MUSH! - 2. Chapter 2

“Hey little brother.” Kinai knocked on his brother’s bedroom door by the virtue of pushing it in with his shoulder. He had to, because his arms were currently occupied with a massive pile of extra bedding topped with a wash kit. “Mom says I gotta come bunk up with you for the duration. Suda and Kal are having my room.”

“I hope you cleaned it for them.” Dinahei folded his arms behind his head and continued to stare at the ceiling from his prone position on the bed. “I suppose Mak and Kipa got his old bedroom?”

“Yeah?” Kinai dumped his stuff down on the single mattress which had been placed in the room earlier on. Dinahei had far from the biggest room in the house, but it still fitted the extra bed in along with his double just fine. “What’s up bro? You look sad.”

The teenager replied by rolling away from his brother to face the wall, hugging a pillow to his chest. The only other thing on the bed with him was the neatly lain out arrangement of his new racing harness. Kinai set out the remainder of his things and took a moment to place the pillows and blankets where he would need them. The black and white husky had not been too distracted by playing with his family not to notice his little brother slinking off into the forest with their cousins. For as long as Kinai could remember, Dinahei had wanted to go everywhere with Socco and Natu, and be wherever they were. That didn’t explain why his little brother was upset. They’d arrived back forty minutes later, all of them looking flushed and happy with tails held high. As far as Kinai had seen, no one else had noticed. Certainly no one had said anything openly.

Shaking his head, Kinai sat on the edge of his brother’s bed and tucked his socked feet under his thighs. He’d been three when Dinahei had been born and Mak was two years older. Kinai often felt like his brothers were always the ones with drama going on in their lives, and he had never found himself envious of them in that regard.

“You asked dad if they could stay in here didn’t you?” Kinai didn’t need Dinahei’s little shake of conformation to work out what had happened. “Oh pup, why did you bother? You knew what he was going to say.”

“It’s not fair!” Dinahei rolled over, half sitting up and snarled at nothing before throwing himself back against the covers of the bed. “There’s not enough space anyway, and it would make total sense for them to be in here!”

“Do I smell or something?” Kinai raised a thick jet brow at his brother and pouted.

“Oh Kinai I didn’t mean that!” Dinahei was quick to put his arms around his brother’s waist, hugging him until the young man had to shake him off or risk asphyxiation. Just because Dinahei was small, did not mean he was weak, far from it. “I wish everyone else could understand the three of us are supposed to be together. Where are they?”

“They’re in the den. The girls are all in the big lounge on the sofas. House is pretty full. I think uncle Kova and Tana are sleeping in a broom cupboard somewhere.”

“Not like when we were all kids and we’d all camp out by the fire hey?” Dinahei sighed wistfully.

“Bro. I do not remember a single one of those ‘campouts’ that didn’t end up with someone getting hurt or shouted at.” Kinai ruffled his little brother’s hair. “Now are you gonna stop sulking and come for cocoa or what?”

Kinai sighed as he followed his brother, the teenager much happier now, lost in better memories. Of course, he wasn’t remembering all the fights, most of which had been between Mak and Socco. There was no love lost between the two cousins, and when Mak and Kipa had gotten officially mated and married when Kipa had been eighteen, everything had only gotten worse. Kinai didn’t understand why his eldest brother made it his job to try and make Dinahei miserable, but he assumed it was for the same reason their father had flat out refused Dinahei’s request to share his room with his favourite cousins: they thought they were protecting him. Kinai had realised a long time ago Dinahei didn’t need anyone protecting him when it came to the men he loved.

He’d been a headstrong pup, the youngest of the entire Sabaakax litter, and from before Kinai could properly remember, he’d known exactly what he wanted. Dinahei had never spent more than a day away from either of the cousins who he adored. As a kid, he’d near worshipped Socco, seven years his senior, and the bigger boy had doted on the little blue and white pup right from the start. Kinai had never seen the harm in it, and had only ever been happy his little brother had found love quickly. And not just love, but love doubled. Kinai was sort of jealous.

It might have been jealousy which made their older brother so angry, or perhaps it was the misguided belief that somehow, Socco and Natu had done something to him to turn his head. Either way, Dinahei took the mug of cocoa from his mother with a small smile, and went instantly to where Natu stood, curling under his arm. Natauq grunted something indistinct and disapproving, but everyone ignored him. Taba and Seeba pulled washing up duty, and then there was a last round to hugs and kisses goodnight before they went back to bed.

Kinai stood in his boxer shorts with one hand on the switch and looked the other way as his youngest brother wiggled into a pair of flannel pyjama pants. It was one thing being naked in company, the ease of all of them switching shapes and grabbing what clothes they could to keep from freezing, but quite another in private. Dinahei had no such notions. He coughed when he was done and rolled his eyes at his brother.

“Seriously?”

“Does it matter?” Kinai flicked the light switch, plunging the little room into total blackness. The dark eased as their vision adjusted, and then Kinai could see the outlines of his brother where he sat in the bed. He found his own makeshift nest and pulled the quilts up over himself as he lay down on his side. “You’re just not embarrassed by anything anymore.”

“Well when you get walked in on losing your virginity by most of your family…” Dinahei’s voice sounded like a shrug. “You gain perspective on these things.”

“It doesn’t seem to stop you from having sex all over the place little brother.”

“Well if they let us stay together, then maybe we wouldn’t have to sneak around.” Dinahei exhaled sharply. “Never mind. Thank you for my Christmas present. Is it true what Natu said? Are we really in the race on Boxing day?”

“Aye, it’s true bud. Get some sleep. It’s practically Christmas.”

“Alright Kinai.” Dinahei yawned. “Night.”

“Dream of running up front bro.” Kinai covered his mouth with one hand and yanked the blankets higher up around his head. No matter what anyone said, sleeping in a nest was way more comfortable than being stretched out. The young man yawned with a creak and curled around his exhaustion until he slept.

*

One navy blue eye opened in the dark as the sound off feet disturbed Kinai’s slumber. It was a ridiculous time in the morning, his body clock was telling him so, and the soft scratch of nails on the exposed areas of the wooden floor had woken him from a shapeless dream in which there were sand and palm trees. Sometimes Kinai wondered what sort of hints his subconscious mind was trying to give him.

“Dinahei?”

There was a soft snuffle and the smallest of whines as Kinai managed to focus on the fluffy shape of his brother.

“Go back to sleep Kinai.” The husky laid his eyes back and waved his tail in a friendly manner. It was very obvious he did not want to be followed.

“Where are you going, in your fur?” Kinai knew the answer to the question long before he whispered the end of the sentence.

“Out. Go to sleep brother.” The husky turned and slunk out of the open doorway.

Kinai lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. Had he not been sharing a room with his little brother, he might have found Taba, or she might have found him, and they’d have screwed if they were both horny enough and it was mutually convenient. For some people, being out running the trails was as good as a verdict of abstinence. His and Taba’s relationship was one of general opportunistic sex and fucking, but never did they screw in their fur. To do such a thing was much too intimate. Kipa and Mak, being the only officially mated shifter couple in the team, obviously spent all of their time together. For Suda, forced to be away from his mate, Kinai understood it was both a form of sweet torture and a relief in a small way to feel again that he was his own dog and man. But for Dinahei, trail runs were the time he looked forwards to, because he could be with his lover’s without the harsher judgement of their parents and their family. No amount of hugs and kisses and welcome home candles was going to change that. Kinai wondered if Mak were denied the husky he loved, how long such a rule would be allowed to last.

He could have gone back to sleep. He could have taken advantage of the unexpected privacy and allowed both mind and hands to wander. But Kinai was nothing if not the most curious of the Sabaakax children. He got up, grabbed the quilt from his bed to wrap around his shoulders and stepped out into the hallway.

The Sabaakax home was built on the principles of warmth, comfort and the ability to be easily cleaned of large amounts of husky fur. Kinai trod softly on the polished wooden floor, running his fingers along the pine panelling of the walls for guidance. The lights were lit on the giant Christmas tree and Kinai stopped to watch the soft glow through half closed eyelashes. There were a mound of presents under the tree, sparkly wrapping paper and bits of string. Most of the things under all the wrapping were practical, functional, and useful. An awful lot of them would be homemade too. Buying large numbers of expensive and useless gifts shipped in from Outside did not go hand in hand with living in the high north and being generally self-sufficient.

The girls were asleep in the lights from the tree and the dying fire. Kinai sighed and rolled his eyes. His female cousins could never be trusted to keep a fire alive. Anysie grumbled in her sleep as Kinai stepped over her to stoke the fire and add a few more logs until the blaze sprang up again. Cenai mumbled indistinctly, but Kinai was sure he’d heard his little brother’s name and the word ‘mush’ in there somewhere. He left the big lounge and headed down the long passageway, past the doors of many sleeping adults, towards the den.

Natu and Socco were Kinai’s only un-mated male cousins. And they were far from un-mated. The den was the third of the living room areas in the house and had been built on a slightly different floor plan which meant it was down some steps and a slightly funny shape where the roof of the room had been made to fit the natural formations of the land outside. Kinai did not need his sensitive shifter hearing to understand what was going on in the den, and he couldn’t have explained afterwards why he did it, but he sat on the wide wooden step and peaked through the crack in the door.

There was a small fire burning in the little potbellied stove, and the light spilling out through the vertical slats in the door cast plenty of light by which to see. Kinai had expected to find the three huskies locked in some slightly complicated tangle of limbs and cocks, but it was not so. Dinahei lay in front of the fire, with Socco’s muzzle resting on his shoulder blades, Natu sitting upright, huffing softly. Kinai shed his boxers and turned furry in his blanket in order to better hear the particulars of what was being said.

“Another one? Aren’t you tired pup?”

“I’m not sleepy,” replied Dinahei. His voice was of one who was staying awake by sheer willpower alone.

“Alright babe. This story happens in the winter, on a cold clear day just like today.” Natu paused. “There once was a man who loved the sun. He loved the sun so fiercely that whenever it’s light shone over the world of the far, far north, he would seek to look at it as much as he could. When the sun dropped again below the horizon for her long sleep, he would fall sad and tired.

“Then one day a man came, a visiting traveller from the world Outside. With him he brought a special jar. He told the man who loved the sun that he could use the jar to capture the light of the sun and keep it for himself. Now of course, the traveller simply thought only a little of the light would be trapped, and only for a short while: but he was wrong.”

Kinai cocked his ear closer to the door. This was not a story he already knew. For a passing moment he wondered why his little brother would sneak out of his room to simply listen to bedtime stories.

“The man waited for the sun to rise and then he opened the jar. Nothing happened, and, angry with himself for wasting money, the man threw the jar away. But there it lay in the snow, forgotten as people passed it by, open, and collecting the sunlight. When the sun vanished that evening, a strong storm hit, and the jar was buried by the snow. The snow made a lid on the jar, freezing it shut, and the light was kept inside.

“The following day, there was no sun. None at all and all the people panicked. Realising what he must have done, the man searched everywhere for the jar, but it was in vain, because the snow had lain so thickly the light of the sun jar could not be seen at all. The light could not get back out, because of the ice lid on the jar. In the spring, when the ice began to thaw, the sunlight flooded back into the world. Now, every year when the snow falls thick enough, it covers the jar and- Oh…” Natu let his voice trail away. “I think that might have done it.” The grey brindled husky yawned, and lay down along his young lovers other side. Socco twitched his feet and whimpered. “Wait up babe. I’m coming…” With another huge yawn, Natu closed his eyes, and all in the room was still and quiet but for the sounds of three huskies breathing.

Kinai blinked hard, and decided the light from the stove was making his eyes water. He gathered up his boxers after he shifted, put them on, and wrapped the quilt around himself again to walk back to his little brother’s bedroom. Soft noises from the kitchen, wood and ceramic clunking quietly together, distracted him.

“Gran-mama?” Yakona Sabaakax was standing in the brightly lit kitchen, wooden spoon in hand.

“Kinai, little pup what are you doing out of bed?” She admonished him gently, smiling all the while. The kitchen was not only one of the biggest rooms in the whole house, but it was also warmest. Kinai slumped into a seat opposite where his great-grandmother was working.

“What are you doing gran-mama?”

“Making stuffing pup.” Yakona titled the bowl to show off the mixture of meat and breadcrumbs inside. “You want to pass me that bowl with the fruits in?”

Kinai sniffed at the heady mix of alcohol soaked apricots, cranberries and prunes. The fruits would have been expensive, shipped in from Outside, and Kinai pinched a bright orange apricot from the bowl with his sharp fingernails as he handed it across.

“How can you stuff a caribou?” He asked, yawning around his hand.

“I’m doing a rolled roast. Three actually, both hind legs and the back strap. Your uncle Pakak shot him for me and your mother and I deboned him yesterday before you arrived.” Kinai looked excited at this. “And yes, the antlers are in the cold store waiting for you to add them to your collection. You can have them in the morning. Now pass me the butchers twine.”

Kinai handed over the strong white twine and watched his great-grandmother thread the thick needle. He’d always liked to watch her, or any of the adults in the family, cook. There was something about cooked food which Kinai found deeply fascinating. Spending large amounts of time as a husky meant food on the go was tough and raw and usually frozen. Cooked food, things from recipes and ingredients from Outside, were a luxury which was not often afforded to the pups. Even the adults would chose to eat a dog’s dinner sometimes, especially in summer when the body’s need to keep warm wasn’t as great. A shifter could live very well on a diet of frozen fish and seal meat as long as he did not ignore his human body too.

The young man folded his arms onto the table and rested his chin on them, watching his great-grandmother at work; transforming the big slabs of meat and stuffing into neat rolls which would roast beautifully in the oven. His great-grandmother wrapped bacon around the meats and Kinai helped to stud an enormous ham with dark strongly scented cloves. Kinai watched her peeling potatoes, the skins falling onto the table top in little curls, the clean white vegetables dropping into a tin pail of cold water. Kinai yawned softly. Only when his blinks started to become longer and longer and he began to jerk awake rather than simply smile, did she send him to bed.

“Go on pup. I’ll still be here in the morning.”

“Aren’t you tired too Gran-mama?” Kinai failed to stifle his massive yawn, his hand coming too late. Yakona reached out and ruffled his hair.

“Go back to sleep kiddo. In an actual bed. Goodnight.”

Kinai hauled himself up, his blanket trailing after him.

“Good morning.” He replied through sleep. It wasn’t far to Dinahei’s room, and Kinai didn’t remember crawling into his brother’s empty bed to fall asleep.

*

“He’s in my bed.”

“So he is.”

“I reckon you should jump on him. That’ll wake him up.” Natu’s smirk was evident, even with Kinai’s head under the covers. He grumbled, and when a weight leant against the edge of the bed, he struggled out from under the quilt.

“I’m awake!” Dinahei, Natu and Socco all stood watching him, not wearing a scrap of clothing between them. “Jesus.” He rolled over again and buried his head under a pillow which was quickly snatched away. He turned upright to find Dinahei sitting on his chest. “What?”

“Why are you in my bed?”

“Why did you sneak off to the den?” Kinai snapped back. He did not want to be awake, it was too early, and he’d been more exhausted by being up late in the kitchen than he had originally thought.

Dinahei’s blue eyes went wide and Socco growled from where he stood leaning against the wall.

“Don’t tell dad!”

“I won’t.” Kinai rolled his eyes. “Now get off me!” Sitting up in bed Kinai threw one of the extra quilts at the three naked men in the room. “Less keen on being woken up by this many penis’s at once lads…” The navy eyed man muttered. “What do you want?”

“Will you mush for us?” Natu was the one who asked, having wrapped the quilt around himself while Socco stole a pair of Dinahei’s boxers. They were a bit small for him, but Dinahei seemed to like the effect. Kinai threw another blanket at his younger brother to cover his swelling crotch.

“You wanna take the team out?” Kinai clarified.

“No. Just us. Please Kinai.” Dinahei sat on the edge of the bed, now covered up. “I wanna take my present on a Christmas morning run.”

Kinai raised an eyebrow. As much as he loved his little brother, he didn’t fancy being the fourth wheel to their private time. He said as much, but Socco interrupted him.

“It’s nothing like that Kinai. The pup just wants to run, so do the rest of us. No one else will take us out with the little rig; and you know that.”

“Cenai might.” Natu sighed. “But the girls are still super asleep.”

“I was super asleep.” Kinai complained.

“Yeah, in my bed!” Dinahei shoved his brother good-naturedly. “You owe me.”

“Alright. Fuck… merry Christmas to you guys too.” Kinai ran a hand through his short hair and sighed. “Fine. Get me my socks. My feet are still cold from wandering around after you guys all night.”

Socco, Natu and Dinahei all froze, staring at their friend.

“Ah, fuck.” Kinai nipped up out of bed, grabbed for socks, boxers and a pair of jeans in quick succession. “Go get changed and meet me in the shed!”

Dinahei’s bark of excitement echoed down the passage as Kinai struggled into his clothes, and he ran to keep up with the three dogs.

The ‘little rig’ was a welded all steel mini sled with a fabric sled bag which could hold enough food for the team for three days. You could fit three dogs in there to sleep instead if the weather was really rough. Sighai and Lena had made it for the kids back when only Suda, Socco and Mak had their fur and were strong enough to pull. Over the years there had been any number and combination of dogs pulling the little rig, and Natu had once shared the tug with his mother for one glorious afternoon in the spring sunlight on good snow, running errands in town.

Kinai wrapped the last straps on his favourite boots around his lower leg, pulled on a second pair of weather proof trousers over the top and tucked his three layers of thick shirts into them. It might have been the part of the day where the sun was up, but it was still December in Anchorage and it was ten degrees below freezing. Hat, hood and gloves, and Kinai looked up to find Dinahei in his new harness, Natu and Socco wearing their old weight pulling gear, and Kinai hooked their traces one by one to the sled. He decided to run an arrowhead formation, because Natu and Socco were pretty well matched and about the same size, and they both loved to chase Dinahei.

“Ready boys? Mush!”

Christmas morning in Anchorage was bright and cold and the three strong huskies could pull the weight of Kinai and the little sled without any trouble at all. They headed cross country until they hit Hillside Drive and then Kinai yelled a hard “Haw!” even though he didn’t really need to and leant into the turn as the three dogs swung left onto O’Malley Road. They changed roads until they were running right into downtown and Socco barked as they past Charlie’s Produce and on up King’s road towards the wonderful scents of the fish market. There wouldn’t be anyone trading today, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t the need for last minute smoked salmon. Dinahei slowed to a trot and Kinai didn’t bother with the brake as he jumped from the sled. One slightly frozen side of smoked salmon was stuffed into the back on the sled, a great big hug from the polar bear that ran the smokehouse and a piece of frozen tail-end for each of the dogs and they were on their way again heading north.

They made a big loop around Taku Lake and headed back south towards home. Kinai clicked to the dogs as they ran, and they sped up as they came down the Campbell Creek Trail. There were plenty of people out and about on Christmas morning. The pious returning from Church, people out visiting, taking presents to family and walking their dogs. There were plenty of normal dogs in Anchorage, what with it being the biggest city in the state, and Kinai passed a moment of sorrow for the dogs who didn’t know the love of running, the delight of a tight tug and sheer joy of pulling in a team. Of course, he also felt sorry for every musher who was just a man who stood behind and didn’t know the wonder of the pull. His father had always said there was a fine sort of madness which sled-drivers entered into, a crazy sort of head space, and Kinai knew the men and woman who ran and raced dogs were lucky and blessed in their own right. But he didn’t envy them. Better to run, to leap forward in the harness and be free.

Kinai didn’t try to steer the sled at all as they ran back across the open land between the edge of town and the trailhead, just leant into the corners and watched his brother and his cousins run. Dinahei had all the makings of a good lead dog, whatever Mak said. The kid was strong in his own way, light and precise on his feet, and he was already learning how to bend the lines, where to pick the trail. Socco was the best point dog there was, and he and Natu loved to chase the flashing white tail of their boy. Natu had been right. They had run harder home because the three lead dogs had been pulling like hell. With the right amount of training, Dinahei could grow up into a great lead dog. If everyone else let him that is.

They arrived into the yard barking and yapping, and sure enough, there were four candles lit in the little window by the door. Gran-mama always knew when her pups had gone out. Dinahei refused to get out of his harness, again. Kinai walked into the big house with an armful of parchment wrapped salmon and three huskies in high spirits. The girls were up in the big lounge, wearing flannel pyjamas and blankets over their shoulders. Seeba and Anysie were snuggled up together on one armchair, sharing hot cocoa with whipped cream and Kinai wondered why no one stopped them from being cute. His grandparents were already up, as were Natu’s parents. There was no sign of Mak and Kipa, and Kinai assumed they were sleeping in. Even after his older brother had moved out, Kinai still hadn’t got the bigger bedroom, or the bigger bed that accompanied it.

Kinai got water for the dogs, and flopped down into a chair as people began to arrive for the morning. Yakona appeared from the kitchen with bacon scraps, which Dinahei and the boys wolfed down in a very literal manner, and Taba jumped up and took the salmon from Kinai with a quick smile and went to make little breakfast canapés. When Ujarak appeared, swathed in a long woollen coat and wearing felt and reindeer mukluks, all the cubs yapped and smiled and cries of ‘Merry Christmas’ abounded as Kell began to hand out the stockings. There were tangerines and chocolate coins, soap and shampoo, little presents wrapped with shiny paper. Dinahei’s stocking, along with several others, had rawhide dog chews and antler chunks; Socco had a tough spiked rubber ball that squeaked when he bit it.

There were presents under the tree. New sets of booties for some of the kids; Socco, Natu, Cenai and Kinai also got racing harnesses, sewn by Lena at the sled shop, but not as flashy as Dinahei’s was; Mak gave Kipa an expensive and very impractical necklace and Dinahei rolled his eyes as his brother and sister-in-law became overly cute with each other. Kinai and his brothers gave their parents a pair of well-matched reindeer skins they had picked up on a delivery run back in November; Anysie gifted her parents a lovely cherry wood framed photo of her – twice, once in a nice woollen dress and once in her fur, and magically sitting next to each other on the big maple picnic table in the back garden; Kinai’s grandparents gave him a snow dog calendar he was never likely to use.

Dinahei was wrapped in a blanket on the floor, forced back to being human shaped by the desire to eat salmon with soft cheese, when Suda hugged his mate and got up with a little bag of presents.

“What have you been up to sweetheart?” Opik asked with a raised eyebrow as her eldest son began to move around the room with his little bag of secrets. Suda found something in the bag for his parents, kissed them both and moved on. He came to Natu, Dinahei and Socco last. Kinai watched from the armchair.

“And this is for you guys.” He crouched down and held out the last item from the bag. It was a piece of whale bone, maybe six inches long, and that was where the similarities to the other scrimshaws Suda had given each of the mated couples in his family ended. Adorning the surface of the bone, brought out in sharp relief by a small amount of deep navy dye, was a detailed and beautiful carving of three huskies, unmistakably Dinahei and his mates, together in the snowy white background of the sea-ivory. “Merry Christmas.”

“Oh Suda it’s lovely.” Natu stroked the top of the scrimshaw and gave his brother a one armed hug. “Thank you.”

“Well, I spent all year doing them for everyone else. I figured you guys would like one too. Maybe you can put it on your mantelpiece one day.” Suda ruffled Dinahei’s hair and grinned at Socco. “You never know.”

Mak’s growls made all of them turn from their appreciation of Suda’s presents. Despite the fact the brown haired man was sitting in a comfy armchair with his mate swinging her legs in his lap, and holding an antler scrimshaw carved with native Inuit floral designs, his yellow eyes were sparked with rage.

Kinai couldn’t help it. He wasn’t the target of his brother’s anger, or the source, but the mere fact Mak was showing his teeth across the room on Christmas day, when everything was otherwise pleasant and friendly, made him equally mad. He snarled.

“Boys…” Oki’s warning was low and terse, and full of latent anger for his grandchildren. “Stop it.”

“But-” Mak was tense. He looked like a coiled spring and was spoiling for a fight.

“No but’s.” Urajak’s voice cut right through the tension in the room and Kinai dropped his gaze. Mak started the beginnings of another growl, but was cut off by his alpha. “Go for a run Mak. Go and get rid of whatever anger you’re holding onto.” When Mak didn’t move, Ujarak gnashed his teeth. “I said go!” Mak grumbled, handed his present to his mate and huffed out of the back door, slamming it behind him.

“Well then.” Kal wiped her hands on her boot cut jeans and stood up. “Whose gonna help me lay the table?”

*

After the world’s largest dinner, a mound of washing up taller than Suda and several play fights with huge amounts of suds and water getting all over the floor, the Sabaakax clan spent their Christmas afternoon lazing around. They flopped on sofas, chairs and rugs in the den and the two lounges; Suda and Kal vanished to their borrowed room and came back an hour later looking happy; Lena and Sighai vanished completely and never came back at all. Kinai took a book from his great-grandparents extensive library and began to read about the gold-rushes of the late eighteen hundreds which had shaped the land in which he lived. It was a topic that had been covered at school, and allowed his mind to wander into various other conversations.

“Shouldn’t we go out on a training run? The race is tomorrow.” Natu asked, lying on his front on the hearth rug, chin resting on his knuckles.

“We should.” Socco rolled onto his back, tossing his antler chew up in the air and catching it one handed. “You think the whole team will come?”

Kinai raised an eyebrow and rolled his eyes.

“I saw that.”

“Sorry bud.” Kinai abandoned his book. “You saw Mak this morning, there is no way he’s gonna race tomorrow. And only five of us have the right harnesses.”

“We can race in the pulling gear.” Natu replied. “It’s only thirty miles.”

“And what exactly are you four plotting?” Nocus wandered in with thick sea-boot socks and a steaming mug of coffee. “You’re not still taunting each other with this racing thing are you?”

Socco rolled up onto his side and sat up.

“What’s wrong with us racing?” The brown eyed young man asked. “We’re a fast team, the prize money can be good and we’ve got all the gear.”

“Not all the gear.” Kinai chipped in.

“We can get the gear.” Socco snapped softly. “It’s a qualifying race.”

“Qualifying for what?” Nocus frowned at the four of them and his voice went up a decibel. “The Boxing Day Thirty is a qualifying race for what?”

Dinahei mumbled low enough none of them could hear him.

“What?”

“For the Iditarod.” Dinahei snapped. “We’re gonna qualify for the race in March.”

“You’re going to do WHAT?” When a shifter like Nocus shouted, everyone came running.

Socco and Natu both scrambled up, and Kinai hauled his little brother up from the floor so the four of them stood together against the anger and latent challenge of their uncle.

“You’re too young!”

“We’re adults!”

“He is too young!” Nocus snarled, making a dismissive gesture towards Dinahei. “You cannot possibly think of running over a thousand miles with a teenager as your lead dog!”

“What on earth are you all fighting about?” Sivoy growled at his son and his nephew. Socco’s grandfather was not a tall man, and Socco took much more after his lofty grandmother. Socco was careful not to seem to threatening, but he bared his teeth quickly at his uncle.

“They want to race in the Iditarod.” Nocus snapped. “It’s madness.”

“We can do it.”

“Not with just four of you.”

“There are more than four of us in the sled team.” Natu growled. “Why else did everyone train us to pull?”

“We’re huskies. It’s what we do.” Sivoy growled.

“EXACTLY!” Socco shouted back. “It’s what we do! We run, we pull, and we run fast. The team was designed to race! We’re supposed to do this.”

“And how exactly are you going to convince the rest of the team to join you?” Sivoy’s eyes were hard and narrow. “I am speaking to your father.”

“Go ahead!” Socco threw his chew toy across the room, but he didn’t smash anything. It was a good throw. “I’m going out.”

“You think we should go after him?” Kinai asked gently.

“God no.” Natu replied. “When he’s that spiky you’re likely to get your head ripped off. Let him be.”

“We should find the others.” Dinahei sighed. “Meet me in the shed?”

“Ten minutes.” Natu replied. “Kinai, grab the girls.”

*

“I am not running.”

“Ever?” Kinai barked at his older brother. “You’re gonna quit the team?”

“No.” Mak crossed his arms over his chest. “We’ll never make it in one piece. It’s over a thousand miles!”

“We’ve gone further in one trip.” Cenai sat on the edge of the long sled, playing with the hem of her new gloves.

“Not in less than ten days we haven’t.” Kipa put her arms around her mate’s shoulders. “Even if we did eighty miles a day we wouldn’t make it.”

“We don’t have to win.” Anysie ran her short fingernails down the webbing straps of her harness hanging on the wall. “People take anything up to a month to complete the race.”

“Because we can afford to spend a month running across the Interior.” Suda rolled his eyes. “If we do this we have to place. Top ten get the best prize money.”

“The ‘if’ we do this is a massive if.” Seeba made little quotation marks around the word as she spoke. “Wouldn’t we be better to wait for next year, get a decent amount of training in? The race is in two months.”

Natu sighed.

“We’ve waited years to do this. We all have our fur and we’ve spent the whole of the season running all through the Interior.” He glanced quickly at his mates. “We’ve even been as far as Nome. We know the terrain and Dinahei’s proved he’s strong enough to lead.”

Mak scoffed, and Socco snarled.

“Guys…” Kinai did not want to get in the middle of two strong dogs waiting to fight each other.

“But we’ve never raced.” Seeba sighed. “And who’s going to drive?”

“We’ll all do it, take turns, just like we always do.” Natu shrugged. “It’ll be fine.”

“And how exactly do you think that is going to work?” Suda shook his head. “One person wins the Iditarod. One. We can’t be swapping out all the time, people will notice, even with the same clothes. We’ll need to get references and forms filled out. One of us will have to do the whole thing, and all of the qualifying races.”

“Ah shit.”

“So who’s going to do it?”

“How are we going to race tomorrow without a musher?”

“I’m still not racing.” Mak stated. “Not tomorrow anyway. And I ain’t driving.”

“And what then?” Dinahei snarled at his eldest sibling.

“Figure out who’s going to drive, and six of you can take a little rig for tomorrow’s race. If you place, we’ll see about training for the Iditarod.”

“You want to do this.” Cenai accused her cousin lightly. “You were always a crap liar Mak.”

“I am not running a thousand miles behind those three.” Mak spat. “Not unless we’re going to do well.” He turned on Dinahei, Natu and Socco. “Place tomorrow and you can have your race.” Putting an arm around Kipa’s waist, he shook his head in despair and left.

“I’ll run with you.” Suda sighed. “You’re going to need a wheel dog.”

Kinai counted on his fingers.

“Suda, me, Dinahei, Natu and Soc. We need another two.”

“One surely.”

“Six to run, one to drive.”

“I’m in.” Cenai ruffled her brother’s hair. “You two would be lost without me.”

“And Anysie makes seven.” Kinai smiled at his pale, yellow eyed second cousin. “We’ve got ourselves a team.”

“So.” Anysie grinned toothily, looking smug. “We gonna draw lots for the driver’s position or what?”

“Dad’s gonna be pissed.” Taba muttered. “You know he’s gone and told uncle Sighai already.”

“And everyone else.” Seeba shook her head. “Mak and Kipa aren’t going to be helping our case any. We’d better get in there.”

Natu hung up the new racing harnesses over the top of their old weight pulling gear. The new harnesses were smaller, sleeker, and all of them were more colourful. Kinai spared a look at the little rig. That morning, the three huskies had managed to get the lightweight sled up to ten miles an hour, without even trying hard. Double the pulling power was going to stand them in good stead for the race, even though they would be up against sprint teams who trained for short distances all year round. The team had stamina as a whole, but Kinai doubted a dog like his cousin Suda could keep up with fast speeds for the whole race. If they did this, it would be the first of many races, including middle distance runs of over two hundred miles in order to qualify for the Iditarod.

“You lied to Sivoy.” Kinai jostled his little brother’s shoulder as they headed for the house. “The Thirty mile race isn’t a qualifier for anything.”

“I know.”

“So why bother? I doubt anyone would have blown up over one measly little race.”

“In February we’ll need to travel to Dawson city for the qualifier. You want to delay the arguments until then?” Socco knocked Kinai’s head forwards with a little shake. “Best get it out of the way.”

“Have you any idea how much work we’re going to have to do now?” Suda sighed as they walked across the yard. “We need a musher to give us a reference, there are about three thousand forms to fill out and we’ll need more harnesses and a new sled for the race. And admission fees. Are you sure you’ve thought this through Soc?”

“Yeah?” Socco hugged his lover. “I think so. Who’s gonna drive?”

“Come on, the parents will be missing us.”

Back in the house, Mak was sitting with Kipa in the prized spot in the front of the fire looking smug and self-satisfied. As soon as Socco and Dinahei walked in behind Kinai, everything went mad. Growling, snarling, snapping and shouting; it was a cacophony of angry noise and arguing. Dinahei clung to his two lovers and Socco bared his teeth. Everything was mad, and the nine of them who had stayed in the shed stood together without turning their backs to any of the adults that were shouting.

“STOP!”

Everyone turned to Urajak. The silver grey husky glowered at each and every one of them with hard blue eyes. His tail was down, ears laid back and hackles raised. He snarled. Dinahei whimpered in response and every single one of them stopped speaking. The husky sat and swept his tail around his feet neatly.

“Nocus?”

“They want to enter that damn stupid race!”

“Indeed. Socco?”

“We can do it gran-papa. I know we can.”

“The eleven of you are agreed on this?”

“Yes.” Dinahei nodded in time with Socco’s answer. “Well, after tomorrow we will be.”

“Mak?”

“They place in the top ten, I’ll race. Why not?”

“Quit arguing then. It’s Christmas.” The alpha turned to the pups that stood together. “You lot, come with me.”

In the den Urajak sat on the knotted rug where Kinai had watched and listened to Natu telling the boys he loved bedtime stories. Each one of them shucked their clothes and shifted into their fur as they joined their great-grandfather. There ended up being one white, one black and five mixed colour dogs facing the silver husky. Taba and Seeba had not followed them.

“Which one of you won’t be wearing fur for your race tomorrow?” Ujarak sighed and laid back one ear. “And every other race this season.”

“Suda can’t.” Socco shook out his ruff. “He’s too strong a wheel dog. Dinahei needs to lead out front and Anysie has the best feet.”

“Cenai could do it?” Suda volunteered.

“Yeah. I can.” Cenai wagged her tail happily.

“No. She’d be the only female rookie this season, I’ve checked the lists.” Socco explained. “And the few women who run are always under extra scrutiny, we can’t afford that. Not if we want to place in the top ten like Suda wants us too.”

“OK, Natu then.” Cenai replied. “He’s best at being human, nice and light, easy to pull.”

“No.”

“Gran-papa?” Natu flicked an ear gently. “Why not?”

“Socco is best at reading the team. He’s a good driver even though he doesn’t want to admit it.” Suda smiled. “And he signed up. He’s nice and photogenic, and Dinahei and Natu will run harder for him, won’t you boys?”

Dinahei barked happily.

“It’s a lot of time on the sled.” Socco folded his ears and laid his muzzle on the ground, clearly miserable.

“It’ll be good for you, and for your standing.” Kinai smiled. “You know it will make your sister and your father respect you more.”

Natu licked the side of his lover’s muzzle.

“It’s not all bad Soc. You were the one who wanted to do this thing. Don’t you want the glory?”

“I want to be with you guys.”

“Sap.” Anysie barked. “You were always a softie.”

Socco tried to growl, but it wasn’t very effective from his prone position on the floor, and he simply sounded grumpy.

“I’ll make you a deal.” Ujarak kept his tone low and measured, looking straight at Socco, and every single one of the huskies perked up. “You will mush for the team, the team will do well, you’ll enjoy yourselves; and when you get back from Nome, I will make it so the three of you can live together. Permanently.”

Socco blinked hard, twice. Natu wagged his tail again.

“Really?”

“Do we have a deal?”

Kinai could practically hear Socco thinking it over. Nine days or more straight wearing skin, not being allowed to run with his family and the boys he loved, having to steer, be human, be at the back and being responsible. But the promise of having his mates with him, Kinai knew what a powerful draw that was for the three of them. Dinahei’s eyes were shining and Natu’s tail was curled up over his back excitedly.

“Do we have a deal Socco?”

“Yes sir.”

“The seven of you had best go for a training run. Off you go. Mush!”