Dawn was breaking over the meadow. Coriander yawned as she waited to see who else Speedwell, the beta, would assign to the morning hunting party. Those who had been on the night hunt yesterday were still asleep, along with some of the defenders. The early sunlight spilled into the hollow, lighting the golden-brown fur of the sable dogs and making them glow.

"Lightning, Feather, and Eleazar, patrol the east border of unclaimed territory," he barked after all the hunters and defenders had assembled. "Dakota, Compass, and Minette, patrol the south. Picasso and Coriander, you take Atlantic and Focus for training."

Coriander forced herself not to sigh. Atlantic, Focus, and their other siblings, Dynamite and Tassel, were seemingly pure energy covered in fur. Coriander wasn't sure how their parents, Levi and Hannah, kept them in line. Oh well, at least she had Picasso; the large Bearded Collie would help her keep from being overwhelmed.

The Border Collie brothers were bouncing on their paws, already raring to go. "I'm gonna catch the most prey!" Atlantic boasted, his blue and white fur bristling with excitement.

"No, I am!" Focus retorted, pouncing on his littermate. The two wrestled in a ball of blue and lilac merle, kicking dust up all around them.

"Hey, break it up!" Picasso growled sternly, pulling Focus off. "You'll wake the pups. Come along, we've got a lot of hunting to do. And making a bunch of racket like that won't catch you anything!"

A little reluctantly, the two littermates separated themselves and obediently followed Picasso as he trotted out of the clearing. Coriander supposed that, as long as you were firm with them, the yearlings really weren't that bad.

They headed off across the dawn-lit meadow, sniffing the air for prey scents. Birds flitted around in quick flashes of color, twittering their songs to each other. Coriander took a deep breath of the early morning air, confident they would catch something.

"What are we hunting?" Atlantic asked. "Deer? I wanna catch something big!"

"I'm not sure if you two are ready for that," Picasso snorted. "Why don't we see your bird stalking skills?"

"But we did that yesterday," Focus complained. "Can't we bring down a deer?"

"The first lesson a hunter has to learn is patience," Coriander reminded him. She'd heard that over and over during her own training. "If you're good at stalking birds, then you'll be good at hunting deer."

"Okay." Atlantic sighed dramatically. "Where are the birds we're going to stalk?"

Picasso smiled. "You tell me. Scent them out."

Looking happy that they finally had something to do, the brothers trotted off, sniffing the air. "I smell grouse!" Focus piped up. "Coming from the southwest."

"Excellent," Picasso praised him. "Track them now. Pretend you're the leaders of the party."

Focus immediately set out in the direction of the scent, looking pleased with himself. "There!" he whispered, dropping into a crouch. Up ahead, a group of grouse strutted about, pecking at the ground for worms and insects.

"All right, you two, I want you to catch this," Picasso said. "Coriander and I shouldn't have to help you. Now, Atlantic, go around and let Focus chase them to you."

Atlantic did as he said, slipping stealthily through the grass to the other side of the birds. Focus slunk forward, his eyes trained on the birds. When he was told to do something and he put his mind to it, he really did live up to his name.

Focus broke his stealthy position and charged forward, barking at the birds. They squawked and fluttered up into the air, but Atlantic leaped out of the grass and grabbed one. More were flying in Coriander and Picasso's direction, so Coriander lunged upward and snagged one of her own. Picasso shot her a look of, "this was supposed to be their hunt" but Coriander shrugged. There wasn't any sense in letting food go to waste.

The yearlings each had a grouse at their paws, their tails wagging. "Did we do good?" Atlantic asked.

Picasso nodded. "Very good," he replied. "Even if some of us were a little too eager." He gave Coriander a glance, an eyebrow raised.

Coriander sniffed. "Just trying to do my job."

Picasso shook his head, then nodded to the trainees' kills. "Pick up them up and we'll head back. If we come across any more birds, we'll see if you can catch them too."

As the four trotted along, Atlantic and Focus squabbling over whose bird was bigger, a faint, slightly familiar scent reached Coriander's nostrils. She realized it was an herb she'd seen Grace use--what was it called? Calendula, that was it. Grace had muttered something about being low on it.

Coriander set her bird down. Picasso looked at her, his face curious. "What is it?" he asked.

"I smelled an herb Grace needs," she answered. "Take the bird back; I'll catch up."

Focus tipped his head. "If Grace needs it, why don't you just let her get it?"

"Because it will save her time if I get it now," Coriander barked. "Go on, I won't be long."

Picasso shrugged and picked up her grouse. "See you back at the hollow," he mumbled around the feathers before setting off with the trainees again.

Coriander followed her nose, noticing the scent led towards the Night Pack border. The imposing dark forest stretched out before her, eventually melting into Storm Pack's dark green pines, and the orange flowers of calendula that she was looking for grew along the border, right where the forest gave way to meadow.

The Sheltie sniffed the air. There didn't seem to be any Night Pack dogs around. There had been tension between Night Pack and Wind Pack ever since rumors of stolen prey had started some months ago, and being found close to the border alone might not be a good thing.

She began biting off stems of calendula, but suddenly stopped when she heard the snap of twigs. Moments later, two Night Pack dogs, a mastiff and a Cane Corso, emerged from the trees.

Coriander stiffened and rose up to her full height, as small as that might have been. She knew Night Pack dogs loved to intimidate their opponents, and she would not give them any idea that she was the least bit afraid.

"What's a Wind Pack dog doing so close to the border?" the Corso growled, his eyes narrowed.

"Looking for prey to steal?" added his companion, the mastiff.

"I was gathering herbs for our healer," Coriander snapped, returning their gazes unflinchingly.

"I didn't know Wind Pack had a new healer," mocked the Corso. "I guess the one they have isn't good at her job."

Coriander bristled. "I was trying to be helpful. Or is that concept foreign to Night Pack?"

A growl rumbled in the mastiff's throat. "Get away from the border," he snarled. "We don't need Wind Pack rabbit-breath stinking up the territory."

"I don't think we need Night Pack stupidity stinking up ours," Coriander retorted.

The Corso's eyes flashed and he stepped closer to the scent-line, his lip curled. "Take that back," he hissed.

"Not while I'm on my side of the border."

The two looked ready to lunge across and grab her, but suddenly an isabella Doberman came loping through the trees. "Baron! Samuel! What in the Hunter Dog's name do you think you're doing?" she snapped.

The two dogs whipped around to face their packmate. "This insolent Wind Pack mutt was causing trouble," the mastiff growled.

Coriander stepped away from the border. "If gathering herbs is your definition of 'trouble,' then I feel for your healer," she sniffed.

The Doberman gave her a stern glare. "Be quiet, Wind Pack. I see that you're on your own side, but don't push your luck." She returned her gaze to Baron and Samuel. "You two are supposed to be hunting. Get back to work before I report you to Pawnee."

"Yes, Desert," they muttered, casting a final glare over their shoulder at Coriander before disappearing into the forest again.

Desert faced Coriander again, looking her up and down. "You seem to have quite a bit of pluck for someone so small," she commented.

Coriander raised her head proudly. "I don't need much."

Desert's gaze flickered with what might have been brief anger, but she snorted and turned away. "Keep to your side of the border, Wind Pack, and we'll keep to ours. I apologize for any trouble."

Coriander flicked her ears as the Doberman walked away. At least she was polite, unlike some dogs she could mention.

She bent down and began snipping off the flowers again, this time shaking her head. Night Pack. Just who did they think they were, anyway?

I'm aliiiiiiive! Yes, good readers, this story is not dead. I got a flash of inspiration during a break from watching Lord of the Rings and BOOM, finished chapter. I apologize for the story going a little bit slowly--as I'm sure I've mentioned before, this book doesn't have the same kind of a plot that Dire Warnings did, which makes it even harder to write. Well, anyway, I hope you enjoyed, don't forget to vote and comment, and keep your fingers crossed for new chapters!