Chapter Twenty-Seven: Vibrant Valley

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Everest's snowcat finally came to a stop, a slight distance away from the shabby wooden gate of the Canine Valley. The group was overjoyed to finally reach their destination, especially after their first close encounter with the wild animals

"Finally, it's been decades!" Rocky groaned, slumping down, "Does that mean we finally don't have to worry about a pack of wolves trying to eat us anymore?"

Hood looked at the mixed breed, "For now, yes."

"How's it going back there, Marshall?" The inventive pup then turned around to look at his Dalmatian friend, who was busy treating the injured pup on the medical sled behind them.

He briefly looked up from the pup's hind legs to look at Rocky, "I think we're dealing with a broken hind leg, but he's gonna be okay! He'll live!"

"Broken leg?" Hood asked loudly, turning himself around.

Hearing the wild Dalmatian repeat what Marshall had said, the pup began to whimper. He knew exactly what was to come, and so did Hood. The white furred pup began to quiver and shake, eyes widening and filling with tears.

The former EMT seemed confused at this reaction, "What's wrong, buddy?"

"....Am I gonna die?"

"What?" Marshall asked, taken aback.

Rocky, and even Everest, who was focused on finding a place to park the snowcat, turned around to look at the little puppy with shock abundant in their faces. The mixed breed's eyebrows furrowed. Why in the world did the pup think he was going to die? Marshall just said he was going to be okay. After all, it was just a broken leg, right?

"Die? No, no, no, you're gonna be fine!" The Dalmatian reassured him, frantically waving his paws, "Why do you think you would?"

Hood sighed. He knew that the three were still naive about how things worked in the wild, but this rule was plain and simple, "Because that's what getting a broken leg means most of the time."

"Huh?" Rocky, arguably the most intelligent of the group, was confused by this, "Bones heal."

Marshall's eyebrows furrowed, "...If a bone breaks and doesn't get treated... It could get infected or lead to permanent deformities. It's not like the bone just knows where to go. Either way, it would be really bad."

The pup in Marshall's care let out another distressed whimper, looking at his broken hind leg.

"But don't worry, I can make a pretty strong splint, no problem!" The Dalmatian smiled, "I could even make a cast. Then in six to twelve weeks, it'll be all better!"

"Three months max?" Hood's eyes widened, "That's pretty fast."

Marshall shrugged, "That's just how it works. Since this little guy is young, it might be even shorter. It could just take one month to heal."

Everest finally stopped the snowcat at the entrance, "That's amazing, Marshall!"

The former firefighter flushed under his fur, chuckling as he tugged on his scarf, "It's no big deal... But the healing time does depend on species..." He turned to look at the white puppy, "What are you? I've never seen a pup like you before."

Hood's eyelids lowered, clearing his throat, "That's an American Eskimo dog. As the name implies, it's native to America. It's pretty rare to find them in Canada."

"You're pretty knowledgeable on dog species, huh?" Rocky commented, "How are you able to tell the exact breed that quickly?"

"A lot of the dogs in the valley think it's important to know their species, because most of the time, we refer to those we don't know the names of as their species."

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