An hour later, the rain eased to a mist. Thomas paced the hallway, mud drying in streaks on his sleeves. The vet joined him with a tablet and a tired smile.
“Good news first—the little one is breathing stronger. No broken bones, just cold and dehydration,” she said. “The older pup has bruising, minor cuts, and… a stubborn streak.”
Thomas exhaled, shoulders dropping. “He wouldn’t let anyone near his brother.” The vet nodded. “He’s the reason they’re here.”
Through the glass, they watched the older pup curl tighter around the heated blanket, nose tucked under his littermate’s ear like a promise kept.
