Runt by Marion Dane Bauer

Author:Marion Dane Bauer [Bauer, Marion Dane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Ages 9 & Up, Retail
ISBN: 0618212612
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
Published: 2002-10-28T07:00:00+00:00

11

When Runt reached the trees, he began to run. "I'm coming," he called to anyone who cared to listen. "I'm coming home."

A white-throated sparrow answered with its achingly pure song. Owl hooted from the top of a tall pine. Even a friend of Raven's called down in a friendly way, "Hurry, little pup. You'd better hurry."

And Runt answered each voice with his own high, keening cry.

He had a choice. No one was holding him prisoner. And his choice was to go home!

His paws danced past lady's slippers, leapt over wild strawberries, skipped by maidenhair ferns.

Home! And his family would be so glad to see him!

Had anyone else in his family ever made friends with a dog? Had anyone else actually been touched by a human and lived to tell the tale? Even Bider?

Runt loped past a doe chewing her cud. He sent a night-prowling raccoon scurrying for cover.

"Humans touched me," he sang, "and I am still here. They touched me, and I did not die."

His father would probably be glad to know that he had been wrong! Wolves didn't need to fear humans. Humans brought life, not death.

When Runt arrived home at last, he trotted out of the trees, his face lifted, his voice high. "I'm home," he yipped. "I've come home. Look at me. I'm here."

All the pack lay or sat in a tight little group, close by the mouth of the den. Only his mother lifted her head, rose, and started toward him. When she had come half the distance, though, she stopped.

"You've been with them," she said, her voice sharp, even accusing.

"Yes," Runt cried. "I've been with them." And he did a little dance. "Isn't it wonderful? I've been with them, and I survived. They pulled all the quills Porcupine left in my face. And I'm fine now. Can you see?"

Helper approached, too, but he also stopped some distance away, sniffing the air with clear distaste.

The elation that had carried Runt home began to trickle away.

Others in the pack moved toward him, but none came close. Only King remained where he was, standing over something Runt couldn't see.

"They helped me," Runt repeated, more quietly.

Without another word, his mother turned away. The pups who had approached him and the two yearlings did, too. They all followed Silver.

"I met Dog," Runt called after them. "Has anybody else here ever met a dog? Her name was—"

"Hush!"

Runt looked up to see Bider standing over him.

"Hush," the white wolf said again, as though the first command hadn't been enough. "No one here appreciates your adventure. They're too busy worrying about Thinker."

"Thinker?" And suddenly Runt remembered. The humans had helped him, but Thinker had been hit, too. In all his strange and bewildering adventure, he had forgotten about his brother.

Runt approached the group slowly. They were, indeed, gathered around Thinker. Not only did he have quills in his muzzle and the side of his face as Runt had once had, but one long quill had pierced an eye. Thinker whimpered softly. Something about the pup's low whimper was more pitiful even than his screams had been the day before.

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