Cypress laid down by the gate with a heavy sigh, licking his lips anxiously before putting his head on his paws. He fell asleep moments later, a drowsy feeling coming over his eyelids as they dropped down. Moments later he was in a dream, running with his old pack through an empty field with mountains on all side, blizzard roaring and ripping their pelts off. Being the smaller dog, Cypress was getting buffeted from side to side, but he kept pushing forward bravely. He was the lead dog, respected by all. Back then he was stern and wise, actually using his brain. Cypress shouldered through the blizzard, loping along as fast as he could in the screaming winds. Another sled was slowly gaining until it was beside them. The mushers cursed at each other in Russian, making Cypress wince just thinking about it. The other sled slowly pulled ahead. They were so close to the finish line. Cypress could almost see it throgh the haze of snow. The lead dog on the other team was neck and neck with him. Suddenly the lead dog leaned down and bit his leg, and pain flared. Cypress heard a loud crack, and he stumbled in agony, the other team going faster. His mushe screamed at him. The other dogs barked. Then there was the crack. Cypress tripped into it, his leg getting snapped clean in half. More cracks sounded as other places in his leg broke. Agony like he had never felt before spread. The musher had jumped off and was whipping him.

Cypress woke shivering, his ears pinned. He hated relaying that memory. It was terrible... and now his leg ached just thinking about it. A slight whimper escaped as he ut his head back down, afraid to go back asleep.