Chapter Text
Slate padded through the snow-lined streets of Nome, his paws crunching softly with each step. His breath curled in the winter air, his tail gently swaying in cautious optimism. There was something peaceful about this town. Quiet. Tidy. Maybe he could finally put down roots somewhere.
As he passed a group of sled dogs, their conversation died mid-sentence. One of them—an older malamute—stared at him with outright contempt. Another muttered under his breath and turned away.
Slate offered a polite nod. “Good morning.”
They didn’t respond.
A little further ahead, he spotted three dogs he recognized from stories: Kaltag, Nikki, and Star. They looked exactly like Steele had described them—well, mocked them, really—but Slate wasn’t interested in the past. He just needed directions.
“Excuse me,” Slate said, approaching with a friendly smile. “Could one of you help me find—?”
“Well, look what the sled dragged back in,” Kaltag sneered.
Star’s eyes widened. “It’s Steele!”
Nikki stepped back. “No way. No way. After everything you pulled?”
“I—wait, no,” Slate said quickly, taken aback. “I’m not Steele. I’m—”
“Save it,” Kaltag barked. “Don’t think a fresh coat of manners is gonna fool anyone.”
“But I’m not—”
“You left a sick child to freeze, you sabotaged Balto, you nearly got us all killed!” Star added, his usual nervousness replaced by pure offense.
“I’m not him!” Slate insisted, ears pinned in frustration. “I’m his twin brother, Slate. I just arrived today—”
“A likely story!” Nikki snapped. “What, now you’ve got a twin to blame things on?”
The trio turned their backs, muttering cruelly as they walked off.
Slate stood there for a moment, stunned. He felt the eyes of more dogs on him—watching from doorways, behind snowbanks, near sleds. All of them wore the same expression: suspicion, disgust, fear.
He sighed and turned down a side alley, hoping to shake off the awkward encounter.
But the day wore on, and it didn’t get better.
At the general store, a terrier refused to speak to him and slammed the door shut in his face.
At the water trough, a younger husky pup started to greet him, only for his mother to rush over and yank him away.
Even the town’s mutts gave him a wide berth, crossing the street rather than sharing space.
Slate sat on a frozen crate near the edge of town by evening, shoulders hunched, tail limp. He watched the sun begin to dip below the horizon, casting the snowfields in lavender and gold.
“This was a mistake,” he murmured to himself. “I should’ve never come here…” Slate trudged through the dimming streets of Nome, the chill now matching the cold pit in his chest. Every glance felt like an accusation. Every whisper behind his back felt like another door slamming shut.
He rounded a corner, his head low, when—
Thud!
He collided with something warm and solid. Both of them stumbled slightly on the icy path.
“Oh! I—I’m so sorry,” Slate blurted out, ears folding back as he stepped away. “I didn’t see you—I wasn’t watching where I was going, I didn’t mean—”
A sharp inhale made him pause.
It was her.
The beautiful red husky stood frozen in place, amber eyes wide with disbelief. “…Steele?”
Slate’s heart sank.
“No,” he said quickly, lifting his head. “No—I’m not him. I swear I’m not.”
Jenna didn’t move. Her body was tense, her expression caught somewhere between alarm and confusion. “You look exactly like him…”
“I get that a lot today,” Slate muttered with a bitter smile, but then looked her in the eyes. “I promise, I’m not Steele. My name is Slate. I’m his brother. Twin brother.”
Jenna’s eyes narrowed. “You’re apologizing. Steele would never apologize—not even if he bowled over the mayor.”
Slate gave a soft chuckle. “Yeah, that sounds like him.”
That threw her.
She tilted her head, studying him more closely now—the subtle differences in posture, the gentler eyes, the humility in his stance.
“You really expect me to believe that?” she asked, voice guarded.
“I don’t expect anything,” Slate said, stepping back to give her space. “I know what my face looks like. I know what kind of damage Steele left behind. I’m not here to fix that or pretend it didn’t happen. I just wanted to see the town, maybe meet my brother… but everyone’s treated me like I’m already guilty.”
Jenna watched him closely, searching for the smug glint, the arrogance she knew so well—but it wasn’t there.
“What happened between you two?” she asked softly.
Slate hesitated. “It’s… complicated. We haven’t spoken in years. We’re nothing alike.”
Jenna didn’t answer right away. The sun dipped lower, casting a warm glow across the snow and making Slate’s black fur shimmer faintly in the light.
“I still don’t trust you,” she said finally. “But I don’t hate you either.”
Slate nodded slowly. “That’s more than I’ve gotten all day.”
There was a pause, then:
“…Balto’s been watching you,” Jenna added. “If anyone can figure out the truth… it’s him.”
Slate’s ears perked slightly, cautious hope flickering in his chest. “I’d like to meet him.”
Jenna gave him one last look—sharp but not unkind—and nodded once before walking past him, tail swishing thoughtfully.
Slate exhaled, the breath fogging up in the cold air.
Maybe… maybe there was still a chance.