Storm whined in pain, as it coursed through his small husky figure.

“its ok buddy.Hang on..” soothed William.

He whined louder, blood dripping from the arrow that was stuck in his chest.

“Its ok Storm..Please..Hold on..” He begged, starting to pull the arrow out.

He whimpered, and bit his lip. The cold Tundra wind ruffled his fur.

When it was out, he tossed it aside, and grabbed Storm into a hug, "hang on buddy..we’re almost to town buddy..The Indians cant hurt us anymore..’ he whispered, tears staring to roll down his rosy cheeks.

He set his lead dog on the sled, he hopped on the back. “YAH!” he called to his team. The dogs sped off, a new speed in their paws.

Storm blinked his eyes open, he was on a cold steel table, a vet and William stood over him, both with nervous looks.

The words they spoke were muffled, then he snapped back into reality.

“Storm! Hang in there! please!” William begged.

William stroked his dogs head softly.

Storm’s spark slipped from his grasp.