would they abandon the pups?”
    Lucky had to agree—nothing the Fierce Dogs did made much sense. “I don’t know, Mickey. But we have to go and talk to them, to make sure they’re not in serious trouble.”
    Mickey nodded. “Okay, Lucky. You’re right; we can’t just leave them. But let’s agree that if they’re in trouble we will help them as quickly as we can, or take them with us if we have to. We don’t want to hang around for the others to return.”
    â€œOf course,” said Lucky. He stalked back along the edge of the porch with Mickey close behind him. As he turned the corner he saw the puppies huddled together. Their floppy ears pricked up, alert.
    â€œI smell something!” yipped one of the pups, gnashing his small white teeth. The others whipped their heads around. Spotting Lucky and Mickey, they started barking in high-pitched voices.
    â€œWho are you? Go away!” yapped one.
    â€œOur Pack will be back soon!” added another.
    Mickey gave Lucky a worried look. “What if he’s right?” he whined. “We don’t want them to find us here.”
    â€œIt’s okay,” Lucky told him. “The pup is bluffing. I don’t think anyone else is here.” Lucky studied the young dogs. He noticed that they had short, thin tails, unlike the adult Fierce Dogs, who only had stumps where their tails should be.
    Mickey whimpered. “Maybe we’re wrong to think we can help them.”
    Lucky was watching the pups, his head cocked. “Can’t you see that they’re frightened? We have to help them.” He took a cautious step toward the pups, who gave off a series of fearful cries, snarls, and high-pitched squawks. Lucky spotted two bowls in front of