Dedbone’s Hole was a greyhound farm, where the masters made the rules and where no dog was free. Furgul was born in one of the whelping cages, whose floor was hard and cold and damp, but Furgul and his three sisters kept one another warm. Keeva gave them milk and love. And for the first few weeks of their lives, the pups were happy. Yet as Furgul learned how to walk and talk, and as his eyes, nose and ears grew keen, he realized that Dedbone’s Hole was ruled by boots and teeth and chains. Every dawn he heard the voices of the masters, harsh and angry and mean.
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“I want Mama. And Eena and Brid.” Furgul knew exactly how Nessa felt. But his instinct told him that if they felt sorry for themselves, they would never see daylight again. He had to be tough. He said, “For the moment all you’ve got is me.” “You won’t leave me, Furgul, will you?” “No,” said Furgul. “But you’ve got to walk. And you can’t cry.”
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tunnel. “Rest here for a minute,” said Furgul. He investigated first one tunnel and then the other. In the second he detected a faint smell of water. “We’ll go this way,” he said. On and on they went. Furgul soon realized that this tunnel was going downhill. They were going deeper and deeper underground. That
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The ghost hounds surged down the slope and through the valley, flattening the grass and bending the trunks of even the strongest trees. In the distance the flames
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