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Description
After the dragon attack, I hadn't thought to prepare for them. My only goal was to collect supplies for one halfling and a young girl. The only people left in the village were women, children, and me. Most of the sickly hadn't escaped the shelter, so we didn't even have them at our disposal. There was no hope of us burying all the dead, so the bodies were simply left as they were, half buried and filling the air with a stink even children could smell. Their houses were beginning to stink, too, but there were plenty of supplies to be gleaned from these abandoned homes.
Alice and I spent the days gathering supplies and keys from various houses that no longer had occupants to yell at us. The keys were for her, as were most of the supplies. I had to keep her fed if I wanted to keep her safe. The mothers who still sat in their falling houses never really liked me, but now they outright threw things at me to keep me away. They squatted in their doorways like territorial mutts while I dodged pans and stones. Some of the better pots I kept as gifts. I suppose their actions were justified in their minds. I survived when an entire village of men died to that dragon. Obviously, I had used some kind of majik and could turn against them at any moment. I was a danger to all of them.
The mamurra came under the sun’s fading light. They weren’t from our world. At least, their original ancestors weren’t. Large and white, these creatures haunted the forests and hills in packs anywhere from a few members to a few dozen members. Regularly, these packs would chase after and attack those who traveled by night, though they were rarely seen away from established feeding grounds. Maybe it was the smell of the place that drew them. Luckily, I was close to Alice when it happened. She and a couple of her friends were playing in the village square while I ransacked the clothier's shop. I had just slid a new key onto Alice's string of treasures when we heard the screams. “Alice! Together!” I cried. I emerged from the shop with a frantic glance toward the eerie cries. Two sharpened butcher’s knives jumped to my hands as she ran to my side, just like we’d practiced. The other children gathered around as well, something I hadn’t planned on them doing.
“He’s my Protector. Get your own,” Alice said. Her words made me grin, but when the first mamurra rounded the bend, all the children cowered behind me. Not like I was any less scared, but my mind remained ice. These mamurra, these ghost hounds, ran through the streets on heavily muscled legs. Wide heads supported on thick necks held bottomless black pits where eyes should have been. Most terrifying of all, though, was the leader of each pack. The Marca bled from these pits almost constantly, and their thick fur turned a deep crimson, their fangs sharper and longer than most. Just like the dragons. Only smaller, and more of them. Never mind, don't think of them as dragons. New enemy, new tactics.
“Alice, get in the smithy. Grab the pokers and blades there and swing them at anything that tries to come in,” I told her. The other children followed her lead like scared little ducks. First one, then another disappeared into the building. As Alice slammed the door shut, the red coat of a mamurra rounded the corner into the main square. I threw myself at the Marca. I had to keep it distracted to give Alice and the others a fighting chance. Maybe if I could wound it enough, we could get out and away from this death hole.
Our tussle lasted longer than I had wanted. My knives were great for hacking, but I hadn’t been trained in them like I had for the crossbow and sword. They sank into crimson fur and my cries mingled with the canine creature I fought. Pain flared in my shoulder as teeth tried for the neck. I retaliated with a hack at the ribs. Whines and and howls echoed just as freely off the dying village as my grunts and cries. With a final swing, I managed to hit something vital. When I stood above it once more, I was as red as he had been, and I had an audience.
I stood before the smithy door as a semicircle of mamurra growled and snapped at the air. Some had red muzzles, while others seemed to have bathed in what blood the village had left to give. They snarled, all two dozen of them, but none of them advanced. As the Marca bled out at my feet, I noticed a graying tint spread across the limp form.
“Alice! Are you alright?” I called into the smithy. I didn’t take my eyes off the mamurra, afraid of what would happen if I did. One stepped forward, but it retreated as I brandished my bloodied knives.
“I have a sword!” Alice said triumphantly, emerging from the smithy with her prize in hand. Immediately, the mass of mamurra surged forward.
“Stay back!” I yelled at them, and to my surprise, they obeyed. All but one mamurra retreated back to their original places out of reach. Alice made a small sound, but stood strong, brandishing her sword in the doorway. The mamurra who had remained stood as still as the buildings on the edge of the square. As I watched, the black pits of her eyes began to bleed. As if wine had spilled across the rest of her coat, all her fur turned crimson. When she stepped forward, I moved in front of Alice, and the new Marca froze.
The mamurra shuffled on the edges of my vision as their new leader ducked to her belly, folded back her ears, and began to crawl towards me. Grunts and sounds that weren't quite barks came from those surrounding us. From the ground came a whine that sounded almost as loud as the mill that no longer ran, but I still heard Alice’s words.
“She looks like my Protector,” she muttered from behind me. Even though Alice seemed upset about it, I quickly grasped what might be happening.
“Alice, stay here. If anything happens, jump inside and bar the door, got it?” I said. Thankfully, Alice did what I said, and I was left with the grovelling Marca. I lowered my knives, but I did not put them away. The Marca seemed to take that as a sign and began to crawl.
When the canine reached me, she rolled onto her back, showing me her belly and the red fur there. Carefully, I reached out a hand. With surprising speed, the Marca jumped up and began to lick at the blood on my hand. In my surprise, I pushed at her broad head with my other hand. The knife cut her lip and made a mark on her folded ears, but I hadn't intended injury. Instead, where I had pushed her, a half-moon glowed briefly before darkening to an almost black on her fur.
“It just used majik! Momma was right! Jack, Milly, we have to go!” I heard a young voice shout from inside the smithy. Immediately, all the mamurra began to growl intensely. A small shriek came from inside, but when I stepped back to better protect the door, all sounds stopped. The growls silenced. The children within scarcely breathed. I held up a hand, and all the black pits followed it.
“Is it safe, yet?” Alice said from within the smithy. She seemed to be impatient and bored. Hopefully she wouldn't get any ideas with these dangers so close by.
“Maybe,” I said over my shoulder. The pack responded to my voice with all tails rising to erect positions. “Send out one of the others,” I suggested. If this was going to hurt anyone, I was not letting it hurt Alice. One of the boys was pushed out, and he looked up at me with terror-filled eyes. The kid's lower lip trembled, but I didn't give him a smile. I would protect Alice, even if I had to sacrifice another.
“Come here,” I told him brusquely. Apparently, I needed to be more specific, though. As the child reached me, so did the new Marca and a couple of the other mamurra. I quickly snatched up the child, but nothing seemed to happen. The boy - Jack maybe - started to cry, but none of the mamurra reacted. They all stared up at me with black eyes in white faces. “This one is a friend. Do not eat him,” I said. The canines milled about me, but the Marca quickly licked the poor kid’s foot and paced in front of me until I had space to put Jack down, which I did very slowly. The boy thrashed slightly and clung to my leg once I put him down, but he didn't die, so I counted it as a win.
Cautiously, a single white form crawled forward, much like my Marca had. I stood over Jack as he cried, but I was pleasantly surprised when the mamurra simply licked at the boy’s hand. On an impulse, I grabbed one of Jack’s hands and placed it on the mamurra’s wide head. A similar crescent glowed on that brow before dissolving into a similar grey mark as my own. “You take care of this one,” I told them. With tail wagging, the mamurra licked at the tears still on the boy’s face, but it didn’t do anything otherwise life threatening. This might even work.
Carefully, I repeated the same process with the other children in the smithy. They cried in varying amounts, but nobody died. Alice was the hardest. “I don’t want another Protector! I have you!” she yelled at me. The poor grovelling mamurra began to whine, but I crouched on my good knee and got level with her.
“Don’t think of it as another me,” I told her, "Let me be your Fierce Protector. This one can be your Protector. They'll answer to me. That better?" I almost told her to think of it like adopting a pet but decided against the analogy. Not only were her pets not the best of creatures, but the mamurra seemed to understand at least a little of what I said. “Think of it as making another friend, as if we’re joining the pack.” Immediately, the mamurra began to bay into the night, those with companion children happily walking circles around their charges. Their braying could split the night much faster than a wolf’s howl, and they happily shredded what was available in their circle. “We are pack,” I tried again. This time, there was a number of yips and excited barks among the baying. Alice seemed to think her new companion funny enough to pat, which luckily resulted in the same crescent mark. Now that we’d avoided one crisis, there was another.
“Momma’s never gonna take me back! I’ve been majiked! I’m not human anymore!” one of the boys cried. His mamurra seemed distressed at the boy’s lack of enthusiasm and broke into a deep whine. I was inclined to leave the whining things to their own devices. Alice was here and safe and might have a new guard in case another dragon showed up, so I was content.
“Tommy! We’re alive because of the majik! Your momma always hated you, anyway! We’re going to a place with no bruises, but there’s going to be majik plenty if it keeps us alive. You wanna go back to your momma? Go!” Alice said. I was surprised at the sudden ferocity, but the comment seemed to strike true. Tommy grew quiet, and though he and his mamurra walked at the back of the pack, they followed us as I led Alice to our supplies and gathered them. It was high time we left this village.
“Alice! Alice, can I come with you?” the other girl said, “Can I go to the place with majik?”
“I suppose you can come, Milly. Jack can come, too if he wants,” Alice said loftily. The moment was slightly ruined as a scream echoed from what should have been Tommy’s house. Calls of monsters and cursed ones flooded from a feminine voice, and Tommy ran back to the pack, tears staining his face. A new bruise was forming on his jaw that bled slightly due to the impact of whatever had struck home.
“I told you Momma wouldn’t take me back! Now what do I do?” Tommy wailed. With a sigh, I stopped by the old bakery.
“I suppose I’ll take care of you, then,” I said. Some of the loaves were still salvageable, and I dumped them into the small bag I carried. Alice shouldn't have to share her food with anyone else.
“You?! I want to go home!” Tommy said. I sighed and collected a little more food and moved among my new charges. As I walked down the street, the pack followed, happily licking at my hands and feet in the most distracting way. They jumped and bayed and raced forward and back, though never in front of me.
“Tommy, we can’t do it on our own yet. It’d be better to live with a halfling than die because of your mother. I bet he’s nicer anyway,” Jack said. He walked among the mamurra as the most comfortable with his furry white companion despite his dramatic introduction. Though he had to reach up to pet the large creature, he scratched the canine’s ears and neck thoroughly. The mamurra reminded me of a big dog, but I quickly shook that thought from me. They were monsters known for their killing prowess, even if this pack was acting strangely.
“I’d rather live with Momma than die with a cursed halfling! It kills everyone it comes in contact with! The troop. This village. I bet it even cursed its own family to die!” Tommy yelled. I winced at the accusations. It had never actually occurred to me that I might be the problem. Would my presence really bring harm to Alice?
“I didn’t die,” Alice pointed out from beside me. I didn’t hear Tommy reply, but he apparently still followed as I led the rest of them out of the remains of the village. Their words troubled me, but I tried not to let it show. That was one thing I had learned as a kid: give them any hint, and they'll pounce on the weakness and doubt.
“What makes you think the halfling is a he? I think she’s much more like my mom than my dad,” Milly said, “and I think she can hear you. You should be nicer.” I smiled slightly at their debate of my gender, but I had to look twice when I glanced their way. Even though I wasn’t sure even the Marca could carry my weight, Milly rode her mamurra like a horse, which made sense, considering her parents’ role in the village. She continued her conversation with the boys as I focused forward again.
Alice tapped my arm as we entered the trees. “Are you a boy or a girl?” she asked when I looked down at her. I smiled and put a finger to my lips before focusing again on the pack of mamurra. Large canines known for killing things now followed my lead. Was it because I’d killed their Marca? That didn’t make sense. Another one walked on my other side, occasionally nipping at other mamurra braisen enough to come close. Was it because of the blood? If it was, I wasn’t going to wash it off until Alice and I could safely escape them. Were they herding us for future food sources? I'd never heard of the tactic before, but if humans, elves, and dragons had come up with it, why couldn't other species?
I continued to walk into the night. A chill filled the starry air, reminding us all that summer was coming to a close. The mamurra followed, and eventually the children fell asleep. Milly slept on her mamurra while Jack attempted the same. Tommy was dragging his feet as his mamurra clamped careful jaws on the kid’s coat until I broke and put him on the dog’s back so they wouldn't fall behind. Alice took some convincing, but she eventually allowed me to put her on the mamurra’s back. They had surprisingly broad shoulders that made carrying children like this rather simple. It was strange to see the children sleeping at at almost chest level, but I resisted the urge to let my guard down.
As the sun rose, the Marca took the lead. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, but my brain was getting tired, and I’d just about lost any idea of what to do next. My supplies were heavy on my shoulders, and my knee felt pressured and weak. I followed the Marca warily until we reached a roomy cave. I hadn’t even realized how drained I was until I slumped to the floor.
The Marca curled up next to me as the rest of the pack settled in for a nice rest. Those with charges let them gently slide to the floor in various states of awareness before curling up around them. The cave quickly went from chilly to a cozy warmth shared by all the large, furry creatures. “You won’t eat us, right?” I asked the Marca drowsily. In response, I got a lick on the hand I raised to brush back my hair. I chuckled and curled up on the floor. Why wouldn’t they, though? Why were these large canines with the capability to handily eat them following him and carrying children?
We Are Pack

Description
After the dragon attack, I hadn't thought to prepare for them. My only goal was to collect supplies for one halfling and a young girl. The only people left in the village were women, children, and me. Most of the sickly hadn't escaped the shelter, so we didn't even have them at our disposal. There was no hope of us burying all the dead, so the bodies were simply left as they were, half buried and filling the air with a stink even children could smell. Their houses were beginning to stink, too, but there were plenty of supplies to be gleaned from these abandoned homes.
Alice and I spent the days gathering supplies and keys from various houses that no longer had occupants to yell at us. The keys were for her, as were most of the supplies. I had to keep her fed if I wanted to keep her safe. The mothers who still sat in their falling houses never really liked me, but now they outright threw things at me to keep me away. They squatted in their doorways like territorial mutts while I dodged pans and stones. Some of the better pots I kept as gifts. I suppose their actions were justified in their minds. I survived when an entire village of men died to that dragon. Obviously, I had used some kind of majik and could turn against them at any moment. I was a danger to all of them.
The mamurra came under the sun’s fading light. They weren’t from our world. At least, their original ancestors weren’t. Large and white, these creatures haunted the forests and hills in packs anywhere from a few members to a few dozen members. Regularly, these packs would chase after and attack those who traveled by night, though they were rarely seen away from established feeding grounds. Maybe it was the smell of the place that drew them. Luckily, I was close to Alice when it happened. She and a couple of her friends were playing in the village square while I ransacked the clothier's shop. I had just slid a new key onto Alice's string of treasures when we heard the screams. “Alice! Together!” I cried. I emerged from the shop with a frantic glance toward the eerie cries. Two sharpened butcher’s knives jumped to my hands as she ran to my side, just like we’d practiced. The other children gathered around as well, something I hadn’t planned on them doing.
“He’s my Protector. Get your own,” Alice said. Her words made me grin, but when the first mamurra rounded the bend, all the children cowered behind me. Not like I was any less scared, but my mind remained ice. These mamurra, these ghost hounds, ran through the streets on heavily muscled legs. Wide heads supported on thick necks held bottomless black pits where eyes should have been. Most terrifying of all, though, was the leader of each pack. The Marca bled from these pits almost constantly, and their thick fur turned a deep crimson, their fangs sharper and longer than most. Just like the dragons. Only smaller, and more of them. Never mind, don't think of them as dragons. New enemy, new tactics.
“Alice, get in the smithy. Grab the pokers and blades there and swing them at anything that tries to come in,” I told her. The other children followed her lead like scared little ducks. First one, then another disappeared into the building. As Alice slammed the door shut, the red coat of a mamurra rounded the corner into the main square. I threw myself at the Marca. I had to keep it distracted to give Alice and the others a fighting chance. Maybe if I could wound it enough, we could get out and away from this death hole.
Our tussle lasted longer than I had wanted. My knives were great for hacking, but I hadn’t been trained in them like I had for the crossbow and sword. They sank into crimson fur and my cries mingled with the canine creature I fought. Pain flared in my shoulder as teeth tried for the neck. I retaliated with a hack at the ribs. Whines and and howls echoed just as freely off the dying village as my grunts and cries. With a final swing, I managed to hit something vital. When I stood above it once more, I was as red as he had been, and I had an audience.
I stood before the smithy door as a semicircle of mamurra growled and snapped at the air. Some had red muzzles, while others seemed to have bathed in what blood the village had left to give. They snarled, all two dozen of them, but none of them advanced. As the Marca bled out at my feet, I noticed a graying tint spread across the limp form.
“Alice! Are you alright?” I called into the smithy. I didn’t take my eyes off the mamurra, afraid of what would happen if I did. One stepped forward, but it retreated as I brandished my bloodied knives.
“I have a sword!” Alice said triumphantly, emerging from the smithy with her prize in hand. Immediately, the mass of mamurra surged forward.
“Stay back!” I yelled at them, and to my surprise, they obeyed. All but one mamurra retreated back to their original places out of reach. Alice made a small sound, but stood strong, brandishing her sword in the doorway. The mamurra who had remained stood as still as the buildings on the edge of the square. As I watched, the black pits of her eyes began to bleed. As if wine had spilled across the rest of her coat, all her fur turned crimson. When she stepped forward, I moved in front of Alice, and the new Marca froze.
The mamurra shuffled on the edges of my vision as their new leader ducked to her belly, folded back her ears, and began to crawl towards me. Grunts and sounds that weren't quite barks came from those surrounding us. From the ground came a whine that sounded almost as loud as the mill that no longer ran, but I still heard Alice’s words.
“She looks like my Protector,” she muttered from behind me. Even though Alice seemed upset about it, I quickly grasped what might be happening.
“Alice, stay here. If anything happens, jump inside and bar the door, got it?” I said. Thankfully, Alice did what I said, and I was left with the grovelling Marca. I lowered my knives, but I did not put them away. The Marca seemed to take that as a sign and began to crawl.
When the canine reached me, she rolled onto her back, showing me her belly and the red fur there. Carefully, I reached out a hand. With surprising speed, the Marca jumped up and began to lick at the blood on my hand. In my surprise, I pushed at her broad head with my other hand. The knife cut her lip and made a mark on her folded ears, but I hadn't intended injury. Instead, where I had pushed her, a half-moon glowed briefly before darkening to an almost black on her fur.
“It just used majik! Momma was right! Jack, Milly, we have to go!” I heard a young voice shout from inside the smithy. Immediately, all the mamurra began to growl intensely. A small shriek came from inside, but when I stepped back to better protect the door, all sounds stopped. The growls silenced. The children within scarcely breathed. I held up a hand, and all the black pits followed it.
“Is it safe, yet?” Alice said from within the smithy. She seemed to be impatient and bored. Hopefully she wouldn't get any ideas with these dangers so close by.
“Maybe,” I said over my shoulder. The pack responded to my voice with all tails rising to erect positions. “Send out one of the others,” I suggested. If this was going to hurt anyone, I was not letting it hurt Alice. One of the boys was pushed out, and he looked up at me with terror-filled eyes. The kid's lower lip trembled, but I didn't give him a smile. I would protect Alice, even if I had to sacrifice another.
“Come here,” I told him brusquely. Apparently, I needed to be more specific, though. As the child reached me, so did the new Marca and a couple of the other mamurra. I quickly snatched up the child, but nothing seemed to happen. The boy - Jack maybe - started to cry, but none of the mamurra reacted. They all stared up at me with black eyes in white faces. “This one is a friend. Do not eat him,” I said. The canines milled about me, but the Marca quickly licked the poor kid’s foot and paced in front of me until I had space to put Jack down, which I did very slowly. The boy thrashed slightly and clung to my leg once I put him down, but he didn't die, so I counted it as a win.
Cautiously, a single white form crawled forward, much like my Marca had. I stood over Jack as he cried, but I was pleasantly surprised when the mamurra simply licked at the boy’s hand. On an impulse, I grabbed one of Jack’s hands and placed it on the mamurra’s wide head. A similar crescent glowed on that brow before dissolving into a similar grey mark as my own. “You take care of this one,” I told them. With tail wagging, the mamurra licked at the tears still on the boy’s face, but it didn’t do anything otherwise life threatening. This might even work.
Carefully, I repeated the same process with the other children in the smithy. They cried in varying amounts, but nobody died. Alice was the hardest. “I don’t want another Protector! I have you!” she yelled at me. The poor grovelling mamurra began to whine, but I crouched on my good knee and got level with her.
“Don’t think of it as another me,” I told her, "Let me be your Fierce Protector. This one can be your Protector. They'll answer to me. That better?" I almost told her to think of it like adopting a pet but decided against the analogy. Not only were her pets not the best of creatures, but the mamurra seemed to understand at least a little of what I said. “Think of it as making another friend, as if we’re joining the pack.” Immediately, the mamurra began to bay into the night, those with companion children happily walking circles around their charges. Their braying could split the night much faster than a wolf’s howl, and they happily shredded what was available in their circle. “We are pack,” I tried again. This time, there was a number of yips and excited barks among the baying. Alice seemed to think her new companion funny enough to pat, which luckily resulted in the same crescent mark. Now that we’d avoided one crisis, there was another.
“Momma’s never gonna take me back! I’ve been majiked! I’m not human anymore!” one of the boys cried. His mamurra seemed distressed at the boy’s lack of enthusiasm and broke into a deep whine. I was inclined to leave the whining things to their own devices. Alice was here and safe and might have a new guard in case another dragon showed up, so I was content.
“Tommy! We’re alive because of the majik! Your momma always hated you, anyway! We’re going to a place with no bruises, but there’s going to be majik plenty if it keeps us alive. You wanna go back to your momma? Go!” Alice said. I was surprised at the sudden ferocity, but the comment seemed to strike true. Tommy grew quiet, and though he and his mamurra walked at the back of the pack, they followed us as I led Alice to our supplies and gathered them. It was high time we left this village.
“Alice! Alice, can I come with you?” the other girl said, “Can I go to the place with majik?”
“I suppose you can come, Milly. Jack can come, too if he wants,” Alice said loftily. The moment was slightly ruined as a scream echoed from what should have been Tommy’s house. Calls of monsters and cursed ones flooded from a feminine voice, and Tommy ran back to the pack, tears staining his face. A new bruise was forming on his jaw that bled slightly due to the impact of whatever had struck home.
“I told you Momma wouldn’t take me back! Now what do I do?” Tommy wailed. With a sigh, I stopped by the old bakery.
“I suppose I’ll take care of you, then,” I said. Some of the loaves were still salvageable, and I dumped them into the small bag I carried. Alice shouldn't have to share her food with anyone else.
“You?! I want to go home!” Tommy said. I sighed and collected a little more food and moved among my new charges. As I walked down the street, the pack followed, happily licking at my hands and feet in the most distracting way. They jumped and bayed and raced forward and back, though never in front of me.
“Tommy, we can’t do it on our own yet. It’d be better to live with a halfling than die because of your mother. I bet he’s nicer anyway,” Jack said. He walked among the mamurra as the most comfortable with his furry white companion despite his dramatic introduction. Though he had to reach up to pet the large creature, he scratched the canine’s ears and neck thoroughly. The mamurra reminded me of a big dog, but I quickly shook that thought from me. They were monsters known for their killing prowess, even if this pack was acting strangely.
“I’d rather live with Momma than die with a cursed halfling! It kills everyone it comes in contact with! The troop. This village. I bet it even cursed its own family to die!” Tommy yelled. I winced at the accusations. It had never actually occurred to me that I might be the problem. Would my presence really bring harm to Alice?
“I didn’t die,” Alice pointed out from beside me. I didn’t hear Tommy reply, but he apparently still followed as I led the rest of them out of the remains of the village. Their words troubled me, but I tried not to let it show. That was one thing I had learned as a kid: give them any hint, and they'll pounce on the weakness and doubt.
“What makes you think the halfling is a he? I think she’s much more like my mom than my dad,” Milly said, “and I think she can hear you. You should be nicer.” I smiled slightly at their debate of my gender, but I had to look twice when I glanced their way. Even though I wasn’t sure even the Marca could carry my weight, Milly rode her mamurra like a horse, which made sense, considering her parents’ role in the village. She continued her conversation with the boys as I focused forward again.
Alice tapped my arm as we entered the trees. “Are you a boy or a girl?” she asked when I looked down at her. I smiled and put a finger to my lips before focusing again on the pack of mamurra. Large canines known for killing things now followed my lead. Was it because I’d killed their Marca? That didn’t make sense. Another one walked on my other side, occasionally nipping at other mamurra braisen enough to come close. Was it because of the blood? If it was, I wasn’t going to wash it off until Alice and I could safely escape them. Were they herding us for future food sources? I'd never heard of the tactic before, but if humans, elves, and dragons had come up with it, why couldn't other species?
I continued to walk into the night. A chill filled the starry air, reminding us all that summer was coming to a close. The mamurra followed, and eventually the children fell asleep. Milly slept on her mamurra while Jack attempted the same. Tommy was dragging his feet as his mamurra clamped careful jaws on the kid’s coat until I broke and put him on the dog’s back so they wouldn't fall behind. Alice took some convincing, but she eventually allowed me to put her on the mamurra’s back. They had surprisingly broad shoulders that made carrying children like this rather simple. It was strange to see the children sleeping at at almost chest level, but I resisted the urge to let my guard down.
As the sun rose, the Marca took the lead. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, but my brain was getting tired, and I’d just about lost any idea of what to do next. My supplies were heavy on my shoulders, and my knee felt pressured and weak. I followed the Marca warily until we reached a roomy cave. I hadn’t even realized how drained I was until I slumped to the floor.
The Marca curled up next to me as the rest of the pack settled in for a nice rest. Those with charges let them gently slide to the floor in various states of awareness before curling up around them. The cave quickly went from chilly to a cozy warmth shared by all the large, furry creatures. “You won’t eat us, right?” I asked the Marca drowsily. In response, I got a lick on the hand I raised to brush back my hair. I chuckled and curled up on the floor. Why wouldn’t they, though? Why were these large canines with the capability to handily eat them following him and carrying children?
We Are Pack