bristling, pointed ears laid flat, and tiny, glinting fangs bared. Its low, threatening growl was punctuated by vicious hissing as it crouched, every muscle taut for its attack.
Sharpclaw!
CHAPTER FOUR
The green-yellow eyes glared down at Lucky. He fought to suppress the tight ball of nerves in his belly even as his neck fur lifted. The sharpclaw would smell fear, he knew that; it would sense any hesitationâbut Lucky would not hesitate.
His lips pulled back from his teeth and he raised his head to bark the most ferocious bark he could muster.
Iâm dangerous, too, sharpclaw....
It got to its feet, stiff-legged and swollen to what seemed like twice its size, fur standing on end all over its arched body. One paw almost lifted, claws unsheathed and ready to strike. Lucky told himself not to look away and trained his gaze determinedly on the other animal, deepening his snarl.
Its growling and hissing were ferocious now, and Lucky felt sharpclaw spit land on his nose. The creature launched itself from the rickety ladder, and Lucky forced himself to hold his ground as the sharpclaw landed lightly, perfectly, on a half-wrecked loudcage. It drew itself up with a lethal glare.
And then the loudcage woke up.
Raucous wails ripped the air as it screamed and howled, flashing its orange eyes and its white ones. For an instant, both Lucky and the sharpclaw were startled into frozen silence. Then, at the same instant, they bolted.
Panic lent Lucky speed, despite his injured paw, but it made him breathless, too. He found himself yelping as he ran, the shriek of the loudcage almost drowning him out. Careening around a corner, Lucky ran as hard as he could away from loudcages and high buildings.
There in his path stood another sharpclaw. It was as black as no-sun, and as rigid as a tree.
Lucky didnât even slow down. The sharpclawâs ears flattened and it opened its mouth in a snarl. Lucky darted to one side, racing around it, growling, his hackles up. He had to end this fightâquickly. He launched himself into the air, landing on his enemy. Almost immediately he lost his footing and found himself tumbling with the sharpclaw, which yowled in panic. One flailing claw caught Luckyâs shoulder with a glancing scratch.
Rolling to his feet, paws scrabbling, he saw the black sharpclaw racing down a nearby alley. It had clearly decided escape was more important than fightingâLuckyâs attack had worked, however fumbling. Panting, his legs trembling beneath him, Lucky blinked and listened to the silence. The loudcage had stopped howling.
Well, of course it had. They always did in the end.
Lucky felt a pang of hurt pride as his flanks twitched and calmed. LuckyâLone Dog, Street Dog, City Dogâscared of a loudcage howl! He was glad Old Hunter hadnât witnessed that ! But he quickly shook it off. That was the reflex of a proper Lone Dog. The momentâs slight embarrassment gave way to pride. He was still on his paw-tips, smart and streetwise as ever. No Growl, Big or Small, could take that away from him.
Lucky felt his muscles stop shivering. He trotted on; this road seemed to lead away from the once-crowded center, and that was a good direction for the moment. It was his own decision, his own choice: one of the big advantages of being a Lone Dog.
Lucky glanced around with curiosity as he walked toward the edge of the city where most of the longpaws lived; it didnât seem quite as bad here. There wasnât so much to shatter; these longpaw houses didnât have as far to topple.
At last he stopped, turning a circle and eyeing his surroundings. This was one of those streets where longpaws lived and slept. And it wasnât the kind where the longpaws lived piled on top of one another in stone cages ⦠no, here the longpaw houses were set in neat little squares of garden that were full of intriguing smells. And the most intriguing of them all was â¦
Lucky opened his jaws,
Sharpclaw!
CHAPTER FOUR
The green-yellow eyes glared down at Lucky. He fought to suppress the tight ball of nerves in his belly even as his neck fur lifted. The sharpclaw would smell fear, he knew that; it would sense any hesitationâbut Lucky would not hesitate.
His lips pulled back from his teeth and he raised his head to bark the most ferocious bark he could muster.
Iâm dangerous, too, sharpclaw....
It got to its feet, stiff-legged and swollen to what seemed like twice its size, fur standing on end all over its arched body. One paw almost lifted, claws unsheathed and ready to strike. Lucky told himself not to look away and trained his gaze determinedly on the other animal, deepening his snarl.
Its growling and hissing were ferocious now, and Lucky felt sharpclaw spit land on his nose. The creature launched itself from the rickety ladder, and Lucky forced himself to hold his ground as the sharpclaw landed lightly, perfectly, on a half-wrecked loudcage. It drew itself up with a lethal glare.
And then the loudcage woke up.
Raucous wails ripped the air as it screamed and howled, flashing its orange eyes and its white ones. For an instant, both Lucky and the sharpclaw were startled into frozen silence. Then, at the same instant, they bolted.
Panic lent Lucky speed, despite his injured paw, but it made him breathless, too. He found himself yelping as he ran, the shriek of the loudcage almost drowning him out. Careening around a corner, Lucky ran as hard as he could away from loudcages and high buildings.
There in his path stood another sharpclaw. It was as black as no-sun, and as rigid as a tree.
Lucky didnât even slow down. The sharpclawâs ears flattened and it opened its mouth in a snarl. Lucky darted to one side, racing around it, growling, his hackles up. He had to end this fightâquickly. He launched himself into the air, landing on his enemy. Almost immediately he lost his footing and found himself tumbling with the sharpclaw, which yowled in panic. One flailing claw caught Luckyâs shoulder with a glancing scratch.
Rolling to his feet, paws scrabbling, he saw the black sharpclaw racing down a nearby alley. It had clearly decided escape was more important than fightingâLuckyâs attack had worked, however fumbling. Panting, his legs trembling beneath him, Lucky blinked and listened to the silence. The loudcage had stopped howling.
Well, of course it had. They always did in the end.
Lucky felt a pang of hurt pride as his flanks twitched and calmed. LuckyâLone Dog, Street Dog, City Dogâscared of a loudcage howl! He was glad Old Hunter hadnât witnessed that ! But he quickly shook it off. That was the reflex of a proper Lone Dog. The momentâs slight embarrassment gave way to pride. He was still on his paw-tips, smart and streetwise as ever. No Growl, Big or Small, could take that away from him.
Lucky felt his muscles stop shivering. He trotted on; this road seemed to lead away from the once-crowded center, and that was a good direction for the moment. It was his own decision, his own choice: one of the big advantages of being a Lone Dog.
Lucky glanced around with curiosity as he walked toward the edge of the city where most of the longpaws lived; it didnât seem quite as bad here. There wasnât so much to shatter; these longpaw houses didnât have as far to topple.
At last he stopped, turning a circle and eyeing his surroundings. This was one of those streets where longpaws lived and slept. And it wasnât the kind where the longpaws lived piled on top of one another in stone cages ⦠no, here the longpaw houses were set in neat little squares of garden that were full of intriguing smells. And the most intriguing of them all was â¦
Lucky opened his jaws,
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