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Prince gets depressed

Chopped because it slowed the pace down during the most crucial section of the novel:

The next few days were a blur.

I watched the Family from behind an invisible wall, unable to break through. At night, my wolf-dreams became nightmares and I would jump awake, cold with fear.

I couldn’t eat. I would just stare at my bowl, looking down at the meat and biscuits, as if trying to unscramble some secret code.

I’d hear voices. The Family, miles above me.

‘He looks terrible.’

‘He hasn’t touched it.’

‘What’s the matter boy?’

‘Poor Prince.’

But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t engage. Nothing made sense any more. Nothing held together.

When I went for a walk, I was no longer interested in keeping track of the trails on the pavement or in spraying my Labrador scent. My loyalty to the breed was waning, and I was losing faith in the Pact.

Without knowing how to act, how could I act at all?

Eventually, Adam decided to take matters into his own hands.

‘All right Prince,’ he told me, with a conciliatory head-stroke. ‘I think it’s time we took you to see Nice Mister Vet.’