• Brighthowl poked her head out of the den. Her parents were gone, hunting, and her uncle Growl, today’s cubsitter, was dozing under a pine. “Now’s my chance,” Brighthowl whispered to herself. On her belly, she shimmied out of the den, and then crept through the summer leaves to the twin boulders that marked the edge of the pack’s area. Pups her age weren’t supposed to leave the area. But Brighthowl was five moons old now—plenty old enough to take care of herself.

    She stood up, than ran toward the line of manzanitas near the pond, on the edge of her pack’s border.

    “Brighthowl!”

    Brighthowl cringed. It was her dad’s voice, and he didn’t sound happy. Bolting through the manzanitas, Brighthowl bounded around the pond. She had to get out of his sight before he called her back. I can take care of myself! She thought fiercely, as she raced on. The evening air raced through her fur and wonderful scents filled her nose!

    She skidded to a stop. How did it just get darker? Brighthowl looked up at the sky. It was a summer rainstorm! Clouds piled on top of each other until they looked an angry gray. A cold wind stirred the grass. Her parents had warned her about being caught in a summer storm.

    Wheeling around, she realized that she didn’t recognize anything around her. “Mom?” she called, her tail sinking. “Dad?” The scents here were all strange and she didn’t remember which way she ran. She raced from one tree to another, the growing wind tugging at her fur.

    Brighthowl stopped when the rain burst from the clouds above. She was soaked at once and she couldn’t see where she as going. “Mom?” Brighthowl called again, peering through the dark. She spotted a hole beneath a large tree. Brighthowl wiggled into the hole and shook herself before curling up to sleep.

    Brighthowl woke early the next morning. “What?” she mumbled, shaking herself. The horrible smell that had woken her came from the mother fox and her cubs standing at the back of the hole!

    Yipping in alarm, Brighthowl scrambled out from the hole and ran, her heart racing and her tail tucked between her legs. I should have stayed home, she thought. It wasn’t raining anymore, but everything was wet and mud squelched beneath her paws.

    A rock loomed on the other side of a rushing creek. She stopped. “I know that rock!” She cried, her ears pricking forward. It was her pack’s border to the west!

    Happiness raced through her and she howled eagerly. It wasn’t as pretty as an adult’s yet, but she liked it. Drifting as if it was far away, there came more howls; her family! “Mom, Dad!” she cried and bounced up and down.

    Suddenly, the ground beneath her gave away. Brighthowl fell into freezing cold water. She yelped as the water soaked through her fur. She sank beneath the surface. I can’t swim! She realized in a panic and started kicking at the water the way she’d seen her parents do. She hit a rock and her head burst above water. She gasped for air. “Mom, Dad, help!” The churning water pulled her under again. She was so cold!

    Brighthowl’s nose ran into a thick tree root dangling in the water. She sunk her teeth into the root before the water pushed her past it. Her head came above water again and she pulled herself out of the river. She scrambled onto the dry bank and collapsed. She lay there, tired, cold, and scared. Dad was right. I’m too small, she thought. A rainstorm, foxes, getting lost, and the river made her want to be safe and sound in her den again. All she wanted to do was to go home.

    'She stumbled to her feet, shivering. Raising her head, she howled again, loud and long. Her parents’ howls were closer this time. Relief raced through her fur. She would be going home.