It takes her five minutes to get to Moira’s house, which is also a veterinary clinic and a small kennel for boarding dogs that aren’t with the Pack. The doctor is sitting on the porch waiting but gets up and walks toward the clinic door as she comes up the drive.

“Now who’ve we got tonight?” she coos at the bundles she’s retrieved from her pocket and laid on the exam table. “And their mothers?”

“No idea … they were found by two different parties alone, and left with me.”

Her eyebrows nearly meet but successfully connect several freckles, and she leans in. “Fetch me… wait no. Second thought, I’ve got this. Go out back and see if you can coax the stray behind the kennels in.”

“I’ll do what I can but not all dogs like me; you just keep seeing me with outliers.”

“Sure. I want to check that stray for injuries and maybe clean it up. Get it off the street.”

She nods but knows this is probably futile. “Thanks for looking at the little ones.”

Walking past the kennels she hears a low growl. “Hello? Are you hurt?”

“Are you a Keeper?”

“No, I’m … unaffiliated. I was at the Hive earlier today though. Made a deal with the Queen to stop the Collection, trying to cool things down.” She knew one should always be upfront with dogs, as they can smell lies.

“You Tuor’s whelp?”

“Aye. Friend, are you injured? I can patch you up without the doctor knowing. Get you out of here quick if you need help. I’m sure you don’t really want to be here.”

“I don’t but I won’t leave without my sister. I tracked her trapper here.”

“What’s your line name?”

“Lurken”

“I’ll look for her and find out what’s going on.”

She slips into the kennel house and turns on the light. It’s empty, save a terrier in a jeweled collar who squints for a moment and then begins to bark.

“Hush! You seen a gal from the Pack today?” she asks not sure she’ll get a response from a pet.

She stops barking and whines, looking into the doorway to the clinic.

“Moira—you had a stray brought in earlier?” she calls into the clinic.

“Yeah, the poor thing’s still under. Hit by a truck. Leg broke in three places. Internal bleeding, spent the morning in surgery. I took night duty myself to keep an eye on her. Why’dya ask? She’s not this pup’s ma. She’s a kind of sighthound and collie cross. This tyke is probably a pittie mix.”

“Ah,” she says. It hadn’t crossed her mind but it’s easier to let her think that’s where she was going. “I’ll be in, in a few.”

She heads back to the Lurken sibling and crouches down. “Friend, your sister was injured real badly and the doctor’s patched her up with the kind of healing that takes time and sleep. She’s inside where it’s not too hot or too cold, and should wake tomorrow—”

“If be the Moon’s favor,” the dog says with her.

“I’m going to wait here.”

“If you wait right here, they’re going to try to catch you. I will ask the doctor to let me take your sister when she’s healed, and I will deliver her to you. But please be careful to stay out of sight.”

The long body stood up and she could see its pointed face now that it’d moved from the shadow. Tipping back a bit she loses her balance, landing on her butt, looking up at the tall sliver of dog towering over. “You swear you’ll bring her to the Pack,” he says firmly. 

“I swear, if be the Moon’s favor that she stays here with us, I will bring her to you.”

“And if the Moon takes her from us, will you still bring her home?”

“I cannot promise I can carry her on my own. I will do my best to find help. I’m sorry if this isn’t enough for a pact. I have a lot of faith in the doctor. She’s a great healer, and has helped friends many times.”

“I have another question, Tuor’s whelp.”

She nods, “I have one more myself.”

“Why do you smell like the Wilds and the Leader, and…” he leans close, sniffing rapidly across her but slowing slightly over her shirt pocket. “... a pup and a Colony kit. Three washer bears, and two, no three night beasts? And… oh?” He stops, backs up a step, and squints down at her.

“I did a favor for the Blue Hound this morning, and two groups from the Wilds each brought me a newborn foundling this evening. I brought them here for healing and proper nutrition.”

“Are you going to raise them, together? The Colony will surely reject the kit, and that pup may have better luck with us once it’s older if it grows strong.”

“I don’t see many alternatives. I want to see what happens in there before making my heart a promise the Moon won’t allow me to keep.” 

The dog nods, sits down, and gruffs, “Your turn.”

“Ah, thank you,” she says sitting up, but still not tall enough to be eye level. “I’m going to advertise a tracker job in the morning. The compensation and risk are equal, and the Blue Hound will vouch for me. My hope is you’ll be caring for your sister soon, but if you know a tracker who isn’t averse to working with … outsiders, will you recommend the position?”

The pointed muzzle tipped to the sky and a bit to the west. “Sight or scent?”

“Either but—”

“—But you’ve got sight covered, I suppose.”

She feels her face heating up and hopes the darkness is working in her favor. “I mean, I’m not that… I just know a little…”

The dog stands up once again, “Tuor’s whelp, what else are you called?”

“Ah well, mostly things like Tuor’s this or that.”

“And what of your friends?”

“Oh! Can we call each other as friends?”

“I met Tuor once.”

Her heart begins to sink. “So no, then?”

“You’re not Tuor. Let’s wait for the Moon’s guidance. I know a scenthound that might be interested in some work. Favors for favors, right?”

“Yes, this would be a big one.”

“The best trackers in the Pack are a cur called Tal and a small ratter, goes by Flit. Either of them come to you, you’re in luck.”

“Thank you very much. Can… can I ask another?” she asks, eyes even rounder with the rise of her brows. The dog’s brows knit together and he nods his head allowing it.

“How does the pack feel about mice?”

Lurken’s white ears twitch. “Mice, eh? I saw a mouse once, a real one.”

She leans forward before realizing it. “Do you think there are any in the Pack’s land?”

“You think there’s anything so skilled it can hide amongst our feist? But a mouse?” Lurken’s voice is serious, more curious than skeptical.

“Are they so hated?”

“Not hated so much as not trusted. We’re not cats.”

“Of course not, I meant no … offense? I just … wasn’t sure if they’d have to really hide from the Pack.”

“The Pack’s only allies are the distant Wild packs, but we mostly all keep to ourselves.”

“The mouse you saw–how long ago? Can you tell me where you saw them?”

Lurken stands up again and looks down at her, head cocked, “Have you seen a mouse?”

“Yes, I’ve met an elder mouse. It was passing through the city, said it wanted to cross the sea.”

“Only one?”

“I’m not terribly old, you know!” she gasps out, more defensively than intended. At least she didn’t feel like she could be very old.

“Compared to who now?” the dog snorted. “I think this is enough questions for now. If you bring my sister back to the Pack we can talk more.”

“Yes, I will figure out how to reunite you. I’m going to look in on her and the foundlings. Are you going to stay here?”

“I’ll be near.”

“Can I bring you a meal before you go?”

“I’ll be fine, thank you,” Lurken says and turns away from the doctor’s place, heading into the wisp of trees snaking through the neighborhood’s yards, a dashed line marking the way to the Wilds.