Elsa cuddled me, her trembling body pressing into mine. I felt the warm vibrations of her shakes, and my fur tickled her skin as she nuzzled me close.

"This is like old times, girl!" Elsa said, her voice light despite the fear that lingered in her eyes. "Like the hospital."

I peered into her face, seeing the terror that she was trying to mask behind her glasses. Her words felt hollow, and the familiar bond we shared became clouded with uncertainty. I sat up beside her, my large frame almost spilling over the side of the bed. It wasn't designed for a human teenager and a big dog like me, but I didn't mind. Elsa giggled nervously, the sound not quite reaching her usual warmth.

"Stay here, girl!" she said shakily, her hands stroking my fur with an urgency that made my heart race.

The room fell silent for a moment, but the noise outside the door reached me—Shelby's barks echoing down the hall, followed by the voices of Glacier and Scarlet. They were probably heading to Scarlet's room, maybe to talk about Alaska or Winter's problems. I could hear the raw tension in their voices, the weight of their struggles—Alaska's fight with cancer, Glacier's anger over their fight that sent him to the hospital. Wolfie's name crossed my mind, a reminder of how she was able to shift into a dog, just like me and Shelby. It was her gift—her curse, perhaps. And she'd been our translator between the worlds of humans and dogs, always managing to bridge the gap that sometimes seemed insurmountable.

"Here, girl!" Elsa's voice snapped me back to the present, and I turned my head to find her holding my favorite toy—the squeaky one that I loved so much. Her voice had a forced cheeriness to it, but I wasn't fooled. I pressed closer, trying to get the toy away from her hands, though I was still half-buried in her warmth.

"Definitely like old times," she murmured, scratching behind my ears. I could feel her heart rate slow, her warmth becoming oddly still beneath my paws. But then, it happened.

A shift, a chill that wasn't from the cool room air. Elsa went silent. Her body, once so full of energy and life, became unnervingly still. My instincts flared, a deep, primal worry coursing through me. I pawed at her face.

"Elsa?" I barked, my voice sounding far too frantic in my own ears. "Earth to Elsa?"

Nothing. No response. My nose pressed against her chest, and I felt a shallow breath. Her heartbeat was still there, faint, but I could feel the fear slowly creeping in. Something was wrong—deeply wrong—and I couldn't explain it. I was suddenly a puppy again, back in the shelter with my family, that same tight knot of panic curling in my chest.

My mother, Niamh, a proud husky who had once cared for me and my siblings—Daisy, Alana, and our brother—hadn't left the shelter alive. Her final breath still haunted me. I remembered the way she collapsed, the way her strength faded, how it all seemed to happen too quickly. I whimpered, remembering how I couldn't help her. I hadn't understood then, but I understood now. Elsa was in danger.

I pawed at Elsa again, pushing at her lightly, hoping to see her eyes open, hoping that maybe, just maybe, I was wrong.

"Elsa?" My bark grew desperate, a plea that seemed to echo through the silence. "Please, wake up!"

But still, nothing.

I leapt off the bed, a flash of fear igniting inside me. My paws scrambled on the floor as I rushed to the door, throwing it open with a force that surprised me. I didn't think, didn't hesitate—I just knew I needed help, and I needed it fast. There was no time. Not this time.

As the door creaked open, I heard Shelby's barks grow louder, and Glacier and Scarlet's voices calling out.

"Help!" I howled, hoping someone would hear. The panic gnawed at me, reminding me too much of that time long ago, when my mother's life slipped away before I could understand it. This time, I would fight to save the one who had always been there for me, the one who had been my home since we found each other.

But Elsa... Elsa wasn't waking up.

"Help!" I cried out again, my voice thick with fear.

The memories of my family, of my mother's death, flooded my thoughts, intertwining with my desperate plea for Elsa's life. Time slowed down as I waited, ears straining for any sound that could bring me the help I so desperately needed.

I couldn't lose another. I wouldn't.

⸻

I could feel the coldness creeping in—the kind that was familiar and terrifying. The night that my mother, Niamh, had died, the world had shifted, and it had never felt quite right since. I had tried to shield Daisy, Alana, and our brother from the harsh reality, but deep inside, I knew. We all knew. She wasn't coming back.

Niamh had been our protector. The one who taught us how to survive, how to love. She was the one who kept us safe when the shelter's walls felt too close and too full of shadows. I had loved her more than words could describe, and when she had stopped breathing—when that last, warm breath of hers left her body—I had felt something break inside of me. It wasn't just grief; it was an emptiness, a hollow spot in my heart that no one could fill.

I remembered the chaos after that night, Daisy's howls, Alana's quiet sorrow, and the confused whimpers of our brother—our unnamed brother, who had always been silent and distant, especially after that night. Our father, Rocky, was there, but it felt like he didn't care. He had never been the kind of father we needed. He was distant, cold, and detached, as if we were nothing but a burden to him. He didn't mourn Niamh like we did. In fact, he seemed almost indifferent to our pain, to the loss that shattered our world.

And there was Pixie. She was a pittie who had been there the minute we were born, watching over us with a protective gaze, as if we were her own. I don't remember much of her—I was just the runt, the smallest pup, always struggling to keep up with the others—but I know she loved us, in the way that only a mother figure can. She had tried to fill the role left by Niamh, even though we were still too young to understand fully what was happening. We hadn't known how much Pixie loved us until after Niamh had died, but Pixie was the one who kept us alive, kept us moving, when the world seemed too big and too cold for tiny puppies like us.

I never truly remembered Pixie, though. Not really. I was too small, too fragile to understand the depth of her affection. But I felt the absence of her care in the moments when I needed her the most. And even though I didn't remember her now, I knew deep in my heart that Pixie had been the one who had kept us safe, kept us together in the absence of our mother.

Now, staring at Elsa, with her body so still and the breath so shallow, I couldn't shake the feeling that the worst was happening again. My heart clenched as I stared down at her, but there was no more time for hesitation. I could feel the weight of the decision hanging over all of us, but it was already made.

⸻

Suddenly, the door burst open. My head snapped up as I heard the pounding of paws and the sound of voices rushing into the room.

"Button, what's going on?!" Glacier's voice rang out, though her eyes remained eerily blank—two bright blue artificial eyes that always gave her an unblinking, unfeeling stare. The kind that always reminded me of how much she had fought for her life. How she had been through things I could never understand. Even though she couldn't see, I could feel the sharpness in her voice, the deep concern that made her presence so powerful.

Scarlet was right behind her, her bright eyes scanning Elsa's unmoving form. "Is she okay?" she asked, her voice tinged with urgency.

I turned back to Elsa, my heart racing. I wanted to stay by her side, to never leave her, but I knew I couldn't do this alone. Daisy and Alana—my sisters—had always been my protectors, guiding me when I was scared or lost. Now, as Glacier and Scarlet moved in, I felt them take over, their energy mixing with mine, and I knew we would fight for Elsa, just like Daisy and Alana had fought to protect me and our brother all those years ago.

Daisy, ever the brave one, had always stood guard over the pack. Even when we were little, when things were hard, Daisy was always there to make sure no harm came to any of us. She had always watched over Alana, our brother, and me, keeping us safe in the moments when we needed her most. And Alana, sweet and strong, had never left my side when it mattered. Together, they had been my shield. They were my family, and nothing could break that bond.

I felt the weight of that love surge through me now as I returned to Elsa's side, paws trembling, but determined. We weren't going to lose her—not if I could help it.

"Help us, please," I whispered, the words coming out broken, but desperate.

⸻

The next thing I knew, I was sitting downstairs in the living room area with Glacier, Alaska, David, and the kind woman, Arianna, who had recently married David. I was still over Elsa's trembling body, putting pressure on her legs. I did feel her relax as I did this. I could hear the humans speaking softly, but their words didn't entirely register.

"We are going to send Elsa home, Glacier, darling," Arianna said, her voice warm but tinged with sadness. "It's unsafe for her to stay."

I heard sobs, raw and heart-wrenching. Glacier's sobs. From the corner of my eye, I saw Alaska hugging her, holding her tightly. In between them stood Shelby, her soft tongue licking at Glacier's face, offering comfort in her gentle, loving way. But the hurt was still there—thick, palpable.

I kept applying deep pressure to Elsa's legs, my paws never wavering. Her body was still, but the steady beat of her heart was a lifeline I clung to, a flicker of hope amidst the chaos.

David's voice broke through the fog of panic, calm and reassuring. "Button's coming home with me," he said, gently petting my head. "Elsa clearly needs her."

Shelby's voice came next, uncertain, full of worry. "What do I do, Button?" she asked, her eyes wide with concern.

"Protect Glacier, Alaska, Scarlet, and everyone else from danger!" I barked, my voice firm. "Raven and Anna especially. Keep them safe!"

Shelby nodded, determination creeping into her stance. "Okay. Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do, Shelby," I said with a smile, despite the fear that gnawed at me.

Then, without another word, David secured my harness, and we were out the door. Elsa, limp in his arms, was carefully cradled as he stepped outside, the door clicking shut behind us.

"See you in a few weeks, girls!" David called back as I followed, my heart heavy but determined. I could feel the weight of everyone's sorrow hanging in the air, but there was no turning back.

The door slammed shut behind us, and the sound echoed like a final farewell.

————————-

Author's note:

Wow, another long chapter? Sorry!

Here is the rest of Button's story. It will carry on to where I am in book 2 of Mill Brook book 2. Then I will continue it all the way up to the end.

Wolfie out!