We need to keep travelling North^ away from Pack and buzzers. We’re not yet lost. If we must, we can return to the big salt-water and continue being beaten against the cliffs. To Rise is the big salt-water, to the North the immense, dirty, churning river a pack of trained, disciplined warriors could not cross it. We don’t have a hope. When do you ever? Exactly, but we keep going. The only option forward is to Set along the river. Or return to the big salt-water. But… Sweet-ment^ continues on the other bank. I catch human scents hidden amongst the smells of muddy water rushing as fast as possible to big salt-water.
It’s been a weird time of plans and almost rest. Sweet-ment (like so many human settlements) is stripped bare, like a finished carcass. We’ve found some areas untouched by bees. We’re drawn to unadulterated human areas free of distorted, sagging wax. Mammal aliens are not as frightening as insects. I think. There are plenty of provision options. I hadn’t noticed All-Spot’s coat getting loose until he rapidly re-inhabited it with consistent provision. On another Damp World this could be den. We’re not far enough from Pack and we don’t know if bees are actually still around. They don’t seem to be maintaining it, but what do I know? Barely anything. We stick to the edges just in case.
This is our last day of exploring, Vicious and I will decide our next course this Set. Follow the river Set and hope we can eventually cross it North (and it doesn’t take us back South or to a barrier we can’t cross) or Rise to return to the beating we were enduring. Vicious is with Late First Eyes Runt^, Spotless and Bouncy while I have All-Spot and Pointy with me striding down a black-path by the river. All-Spot’s surprisingly energetic since we left the big salt-water, like (now he has experienced hunger) he’s ensuring he doesn’t have to again. I’m not complaining, he is much more useful to Pack this way.
The largest human-made lava-controlled black-path we’ve encountered runs parallel to the river. We’ve travelled to each junction to investigate Sweet-ment. None of it seems hugely different. Closer to the big salt-water there are the distinctive, clustered, central structures humans plant for whatever reason they do anything. Out this way, they’re all the standard dens in rows and rows. We might as well run, find how far we can get by zenith. It might give us more information to make a better decision later. I open up my pace. Pointy comfortably matches it. All-Spot doesn’t need cajoling. We canter along the relatively unmarred solid level path. It is wide, the canopy has not fully grown over it. Although it’s still cold and windy there’s bright sunshine from the low Damp-Sun. It feels good to really move. Not just trudging.
Pointy still runs with me. We can’t keep going too much longer. We can’t leave All-Spot parked too long. The river smells strong. The salt-water is less. It would be nice to smell less damp salt for a while. We can always change direction if it starts to turn South. The human-built barrier around the black-path falls away. We can get down to the river. This might be as good a place to investigate and turn round as any. I walk a safe distance from the torrent. I peer at what I’m sure is Sweet-ment continuing on the other side. I turn my head to Rise and Set, up and down the river. There is some kind of structure not too far upstream to Rise. It’s like nothing I have encountered. Between two towering tall-dens a colossal branch seems to levitate out over the river. I can’t make it out clearly, but it might actually go across the river. It is a levitating black-path! Oh, this is what we need. Trust humans. They can’t let a river get in the way of their black-paths. We have to gather the others. It’s a degree^ shy of zenith. I might be able to reach them via bond a degree closer. This is why you let others into your bond-space. You’d be able to reach them now. It’s hardly surprising I’m not confident dropping bond-barriers. I’ll serve on that another day.
We run with All-Spot collected. It was quicker than I thought to get to him. I start broadcasting an open bond-message. We’re not in Sweet-ment proper yet. It’s early to be yelling with my mind but I am so excited I might as well begin. Late First Eyes Runt does not have the bond skills for any distance.
( You’re heard. We come. ) Vicious’s bond-voice feels strange. Muffled. But I still hear him and he clearly heard me. I chit All-Spot and Pointy. We’ll rest until the rest of the pack reaches us.
Where are they? We have rested enough for even All-Spot to be getting restless. Oh wait. I smell them. Oh. Late First Eyes Runt is in distress. I radiate Pack as much as I can, whatever help that might be. She races close enough for me to see her clearly. She smelled it then. I can smell the other three who aren’t distressed or rushing. She is keening as she runs. I take a few steps towards her. She is on me. Jumping all over. Sniffing, grooming me where she can and yipping.
( Quick is alright, Quick is alright. ) her pack-whisper fills my mind. I reach into the pack-bond with Vicious to see if he knows what happened. I can’t reach him. But we just spoke from a much greater distance. I bellow into the pack-bond. Late First Eyes Runt collapses pawing at her ears. I don’t have a pack-bond with Vicious. I only have one with Late First Eyes Runt. I feel sad, lonely, confused, pity, excitement, closeness, Pack all at once. She can’t understand all my communications, but she always hears them. She must have one with Vicious and they did some kind of sharing. I groom her gently, and murmur soothing things into the pack-bond.
( Yes, I’m alright. I’m very good in fact. I know it is confusing and frightening, but you are safe with Pack. We might have found a way to keep travelling. Somewhere you and Spotless and Pointy and All-Spot and Vicious and Bouncy could all be safe. )
( And Quick? )
( Yes. Me too. ) I thought her closeness to me, whelped of necessity, had diminished as she developed bonds with the others. But she is attached to me as few dogs are. Particularly to their runt-makers. ( Oh my fragrant pup, we will get to somewhere safe with all of Pack. Then we will be safe there and hunt and live. ) As I am muttering this to her Vicious finally gets close enough. He checks on her first, grooms her and calms her further. Then he turns to me,
“We need to work on a pack-bond. It is not fair for her to have to be in the middle when she doesn’t understand what it is.”
“I agree, I didn’t know that was what was happening. I have been withdrawn in forming a pack-bond with you. If I am honest, all the pack-bonds I have had have been bitten through, turned over and buried.”
“Yeah, well it’s not fair on her and it’s time for you be First Eyes if that’s what you are.”
“Of course it isn’t fair on her. I have been dealing with her since you made her you don’t need to tell me that it’s not fair on her!” I expect him to rise to this. I’ve never said it out loud before. He is quiet. I feel defiant.
“I did make her runt. You didn’t. I know that. I have known that since I prodded you into a fight. You didn’t exactly look like the most stable sweller as it was.” He’s saying the thing I want to hear more than anything but can’t help getting a nip in. “It was not Pack-minded of me.”
“It was not.” Suddenly my anger is gone. I can’t hate him. He’s just another dog. Another dog who found the Damp World more distressing than most. Another dog never quite in-Pack enough to cope with being far from what they know. “But it’s happened now. And I got you back anyway.” I thought that might bring a chuck, but he looks thoughtful again.
“Well, what was it that needed us to come this way with all haste.”
“If I had realised she was the only one receiving, I would have not put so much urgency in it. I was excited not panicked. I’m not sure she can tell the difference at a distance.” I turn the pack to the levitating black-path hovering over murky, churning waters. And begin the half-degree of trotting to get there.
( So…) His bond-voice is faint. Without Late First Eyes Runt’s assistance it is like being in creche ( where… whelped…? ) I try to find the tiniest tendon of bond
( Rise Continent… in Set Sickness… You? )
( Central Continent… Set coast... in Rise Plague ) Lucky you don’t need a decent bond link right now! It can only get easier I guess.
We walk. Spotless is trotting to keep amongst the others, but didn’t slow when I tried to lower Pack-speed. Late First Eyes Runt is between me and Vicious, ears flicking, listening internally. I’ve no idea how much she can understand but she pours content into the Pack-bond. It makes it easier to bond-chat. We have managed to cover basic information from World: Soil Parents, creche-mates, first bond-mates, former notch-mates. I guide^ us to the bank of the river and show Vicious. He smells genuinely awed. I’m thrilled. It’s hardly your achievement – you just found it. I was right all along, human tech, understood by dogs has much Service. We feel the shadow of the high-path fall over us.
( How do we get up? ) Vicious’s thoughts are already clearer in my mind.
( High-path goes South. We go South? )
( Good idea. ) It is ridiculous how pleased I feel to have that acknowledged. By a made-runt runt-maker? I’ve missed bond-communication. South trees are bursting through a gap in the barrier. These are old growth, well, much older than most growth in Sweet-ment. We peel off the path, drawn to the trees. We tumble as a mass along in the trees keeping the black-path to our Set. The joy of running in dense forest gets both of us excited, all three of us. The ever-pups understand we’re happy but not why. Does Late First Eyes Runt understand why?
We climb onto the high-path were it slopes down to the ground. We walk up its steep, smooth slope as a dense pack. We suddenly feel very exposed. Up high. No tree cover. If a floater came seeking us now, they would certainly find us. Or a bee for that matter. We drift close to the barrier at the edge. The sound shifts. We walk into a miasma of churned river. I glance over the edge and cannot see the turbulence I can smell and hear. The sky is clear but cold and the wind flings us against the barrier. I chit. Vicious is already removing a tether. I tether Spotless to Late First Eyes Runt. Heads down, we travel into the wind keening through the high-path structure.
Vicious is in point. We’re already approaching a second huge upright. It’s only taken about a degree (I think). We have made it! I actually made the right decision.
( FUCK^! ) both me and Late First Eyes Runt flinch. I am not sure if he meant to send that or have that privately. He shakes ( First path only. Many more. ) The rest of the celebration drains from my stomach. But we did the first one. We can do more.
( Keep going? ) I stride towards him to assess the challenge.
( Next… difficult. ) I chit and squeeze past the others. I feel my senses screeching about the danger roiling below us. I reach the upright and glance… down! The high-path does not stay high. It slopes down sharply, getting dangerously close to water (if not actually going into the racing flow). The other side slopes up sharply. Then another tall structure. Beyond that’s not apparent to my nose or ears due to the wind.
( Go back or cross? ) I might as well share this decision, if I’ve let him in. He stammers in the pack-bond then ditches it for vocal speech.
“Will all Pack manage the crossing?” I consider insisting on using bond-comms but realise I am already over-stretched trying to figure this out.
“We have no idea until we investigate.” I add to Late First Eyes Runt, ( You are going to help them all stay safe while Vicious and I find out if it is safe to cross. You are a good dog, caring for your Pack. )
( Yes, I will do this. ) The loudest and clearest she’s ever been in our pack-bond. It’s almost like you could have had meaningful contact with them all along if you had got over yourself sooner. I will keep using bond-comms.
( Come on, Vicious. ) We walk, him a heads-length ahead. It is difficult to keep our footing on the way down. ( Use tether. One at a time. ) He heard Late First Eyes Runt and returns to the bond.
( Yes. You’ve energy for 5 trips? ) He sounds sceptical – even better communication!
( I’m First Eyes. I have energy for Pack. ) We continue picking our way down in silence. The wind drops as we descend. It is a little easier to shuffle onwards. The side barriers drop away. Oh there’s the wind. We slow again. We stop. We’re close enough to know the not-so-high-path does drop under the water. But for a short distance that a Soil-dog could probably jump. The flow is fast and terrifying. I’m drenched in fear. Maybe we should go back.
( I think we go for it. It’s not safe, never stopped you or me? We’ve survived lots. Away from Pack and floaters faster, worth risking me. )
( Are you jumping it? ) He might be in-pack but his wild streak is rarely curbed.
( Yes, I am. )
( Take long human vine. If you fall, I get you back. ) He feels surprised. ( You are Pack. ) He grabs the end I proffer him. It’s only 1.5 of the gap. I need to get quite close to the torrent so I don’t drag him in. He backs up. And launches clean and high over the water and lands on the far side.
( Spotless couldn’t jump that. Or All-Spot? Possibly Bouncy, has energy but small. )
( Tie human vine to something. I collect them. ) I start to make my way back up. Late First Eyes Runt is in First Eyes guiding them down. She understands some things. I feel her emotions in the pack-bond. Maybe she set off because she was getting freaked out sounds and smells attacking her from all sides. I meet them and give her an encouraging tap. I guide them to about a packs-length from the water. I chit them. ( Who try first? )
( Always Pointy. ) I go to the cowering pack and nudge Pointy to her feet. I herd her to the edge of the water. She’s not confident in my requests or the environment. I don’t want to nudge her into the water.
( I’ll jump over and back, to show her. ) I give myself plenty of run-up then fling myself over the gap. I clear it and scrabble up to an equivalent place, grab the tethered vine and jump back to beside Pointy. There’s a crack in the black-path on that side. My take-off was less firm. I land a little heavily. I put the vine in Pointy’s mouth. We both run. She shies at the last moment. I almost tumble into the water. She knows I wasn’t preparing to jump. ( I have to jump with her. ) He affirms and checks the tether is secure.
We back-up together again. I run full pelt with her and soar over the gap to Vicious. We both make a fuss of her, as we would a Soil-pup, if either of us was a Soil Parent. She is revelling in the grooming and praise she can’t understand. My pulse slows; my thoughts begin to trickle back in. Late First Eyes Runt is making a tiny keening in the pack-bond. I grab the vine and jump back. Bouncy takes the vine easily. We run at the gap together. Her feet and long-haired tail splash in the water a little but we are safe. I leave Vicious to praise her. I can’t pause or I will stop. ( Late First Eyes Runt, we’re all going to be safe. ) All-Spot next.
He’s prepared to jump. He wants to be with Pack. We leap in unison. He doesn’t fully clear the gap. ( Vicious! ) but he is already clamping the vine in his teeth. His back arches to take the weight. I grab the vine nearer the water. All-Spot’s grip is solid. We pull him clear. I knew his greedy jaws would be helpful someday. Did you? Now it’s just her and Spotless, Late First Eyes Runt’s panic is escalating. Her fear echoes through my stomach. I feel my own fear build. ( Spotless can’t jump. I have to carry him. ) I shove the vine at him and scruff him up before either of us can full out panic. He yelps. Despite his size or his creche-level understanding, he’s too old to scruff. The vine is clamped between his teeth. I hope it holds if this doesn’t come off. I throw us both as hard as I can towards Vicious. This leap is not a good one. The weight is all wrong. We’re plummeting towards the water. Whimpering and a small bark.
( No, Late First Eyes Runt. Don’t! )
She’s already in the air. She hits us. We all fall. The lava hits me hard in the midsection. I scrabble for purchase. Vicious hauls Spotless out of the way by his scruff, pulling the vine from his mouth. Late First Eyes Runt’s weight is mostly on the high-path. The torrent is trying to drag her from her precarious position. I have a tenuous grip. I can’t think about dragging myself out. Just try to hold here. Vicious gets the vine to Late First Eyes Runt. She grabs it. Instead of hauling herself clear she leaps towards me. She’s picked up by the current. Her body slams into me, knocking my grip and taking my air as I need it most. I submerge. Water I didn’t have senses to perceive becomes cold and everything. Water gets in my mouth. It tastes slightly salty. I don’t want to be dragged out. A dog can cross a river but you need a large pack to cross a big salt-water. I am buffeted. I’m not being dragged out. I’m being beaten by water passing. I feel warmth. Where Late First Eyes Runt is touching me! Holding me. Pinning me to human-lava. She shunts me forwards. I feel the taut vine. I grab it with my teeth. I drag myself a little further forward. I’m on the submerged path. I can just get my feet forward a paws-length. I shift my teeth further along. Late First Eyes Runt is just behind me. Another paws-length. Shift my teeth. Late First Eyes Runt at my back. Paws-length. Shift Teeth. Late First Eyes Runt. Paws-length. Teeth snag. Better grip. Almost clear of the gush. Pull. Vicious pulling us up. My legs crumple. He pulls me away from the flow. He leaps over me. I force myself to stand. I turn to help. Hearing them both getting free of the water.
( Oh no. ) He sounds so frightened, but the danger is past.
( What? ) I turn to him. He falls against the human-lava. His eyes roll back. Late First Eyes Runt has grabbed him by his mane and is holding him tight. He flails and thrashes, tries to bite her but she pins him safely. She was quicker than me at responding. He yips and his eyes flicker. He takes a deep wracking breath. And lapses into deep-sleep.
He can’t be woken after an episode. We can’t stay here. Pack stands away from the surging water, ready to run if necessary. We have the human-made hide. That’ll have to do. I drag it from my cache-pouch. I get it flat (the me that had to get Spotless into it would be jealous). Late First Eyes Runt and I roll him into it. Now how do we move him?
He’s heavy. Late First Eyes Runt and I are exhausted from our impromptu soaking. This slope isn’t gentle. Wait! The vine, as Vicious was using it, is wrapped around a piece of the structure. He was using his weight to pull us out. Maybe we could use it to pull him up in stages. We have two vines. We could pull him one end at a time. There are huge metal man-made vines every dogs-length or so. I tie the loose end of the vine to the hide and haul down. He skitters along the ground but slides back down when I relax. ( Can you please hold this as tight as you can, Late First Eyes Runt? ) She does, pulling with greater strength than I was exerting. I attach the other vine from my cache-pouch and loop it to the next point and pull again. He moves half a dogs-length before the other vine goes tight. ( Now, my spots, can you do the same thing on the next one along? ) She climbs past me, nearly vertically on this section and loops the vine round and hauls him up, scuffing the hide along the human-lava. I peak ahead to prepare for how long this will take. I can’t see the top of the slope.
We drag Vicious over the lip onto the flat part of the high-path. I can’t stomach trying to find a safe place to den. The ever-pups have been up here long enough to have found a nook by the barrier where they are out of the wind. I check on Vicious. He appears to be doing nothing more sinister than deep-sleeping. I go to the edge of the high-path to smell our surroundings. There is more human (no hint of bee) long-abandoned settlement. My nose is filled with the smell of relief. Dense forest – just off the black-path only a litters-worth^ of pack-lengths away. ( Do you need to rest Late First Eyes Runt? )
( No rest yet. Pack needs safety. )
( Of course. ) She’s so pack-minded. The most pack-minded amongst ye. It’s so endearing. Maybe she can’t help being First Eyes. I stretch my jaws, my teeth ache from too much use, getting this great lump of dog to defy gravity. We better keep going while my body is still humming with adrenaline^. We stagger dragging him. There’s a gentle downward slope. He moves as though on a roller-cache by comparison to the Service we just achieved. One pack-length. Two. Wait! There! The trees have rejected being confined by meddling humans. Thank Soil! I guide the pack towards it. The ever-pups who are hardly rested but full of anxious need to run get further ahead than we can keep up lugging Vicious. They approach the treeline then return to us, Spotless lolloping along behind. One more tails-length. We are finally under trees. Out of the wind. Safe (as we can be). I drop my end of Vicious and chit. I unfurl the hide and disgorge Vicious onto the dry leafy ground. He’s wetter than either of us. We’ve been making our bodies hot for a degree, but he’s been inside the hide which doesn’t allow water to escape. His body is very cold. Late First Eyes Runt drapes over him, so I curl around his back. We both start grooming him. He suddenly starts awake. He walks away from us. He rolls in dry leaves. We watch him unsure who he is right now. He smells a little drier. He returns to the space in between us and returns to deep-sleep. Spotless tucks in next to Late First Eyes Runt, Pointy next to me, then Bouncy curls round Vicious’s tail and All-Spot joins where he is not in contact with Vicious, he still isn’t sure. Maybe he shouldn’t be.