When dawn broke over the horizon, Lucky opened gritty eyes and couldn’t keep himself from wishing that it had delayed a few more hours. When he got his paws under him and rose up, the muscles protested the action. He stretched carefully, easing the tension in his muscles. The remainder of his night had not been very restful and he was certain that he had dreamed of the burning gryphon. Its burning countenance had blazed its way through his dreams the entire night, keeping him from truly resting. Girl didn’t seem any better rested than he was when she crawled her way blearily out of bed, rubbing at her sleep crusted eyes.

“Wha’time’zit?” She grumbled, all one word.

Lucky panted through an amused grin. “No clue. Sometime near dawn though.”

“Too early.” She countered, looking longingly at the bed.

“We need to get going.” Lucky said. He wanted to go back to sleep just as badly as she did. Yet there was that looming feeling of disaster within him that continually pressed him forward.

She rubbed at her eyes again, yawning hugely. “M’up.” She finally mumbled before stumbling toward the bathroom.

How was she going to handle leaving the safe confines of the Farm? Lucky wondered to himself as he plodded over to the bed and nosed at the gray squirrel that slept on the other pillow. The squirrel leapt immediately to his feet and bounded up to the top of the headboard, eyes roaming the room.

“Don’t do that.” He chittered in admonishment.

Another panting laugh escaped Lucky as he watched the squirrel begin to groom himself. “Sorry.”

“Are not.” The squirrel fired back with a disgruntled huff.

Lucky dropped his head, looking sadly up from under his copper brows. The squirrel just eyed him sternly as he groomed his tail. Finally Lucky lifted his head with his tongue lolling, “Okay, maybe not.”

The squirrel finished his grooming and leapt down to the bed then over onto Lucky’s back. “Breakfast first?”

“Yes, breakfast.” Lucky turned and padded from the room with his tail wagging contentedly behind him. He knew he had to leave this place to seek answers to the questions that plagued him, to find an End to the End, but he wasn’t eager to do so. The people here were depending on him and the Pack for their protection, but they also offered a certain amount of security to the Pack. Without the humans, food would be harder to come by, not to mention shelter. There was something to be said for banding together to ride out the End. Something important.

But not right.

As long as they tucked themselves away here safely, they would never get the answers they sought, never find the source of the hot wind that had so carelessly taken so many lives. Where did the skitterings come from? What was their purpose? Who were the riders? Had aliens landed on Earth determined to colonize it and take it for their own? Or plunder it for resources, strip it bare and leave an empty husk behind?

The kitchen and living room of the Big House were a bustle of activity when Lucky and Quick padded in. He wasn’t moving quickly, in no hurry to say goodbye to everyone. The light conversation in the Kitchen stopped when Lucky sauntered in and all eyes turned to the big multicolored dog.

His pale eyes scanned the room, the council was all present as well as Gran and a few other people, making the room much too crowded. Lucky stopped just past the threshold and he felt Quick climb the fur on the scruff of his neck and peep over the top of his head between his ears. Those ears were slowly folding back to lay against his skull as the intensity of the room swept over him.

“You’re not leaving.” Steel-Beard’s arms were folded across his chest, muscles bulging beneath a tight black t-shirt.

“I am.” Lucky said simply. “With or without your blessings. There is too much to be done to stay here. We need to find more survivors, find out what happened in the City, figure out where the Nalzhurn come from. We can’t do that if we dig ourselves in behind walls and never venture forth.”

Steel-Beard’s brows drew together as he looked down at the dog. “I don’t disagree.” He said after a long moment of quiet. “We need to find the answers to our questions, but why does it have to be you?”

Lucky’s face tightened into a frown as he considered those words. Why did it have to be him? Couldn’t anyone go outside the fence and find the answers? Seek survivors? Why did Lucky have to be the one? He shifted awkwardly from one forepaw to the other, his tail stilling behind him and straightening so it no longer curled up over his back. “I was chosen.” He said at last. “I can’t believe that I was chosen to cower behind ever strengthening defenses.”

The big man just snorted. “Are you calling the rest of us cowards?”

“Of course not.” Lucky protested. “You have been brave already and I’m sure you’ll be braver still before this is all over. It’s not cowardly to create a safe place for yourself and others, to defend that place. It’s smart.”

“So why leave?”

Lucky’s shoulders hunched and his head drooped between them he lowered his eyes to stare at the worn linoleum of the kitchen floor. “You know, I’ve realized something in the last week. Something I never knew about myself.”

Steel-Beard tilted his head to one side, stroking his namesake beard. “Oh? And what’s that?”

The big dog rose up on his hindlegs, leaning forward to lay his right paw on Steel-Beard’s shoulder, he looked the big man in the eyes. “I am not a leader of men.”

“You’ve led us this far.” The man protested.

Lucky shook his head, a very human gesture that broke the eye contact. “No. You have followed. I have not led.” He dropped back onto four paws. “And I will not. I can lead the Pack. I can be a leader to them, but not for this strange Flock of mankind that has gathered on the Farm. I am not your leader.” He paused for a moment, looking up into Steel-Beard’s face. “I don’t want to be your leader. I’m just a dog.”

“Is that what this is about?” It was Man’s warm voice that interrupted the back and forth between Lucky and Steel-Beard. “You’re more than just a dog.”

The big dog blew a breath heavily through his nose. “But I am a dog, Man. That isn’t going to change, ever.”

“You are much more than just a dog.” Man protested. “You’ve been guiding us since this started.”

“It’s only been a week, less for most of you. A week ago tomorrow I saw the grass-words for the first time.” Lucky shifted his weight again from one paw to another as he struggled to find the words to explain himself. “I’ve tried to keep up with everything, tried to do my part, any part, every part.” He blew out a heavy sigh, shoulders slumping slightly. “That’s not what I’m here for though. I know that now. I wasn’t Chosen to lead the Flock, to maintain a society for this small bit of mankind. You must lead yourselves. Clash will take care of the Pack while we are gone.”

“But we can’t talk to Clash.” Man protested.

“You can, you just don’t know it yet. Work at it. It’s what I did. Work at a lot of things. As far as I know, Gir-Isobel is the only human who has a class. Most of the dogs do now and a few of the coyotes even.” Lucky tilted his head to one side, meeting Man’s eyes with a curious expression. “Why don’t more humans have classes?” The question sounded a bit like a challenge.

“How should I know?” Steel-Beard was the one who answered.

“Because most of you haven’t been being who you are.” Lucky said.

“What the heck does that even mean?” Steel-Beard demanded.

“Being who we are?” Man said at almost the same time. “What does that mean?”

“I think it’s how the System offers classes and stuff.” Lucky began, trying to explain a thought that was still just circling about in his mind, not quite fully formulated. “When you become who you are, it offers you the class that makes you true.”

“What?” Both men echoed, arms crossing and brows drawing together like mirror images of one another.

“Think about it. [Howling Shepherd of the Flock], [Wild Bulwark of the Hound], [Blue Heeler], [Indomitable Fang], [Wildfire Berserker]? Do I even need to tell you who has what class?”

The men both looked puzzled.

Lucky was taken aback by their expressions. “Really, wow.” He shook himself and Quick latched onto his collar to stay firmly seated. “I guess you don’t know the others like I do. It doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t.” It almost sounded like he was trying to convince himself that it didn’t matter. “The point is that the System seems to know the core of us all, know what we value and what we really want to be. It’s like it’s trying to make us into the most perfect self we can be.” He shook himself again, Quick clinging tightly. “It doesn’t matter.” He said it again, but he didn’t feel it. “We’re going, with or without your blessing. We’ll come back, probably frequently while we try to figure out where we’re going and what we’re even looking for. We’ll bring survivors and supplies as we find them. It might even be a good idea to send out a second group once we have stabilized the Farm enough. For now, though, just let us go. It’s the right thing, I feel it.”

Steel-Beard shook his head, arms still crossed across his torso and a stern expression in his eyes. “We can’t afford to just let you go. You’re our link to the Pack that you founded, to coyotes that damn near outnumber the people here. We can’t afford to let you walk away.”

“I’m telling you, once you need it, someone will learn to speak with the Coyotes.” Lucky protested.

“Why hasn’t anyone learned it yet?”

“Girl did.” Lucky shot back, glancing toward Man.

“Only when she picked up her class.” Man protested.

“Then one of you will be offered the right class.” Lucky tipped his head to the other side. “I have faith that while I’m gone, you guys will get along just fine. I can’t let your need for a translator outweigh our need to figure out what’s going on out there. There’s got to be someone who knows something or somewhere we can go to learn what’s going on.”

The big man snorted and threw his hands up in a sharp, angry gesture. “Fine, whatever. You’ll do as you damn well please, no matter what I say. Go.”

Man just shook his head before following Steel-Beard as the big man left. Lucky threw his head back and closed his eyes, his expression thoughtful as he took a moment for himself. The kitchen was still crowded and he could feel everyone’s eyes on him. They had heard the conversation and many of them seemed to be feeling as uncertain as Steel-Beard about their future without the big, multicolored dog.

How did so much come to rest on my back? He wondered as he turned to leave the Kitchen without getting breakfast. He felt Quick leap off his shoulder onto the nearby counter as he walked, but neither squirrel nor dog said anything in parting.

The Living Room was just as crowded as the Kitchen, though it was more a grouping of children than anything else. They played quietly and seemed strangely subdued. Especially the Mitchells who were gathered around the russet and gold shape of Sugar. Every single one of the little hands stroked or scratched the belly-up golden retriever. One of Sugar’s hind legs kicked restlessly and her face was an expression of sheer bliss with her eyes rolled back and her tongue lolling to flop close to those eyes.

Lucky hesitated in the entryway, eyes locked on Sugar for a long moment before they flicked to the front door and the waiting flap. He could go outside and talk to Wickett about their trek or he could find out what Sugar’s decision had been. Both prospects held elements of anxiety for the big dog. Neither had fully agreed to be a part of this endeavor, but he was desperately hoping that they both would. Sugar, as a healer, would be an invaluable addition to the group. Lucky was certain that the world beyond the fence was much more dangerous than it had been only a week ago. Even safely ensconced behind the fence, they had suffered through several attacks. If they went out into the world, surely they would encounter more and more of the forces of Nalzhur.

Beyond that, Lucky had plans for Wickett. The big, sturdy, elk could certainly carry many more supplies than the dogs. If they found any, that was. Lucky heaved a heavy sigh and watched Sugar with her family for another moment before he slipped through the doggy door and out onto the porch. Even here, Lucky wasn’t alone. A pawful of dogs were resting on the porch, sprawled here and there. Beyond them in the dooryard adults were already busy at work. Or perhaps still busy as some of them looked more than slightly exhausted.

Lucky sat down at the very top of the porch steps and watched the people as they moved about the dooryard. His pale eyes studied them carefully, tilting from one side to the other. It wasn’t exhaustion he saw, or at least not the exhaustion that comes from good clean work. This was something else. This was a weariness that came from fear. From fear so great it precluded sleep. Their eyes scanned constantly as they worked, never resting, never relaxing. Every loud noise made them jump and look around with wild eyes. The big dog felt a small whimper escape him as he watched. How could he leave them behind, awash in such fear?