The mother dog stepped out from the hollow beneath the roots at dawn. Her face showed surprise at the eerie silence. The air was chilling, almost unnaturally so. The sky was still clouded from the previous night’s rain…

—Where have my three puppies gone?—

She turned left, looked right, dug into every crevice under the giant roots, sniffing the damp soil until mud smeared her nose and mouth.

—Where are my children playing this morning?—

She searched every corner near the giant tree and the rainbow meadow where her pups loved to run.

But something began to feel wrong. Tracks on the ground looked like something had been dragged. The grass was flattened into a long trail. A faint unfamiliar scent drifted on the wind. Her face turned anxious. Her eyes scanned the surroundings with growing suspicion, just as little Hamby trailed behind, eyes closed, yawning sleepily.

Suddenly, the mother dog stopped. Hamby, half-asleep, stumbled forward and bumped right into the shoe of a man.

He tumbled head over heels and landed right at the feet of someone casting a long, dark shadow.

Hamby slowly looked up—and saw two short men from the Village of the Three Mountains.

One was fat, carrying a large canvas sack. He stopped and turned to stare at Hamby, eyes cruel and untrustworthy. In his left hand, he held a gleaming sickle that reflected sharply in his eyes. Hamby trembled with fear.

The thin man standing in front held a long spear. When he noticed Hamby near his foot, his eyes widened and his mouth curled into a sly grin.

“Well, well… there’s one more,” the thin short man said, lunging to grab Hamby. But in a flash, the mother dog sprang forward, grabbed Hamby’s tail with her teeth, and pulled him back, standing guard.

“Grrr… grrrr…” she growled with bared teeth.

“Fatty, bag it—now!” the thin man shouted. The fat one moved to flank them.

“Shoo! You mangy mutt. You’re in the way!” the thin man swung his spear to scare her off. The mother dog dodged, still shielding Hamby. The blade grazed her side, leaving wounds.

The fat man sneaked behind and reached for Hamby.

“Aaarrghhh!” The mother bit his arm hard. He flailed, throwing her off against a tree. She crashed and fell limp.

“Ehhng… ehhng…” Hamby cried in terror, trying to run to her, but before he reached her, the thin man grabbed his hind legs and shoved him into the sack.

“Now you’re mine! Hahaha!”

The mother dog lunged like lightning, her ears bloodied, breath heavy. She bit the sack’s edge and pulled with all her strength. The short man swung the sack wildly until she flew through the air and hit a tree hard. She lay motionless.

Ehhng… ehhng… oooogh… oooogh…

Hamby’s cries echoed through the forest. ,

The sound startled someone from their sleep… and when a dream no longer feels like just a dream—will Melony believe the voice calling from within her?