Honeyed Pasture Take every chance you dare

Mason was graced with a smile that split the boy’s silver-marked face into two. He gave an unusual howl-bark that needed a bit of practise, but showed off his clear excitement. They both leapt forward and it appeared they were quite evenly matched in their careful pacing. Like racehorses on a track, they moved in tandem, not yet ready to test the other for extra speed. Mason was not a sprinter thanks to his short legs – he was much more of a stamina runner. He did the long distance in the hunts, driving the prey onwards; he tended to be one of the first in and the last out, whereas he rarely had the speed to dive in and make the kill.

Mason spotted the blue strip increasing. He was thrilled – he had never seen the sea before. In his excitement he did put on a burst of speed. Without warning, though, the other lad – now close enough that Mason could see his charcoal-tipped guard hairs – surged forwards and past him. Mason had been intending to ‘allow’ the boy to win as he sometimes did for June but he hadn’t expected for him to actually be better!

Mason watched the skinny body as it edged slowly past him, driving just that bit faster. He could now see the muscles bunched up under the skin; it appeared the boy wasn’t lacking in anything except fat. And he probably wasn’t really a boy, just a smallish weird-shaped wolf. Hmm.

They were not far now – once the journey had become a race it was more exciting and the distance seemed to flow by. Mason gave a grin of determination and then opened his legs wider in their stride, reached forwards and tried nudge the flank of Hush off course. Maybe playing dirty might be fun and win him the medal.