Virals(9)

Miss Whisper must have fancied the boy. The first wolfdog puppy was born a few months later. For a year the canines rolled as a trio. Then a second cub joined the family. I was first to notice the new addition, two months after my own arrival in November. I even named him.

How did we meet?

The gang and I were lounging on Turtle Beach when a splintering sound drifted from the woods. Intrigued, I snuck through the trees, expecting monkey mischief. Instead, I found the dogs circling a hole, whining and darting. A tiny cry was rising from somewhere below.

Hearing, perhaps smelling me, the pack froze. Six eyes locked on my chest.

I stopped dead, not moving a muscle.

Whisper stared in my direction, snout up and sniffing the air. She's big, the pack leader. A full-blooded wolf. Upset. At me.

Yikes.

My sweat glands kicked into high gear.

A growl rumbled deep in Whisper's throat. She stepped toward me, ears erect, fur bristling her spine.

A rational person would have retreated. But when it comes to dogs, I'm certifiable. Something in that hole needed my help, I was certain of it.

Slowly, I inched ahead, willing Whisper to understand.

Trust me. I'm not a threat.

Whisper's eyes were so wide I could see the whites. Her lips curled, displaying gleaming incisors. The growl morphed to a snarl.

Second warning.

"Shhhh," I cooed. "I'm a friend." I inched forward. "Just one peek. I promise I mean no harm."

Movement flickered in the corner of my eye. I stole a peek.

My friends, safely distant, watched with disbelieving eyes.

Ignoring them, I took another undersized step.

Whisper lunged, stopped two feet before me.

A third growl, full throated. This time, the other dogs joined in. The sound was fierce, terrifying.

A flood of adrenaline shot through my body.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

Lowering my gaze, I slowly spread my hands. Stood rock still, urging Whisper to understand. I knew my safety balanced on a knife's edge.

No sound. No movement.

Blood pounded in my ears. Sweat trickled my back.

Keeping my chin down, I raised my eyelids. Whisper's gaze locked onto mine. She seemed to hesitate, to debate in whatever way wolves do.

Then, abruptly, she circled to stand with her mate and child. As one, the three glanced at the hole, back at me.

I had permission. I thought. Hoped.

I risked another tentative foot forward. The pack watched intently, but held position.

Quickly, Tory. Your pass will expire.

Moving forward, I looked down into the hole, an abandoned shaft, once boarded over. The brittle wood had just given way.

Ten feet down, a small furry bundle yelped pitifully. Two perfect blue eyes gazed skyward. A wolfdog puppy.

Seeing me, the pup scrambled to its feet and scratched the dirt wall with its small paws, desperate to be reunited with its mother.

Without thinking, I dropped to my stomach, grabbed a ropey vine, swung my legs over the rim of the shaft, and braced my feet against the wall. Death-gripping the vine, I began to lower myself in a modified rappel.

One hop. Two.

A shadow fell across me. I looked up. Three canine faces hung above my head, eyes following my every move. No pressure.

Oh so carefully, I descended.

Three. Four. Five.

Halfway down, my feet encountered a series of narrow shelves. Using them as stair steps, I closed the gap to where the terrified puppy crouched. It barked in excitement, eager for rescue.

When I reached the pup's level, I sat, catching my breath. My new friend crouched on a broken barrel with Cooper River Boiled Peanuts stamped on its side. He crawled into my lap. Face lick. Adorable.

That's when I named him. Cooper.

A sharp bark sounded from above. Whisper was growing impatient.

Carefully lifting my cargo, I stood, back to the wall, surveying my options. The shaft was uneven, with protruding rocks and roots. A relatively easy climb.

Easy, if a pack of angry canines aren't topside, waiting to eat you for lunch.

Cradling the pup in one arm, I began hoisting myself up with the other, one foot at a time. Grab. Pull. Step. Grab. Pull. Step.

Wiggling close, my passenger gave a funny little bark.

"I agree, Coop. Hang on."

My arms were burning when my face broke the plane of the ground. And came nose-to-snout with a wolf.

Whisper. Jaws inches from my throat.

Moving slowly, I placed Coop on the ground. Mama wolf clamped her teeth on his scruff, lifted, and bounded into the brush.

Two more flashes. The pack was gone.

Trembling, I pulled myself from the shaft and tried to dust off.

I grinned. Mission accomplished, and me not dead.

Still brushing dirt, I looked over at my companions. Hi was hyperventilating. Ben and Shelton were slowly shaking their heads. The collective relief was palpable.

All three made me swear to never act so recklessly again. I promised, but just to placate. I knew, given the circumstances, I'd do it again.

Returning to the beach, I sensed, more than heard, rustling off to my right. I glanced into the woods. Two golden eyes gleamed in the shadows. Whisper. She studied me a moment, then disappeared into the forest.

Perhaps my proudest moment.

Months had passed since that encounter. I'd seen little of Whisper or her pack.

If I found them, would they remember me? Would Coop?