Moon's Choice by Erin Hunter Page B

their daily responsibilities were behind them for another night, they were chuffing quietly together over some unheard joke. Alpha muttered something in Beta’s ear, and in playful impatience she batted his nose with a gentle paw.
    They had such a connection, thought Moon wistfully. Her Father-Dog and her Mother-Dog were friends as well as mates, companions as well as leaders. They respected each other, worked well together . . .
    Against her will, the inner voice and its doubts rose inside her head. Moon clenched her jaws and rubbed her paws over her ears.
    If I wasn’t destined to be the Pack’s Alpha . . . would I choose Hunter at all?

CHAPTER TWO
    Fly’s den was cool, sheltered from the Sun-Dog’s rays by overhanging boughs of pine, but the big brown-and-white dog lay listlessly, panting as if the heat was unbearable. Moon nuzzled his dry nose, anxious. His flanks looked hollow and his coat was dull. A crusty discharge oozed from his exhausted eyes.
    â€œHere,” she said, trying to sound cheerful as she carefully dragged a curved piece of bark close to his muzzle. Water shimmered in it, cool and enticing, but Fly’s nose barely twitched. “I brought you this from the stream. Please, Fly, try to drink some.”
    Other dogs stood in the sunlit entrance to the den, their tails tucked low with worry. Meadow wriggled through the little group of watchers, a limp weasel in her jaws. Gently she laid it down before the ailing dog, then licked his ear.
    â€œCan’t you eat just a little, Fly?”
    The brown-and-white dog didn’t reply. His nostrils flaredslightly at the scent of food, but he seemed unable to even lift his head. His eyes rolled, showing the whites, and his tongue flopped onto the dry earth beneath his muzzle.
    â€œMaybe it was something he ate to start with,” Moon murmured to Meadow. “Maybe that’s why he can’t eat now?”
    â€œBut no other dog got sick,” said Meadow, looking troubled. “All the prey has been fresh, and there’s been nothing we haven’t eaten before.”
    Moon shook herself in distress. “That’s true, but—what?” Her ears pricked and she swung her head. “Why are they barking?”
    A volley of alarmed yelps echoed around the glade. Tensing, Moon cocked one ear forward.
    Meadow gave her a lick. “I don’t know. But if you want to go and look, I’ll stay with Fly.”
    Moon ducked out of Fly’s den, past the knot of anxious dogs, and bounded toward the disturbance. Snap, Pebble, and the long-eared black dog Mulch were racing into the camp, their hackles up and fur bristling. Mulch was trembling as he slithered to a halt in the dry leaves.
    â€œStrange dogs,” he barked. “Sniffing around our territory!”
    â€œWhere?” Alpha trotted forward, instantly alert.
    â€œOver by the stream,” growled Pebble. “So they’re taking allour water as well.”
    Alpha made a low huffing sound. “I doubt they’ll drink it dry, Pebble, but let’s go together as a Pack and see what they’re after. We don’t want trouble if we can help it, but we don’t want a strange Pack muscling in on our territory, either.”
    â€œIt could be that they’re just passing through, and needed to drink,” counseled Beta.
    â€œIt could,” agreed Alpha . “So let’s play it cool for now. But we should certainly put on a show of strength, just to let them see our land isn’t here for the taking. All dogs in the camp who are not with pup, follow me.”
    Her Father-Dog and Mother-Dog were so wise, Moon reflected as she trotted at Alpha’s heels. Alpha was strong enough to defend the Pack, but he wouldn’t place them at risk by picking unnecessary fights. And his mate, her Mother-Dog, was clever and supportive. Hunter and I can be like that. . . .
    The sky beyond the treetops was heavy with rain, but though the