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As soon as Gerard opened his muzzle, the eagles took to the skies and the wolves bolted back into the forest. Charlie's seven siblings immediately split up, as they knew their numbers really did count the most during this competition. If every one of them went into a separate direction, they would be able to cover a lot more ground than Charlie ever could on his own. However much Charlie might have improved on his tracking skills in the time he had been going it alone, they figured his disadvantage would this time be too big to overcome.

Charlie headed in the direction his siblings weren't going. After a mile or two scampering through the woods with his nose low to the ground, he noticed some familiar hills and trees. The land was sloping upwards. The hills were growing steeper. It didn't take him long to realise he was heading back the way he had come.

But that didn't matter much. In the end, it was all about the size of the prey. Of course Charlie had tracked many small animals together with his eagle guardians, easy as they were to capture without a wolfpack to aid him, but now Charlie was racking his memory to find a particular scent. It was one he had followed a long time ago. Even though bad memories and feelings of shame clung to it and made Charlie grimace, he was dead-set on finding it again. If he managed to find it, there would be no shame this time, only the sweet taste of victory.

Suddenly, a rustle. Charlie stopped. The sound didn't come from prey, but from Hazel, who soared down and hovered still in front of him. 'News from the front!'

'How are the others doing?' asked Charlie.

'Three prey have been successfully tracked so far,' said Hazel. 'A hare, a dall sheep, and... well...' She hesitated.

Charlie smiled. 'Don't worry, Hazel. I won't be discouraged. I need all the information I can get.'

Hazel sighed. 'A reindeer. One of them has managed to sniff out a reindeer. I'm sorry, Charlie.'

'Don't be,' Charlie said. 'Actually, I have set my eyes on an even bigger--'

He stopped mid-sentence. He sniffed. Then he climbed on top of a large rock and sniffed again to be absolutely sure. Hazel landed on his back, making as little noise as possible. One more time Charlie inhaled the familiar scent, eyes closed in deep concentration. When he opened them again, Hazel bent forward and whispered in his ear, 'A moose?'

A nod. 'Time for me to go.'

Hazel took to the skies again. 'Speaking of time, I'll go gather the others and let them come to you. That should give you some more time to track your prey down.'

Charlie thanked her and rushed back into the woods. The sun was sinking lower and lower towards the horizon, so he had to find a delicate balance between hastening and being careful not to spook his prey. His body was tense with excitement, and he could feel his chest glowing with an inner fire every time he climbed on top of a hill to glance around.

Suddenly, his ears pricked up to the sound of rustling water. Charlie paused, taking a moment to guess how far he'd have to go still. Water was good. Moose like to live near water, so Charlie was one-hundred percent sure the moose would be grazing nearby a stream or river. And he knew a stream nearby: the one he had passed on the way to the swimming contest.

It took Charlie mere minutes to find it again. The log-bridge was still in place, but the stream looked and sounded even wilder than before, growling like an angry bear. For a moment Charlie wondered why a moose would wander around this stream. Sure, moose were strong, but they would still be swept away by the foaming water if they tried to bathe or swim across. Even drinking would be risky.

The why didn't matter. What mattered was the scent, which made Charlie's nose point upstream, in the direction of the distant mountains. The steep, rocky terrain did not hamper Charlie much, adept as he was at climbing. He hopped from rock to rock, going upstream and upwind, always with his nose in the air. He was close. The scent intensified, and got mixed up with other scents more familiar to him. Charlie didn't think much of it, as he needed all his focus to scale a particularly huge boulder. Once he had scrambled to the top, he looked ahead and gasped at the scene playing out on the other side of the stream.

Four wolves. One mother moose. One calf. Charlie didn't know the wolves, who had surrounded the mother and her calf in a half-circle, and were now slowly closing in. The moose and her calf were caught between a rock and a hard place, as behind them the river roared in greeting. The way it looked, the moose had to choose between being devoured by the wolves or being swallowed up by the current.

From the other side of the river, Charlie could see how the wolves' tails stood on end and how their bared teeth glittered in the light of the sun. These were hungry wolves, who were already looking forward to their tasty evening snack.

That's nature, Charlie thought, but he wasn't just feeling indifference; he was feeling disappointment as well. This prey had already been claimed. He looked at the setting sun. Could he find another moose with so little time left? Maybe... if he hurried up.

Just as he was about to turn away from the scene, the mother moose made a move. She let out a loud bellow and jumped in front of her calf, legs wide, head high. The wolves hesitated for a moment but did not step back. There was no way one moose could win from a pack of wolves.

However desperate the act was, it awakened something deep inside Charlie. Soft, familiar words resurfaced in a haze of memory.

'To be honest, we are a little sad they've grown up and literally flown away.'

_ _

'It's great that they are able to set out to experience the wonders of life by themselves, but... They always grow up too fast.'

_ _

'Huh? I don't understand. I mean, now you have more freedom, right? You have nothing to worry about, like how you're gonna feed seven hungry beaks. And besides that, your kids have to prove that they are big bad wolves--err, I mean big bad eagles--eventually.'

_ _

'But feeding seven hungry beaks is part of the fun of being a parent, Charlie. We look after our children and protect them. That's how nature works. We know them leaving the nest is how nature works too, but still... It leaves a hole in your heart.'

_ _

'You'll understand when you have kids yourself.'

But Charlie understood now. The mother moose's brave, defiant, desperate move perfectly illustrated the tenderness of those words, and made him understand. Yet, he didn't just understand it--he felt it. That instant, Charlie felt what life was all about.

The wolves crouched, ready to jump. The mother moose changed tactics. She zipped around with the swiftness of a mountain lion, gave another loud bellow, and jumped into the stream. The calf hesitated a moment longer, then followed his mother's example.

Immediately, the two moose got flushed away by the roaring waters. The mother moose resurfaced, gasping for breath. Charlie watched, his breath held, as the river carried the two creatures straight towards him. Before they passed, the mother moose managed to find some footing. Half-jumping-

half-swimming, fighting against the current, she reached Charlie's side of the river. After pulling herself up, she flashed her gaze around. 'My baby! My baby!' she screamed. 'Where are you?!'

Charlie squinted his eyes. There was a speck of brown between the white and blue of the river, rolling downstream. Charlie bolted off. He had a plan.

He managed to overtake the drowning calf before the animal got swept underneath the log bridge. There was no way a moose could stand on the narrow log, but he could. Once he reached the middle, he dug his claws in the soggy wood and lowered his tail. 'Grab on, little guy!' It was impossible to tell whether or not the calf had heard him. Everything was too loud and too fast. Charlie could only brace himself and hope for the best.

Charlie almost lost his footing when his tail got jerked down hard. He gritted his teeth. The water was stronger than he had expected. He turned his head towards the end of the log. The only thing he had to do now was edge his way towards it. Easier said than done. Inch by inch, struggling against the force of the current and the pain in his bottom, Charlie got in motion.

A shadow flashed in the corner of his eyes. Out of the gloom of the forest, the unknown wolfpack appeared. The wolves stood still for a moment or two, observing the bizarre rescue attempt by the young wolf on the log, then moved in. Forming a line, the wolves balanced themselves on the log, eyes fixed on their prize.

Charlie cursed between clenched teeth. A sudden jerk made him stop. He turned his head left, then right. Even though there was only a quarter of log between him and the other end, he wouldn't be fast enough. And if by some miracle he would be fast enough, he still had to defend one little moose against four hungry adult wolves. He snorted. There was only one way to lose them.

So Charlie opened his maw wide and dug his teeth into the log. To the loud cracks and flying splinters, the wolves froze. Charlie kept gnawing. The wolves tip-toed back. One tried to turn around but lost his footing and fell into the stream with a yelp.

CRACK!

_ _

The icy cold meltwater stinged Charlie's skin. He resisted the urge to gasp, instead letting himself sink to the bottom and push off. His head reached the surface. He took a deep breath and tried to get his body into a somewhat comfortable swimming position. Flashbacks from his desperate swimming adventure long ago tried to grasp his nerves. But there was no time for panic. Charlie had to keep his head as cool as the water. Where's the moose?

_ _

_There!_Charlie paddled and struggled towards the ball of wet fur, hoping the calf hadn't drowned yet. As soon as he reached him, he grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and headed for the bank. The moose hadn't drowned, but he kept struggling and shaking, afraid to be devoured before he could even take the time to drown. There was no way to get to dry land like that.

Desperation tried to get a hold of Charlie. He turned his head downstream and focused on keeping the moose's head (and his own) above of the water. There was nothing else he could do at this point. Up ahead there were rocks jutting out of the water like hungry teeth. Charlie winced. Avoiding those was going to be a challenge. He could hardly move with the moose in his mouth.

But maybe he didn't have to.

Right before he was about to slam into the first teeth, his overworked mind turned the obstacle into an opportunity. He strained his neck, pulling the moose's head towards the rocks so he could see. Hopefully he would understand the plan.

He did. Both animals grabbed on to a rock as they neared. The rocks were dangerously slippery, but they managed to hold on. With his last drop of strength, Charlie hoisted himself up, then helped the moose get up as well. It turned out the rocks formed a natural bridge made of several slick islands. What was more: the wolf who had fallen into the water before them was lying on the other bank, cold, wet, and gasping for breath. Charlie paid him no heed, for he was much too busy feeling cold, wet, and gasping for breath himself.

Luckily, the mother moose arrived before the wolf got to his senses. Through tired and hazy eyes Charlie watched how she nudged the calf back to his little hooves and took him away to the safety of the hills and the woods. Charlie hadn't expected a "thank you" or even a friendly smile from the moose. 'Mission accomplished,' he muttered between panting breaths, then rested his head on the ground before closing his eyes.