Raymond hovered beside him, every muscle in his body wound tight. Morris finally looked up. “The little one’s a fighter,” he said. “Cold, malnourished, dehydrated—but it’s hanging on.” Raymond let out a shaky breath. “And the pig?”
“Shock and exposure. But she’s stable. Did you find them together?” Raymond nodded. “She kept the little one warm. Guarded it.” Morris blinked slowly, studying the creature again. Then he gently parted the fur around its muzzle. “So, what is it, a stray dog?”
“Sure, but this little guy isn’t just any stray,” he said. “Look at the snout. The eye shape.” He turned toward Raymond. “You’ve got yourself a hybrid.” Raymond frowned. “A what?” “Dog and wolf,” Morris said quietly. “Probably second generation.
“Maybe it got left out by its owner when things got complicated, who knows?” Morris said, shrugging. Raymond stared down at the small, quivering figure wrapped in blankets and disbelief. “She wouldn’t have made it without the pig,” Morris added.