The Dog Master Read Online Free

it wildly away, and then the human was in the part of the den where outside air and light flowed down from the roof. She went for his legs, her teeth ready to tear into his flesh, but he was able to climb up out of reach in a shower of small stones and dust.
    She looked up at him, still growling deep in her chest. He was panting, but less fear was pouring off him. He was wedged up in the rocks like a leopard in a tree. She wanted to return to her newborns, but could not as long as this menace remained.
    The tiniest squeal behind her told the mother-wolf that her pups were missing her, and her teats ached at the sound. She stared at the man, wanting him to leave the den so she could take care of her young.
    â€œHey,” the human called softly. “Want some meat?”
    The mother-wolf heard the man’s sounds and they were reminiscent of the calls from the humans who often fed her. She growled again. The smell of the still-burning fire from the front of the den was upsetting, and this human reeked of smoke as well.
    When something small and light fell from the man’s hand, the mother-wolf backed away from it, then eased forward and sniffed suspiciously.
    â€œIt is reindeer. Eat it.”
    The flesh was familiar, if dry and tasting strongly of smoke, but it was edible. She crunched it.
    â€œSee? It is good.”
    So. This human was one of the kind who fed her. She looked him full in the face and saw the same raised eyebrows she had long ago learned meant no threat.
    Nothing in her instincts would allow any animal, even a friendly one, into her den. But the lion’s attack had altered everything. She could smell the faint odor of her mate’s blood and knew intuitively that he would not be coming back. Her life’s focus now needed to be her puppies. Nothing else mattered.
    Another piece of odd meat fell. She ate this one without hesitation—something beyond hunger told her to take in all the food she possibly could. Then she turned away to drag herself back to her litter.
    *   *   *
    Later, the mother-wolf registered the grunts and scrambling sounds as the man moved around. She did not know it was the sound of him climbing up the shaft, that the cascade of small stones bouncing off the rock face was from his near fall as he groped for handholds. The scent of fire remained even as the man’s smell abruptly faded from fresh to stale as the man succeeded in his ascent.
    She closed her eyes, pushed away her pain, and let her young suckle at her side.
    She awoke a short time later: The man was coming back, making noise as he squeezed through the entrance at ground level. She stiffened, her hackles rising, but her growl never made it past her throat. Her tolerance was learned behavior, overriding her instincts. She needed food and the man was providing. Now she smelled wet wood and, deliciously, water.
    She was unhappy when the flames, which had died away, started flickering higher, shadows jumping up the walls again, but she did not move, watching the man in the steadily building light, as he crept forward with a log.
    â€œYou need water. I am going to pour it in the hollow here, in the stones. See?”
    The mother-wolf registered the man sounds and then the enticing spill of water from the branch he was holding as he pointed it down. A small pool of water formed, close to her head, and her young made tiny peeps as she pulled herself forward with her two front legs, leaving them behind.
    The man backed away abruptly, then cautiously returned when the mother-wolf lapped at the water.
    â€œI will take the hollow log back to the stream for more.”
    The mother-wolf returned to her young, lying down with a groan. The pain in her flanks bit hard when she moved, though it dulled if she lay still. She licked her pups carefully before falling back to sleep.
    *   *   *
    The light building and waning as it filtered down the shaft, and the noises and smells coming