The pair walked through the low side of the camp past buildings and away from the snowfield where the meat was kept. It was a daily ritual, all around the females of the pack spread out with the morning meal. Already the sleds were being rigged. Heaps of metal, wires, and ancient devices were piled and strapped onto axles and sledges. Each household had its own that was passed down through the generations. Some bore markings, but none knew the meaning. Denali stumbled and yawned. When she finally escaped from the crack it had taken her until almost dawn to get back to the camp. She had hardly shut her eyes when Barley woke her to get the meat. Her desire to run from her fate melted with the rising sun. If she could have gone the night before, she would have, but not now. The events came together and she’d see her own fate. No one was going to drive her out. Most of all, she felt angry for not telling the truth. She could, she knew she could, but she didn’t want anything to happen to the pups.
