Watch Wolf

three other wolves. All their hackles had risen and their ears lay back flat against their heads. They turned to look at him, terror in their eyes.
What have I done?
Toby thought.
Can I get out of here? Will they let me go?
    In that same moment, it began to snow. The wolves looked up at the sky. “This is a bad business,” said one wolf. “Remember what Edme said?”
    “She’s a fool,” the leader growled.
    Edme!
That was the name of the wolf he had first played with. The one-eyed wolf had been so different from his attackers.
    “But it is strange, my lord,” Fretta said. “It snowed on Litha Eve and again now. Look, the sun is shining brightly and yet it snows.” Her voice dropped. “The weather has gone
cag mag,
and the bear cub’s name is Ishodd!” She stole a furtive glance at the foaming-mouth wolf weaving on his feet in the distance.
    The scarred wolf looked up nervously at the sky.
    Dunbar MacHeath came down from the safety of the embankment to grab Toby by the ear and drag him closerto the foaming-mouth wolf. When he released Toby, Dunbar streaked back up the embankment.
    Toby immediately shut his eyes. The foaming-mouth wolf was the most frightening thing he had ever seen. His eyes were red, streaked with yellow. The gums of his diseased mouth were green, and Toby could smell the terrible stench of them.
    “Old Cags, this is Macoon. Macoon, meet Old Cags! I’m sure you’ll be friends. If you survive, Macoon.”
    “Macoon!” Toby’s eyes flew open. “My name is not Macoon. It’s Ishodd. Ish-odd!” He said it slowly, enjoying each syllable as all the wolves, including Old Cags, began to tremble.
    Dunbar MacHeath let out a viscious snarl. “Say that again and I’ll bite your ear off.” But Toby didn’t listen. He streaked across the pit and squashed himself into a crack in the rock walls.
    Toby stayed inside this crack while the steep shadows of midday fell directly into the pit and then lengthened as the afternoon grew into night.
    When the four wolves who had captured him left, Toby had heard them still muttering about his name. “Can you believe it? Ishodd. Of all the names!”
    “What bad luck!”
    “And now with this strange weather.”
    Why were they worried? His mum had told him that wolves were a very superstitious lot, not at all like bears. Had he stumbled across some sort of curse word or cursed name by accident? And why was it so important that the foaming-mouth wolf know his name?
    Toby peered out from his hiding spot in the sheer rock wall. The old wolf was leaping about in the middle of the pit as if chasing his own tail. When he caught sight of Toby’s muzzle, he bolted on a dead run toward the rock wall.
Surely it’s not big enough for him to get in! Please, Ursus, take care of me. I don’t want to die.
    There was a dull thud as the wolf slammed into the rock. He snarled, then began bellowing loudly. His language was garbled and there wasn’t a word that Toby could understand. It was snarling gibberish. Again and again, the foaming-mouth wolf ran toward the crack. Then a sudden horrid odor suffused the air. Something slithered through the crack and into the narrow space, like a dark pink snake coated in yellow slime.
    “Urskadamus!” Toby cried. It was Old Cag’s long, fat tongue. The air reeked with disease. The tongue slithered toward Toby and he began to back away. He felt a sharp stone under his hind foot. Without even thinking,he grabbed it and slammed it down on the fetid slab of flesh.
    There was a terrible yowl. Instantly, the tongue disappeared.
    Toby’s first sensation was not one of relief but fear.
That was stupid of me!
For he looked down and saw some dribbles of the deadly foam on the floor of the crack. He had gotten rid of Old Cags for now, but the sick wolf had left behind some of his disease. The glistening white bubbles seemed to wink at Toby in the dim light of the small space. He could catch the illness now and die, die without anyone ever knowing.
    Shut up!
he commanded himself.
Do something!
He dug his claws into the floor of his slot in the rock wall. The floor was not entirely rock. There was dirt,
earth!
The word blossomed in his mind like the most beautiful flower. Frantically, he began digging with his two front paws.
    In no time, the deadly foam was buried under a pile of dirt. Toby looked around now for a rock. There was the stone he had slammed down on Old Cags, but he didn’t want to touch that. Even though it had no foam on