Shards
an excerpt

She opened the oversized door, and, prepared for barking, waited. Nothing. Could it be her brother's clothing helps? They're used to her brother – he takes them out by himself all the time. Huh. Trying to remember in which order her father harnessed the dogs to the sled, she first reached for Barney, and hooked him up on the right side closest to the sled. Barney gave her no trouble at all and obeyed her every order. She then hooked up Squibbles, Fife, TomTom, Henrietta, and Oliver, who started to bark, but shut up as soon as she ordered him to. They were well-trained dogs, used to keeping quiet when ordered – it made hunting for elk, deer, or moose so much easier for her father and brothers.

She loaded up her childhood toboggan on the sled, figuring she might need it later to tow her things after she left the dogs behind somewhere. Meadow Lake, maybe? On top of the toboggan, she loaded her father's trail pack – it was always ready to go, its supplies replenished every night immediately after her father returned from wherever he went. It was a habit he'd established long ago, along with taking care of the dogs. He treats the dogs better than he treats his kids, she mused. She knew he'd be angry when he discovered the dogs, the sled, and his trail pack gone, but with any luck, she'd never see him again, and she couldn't afford the time to put her own trail pack together. Besides, he got the best equipment while the kids always got barely useable equipment. Nope, she was going prepared, not with stuff that would fail in the middle of a snowstorm.

In front of her father's trail pack, she loaded her own rucksack and the food bag, and added a bag of meat for the dogs. Just as she was about to leave, she remembered her snowshoes, grabbed them, and lashed them down. She put her gloves back on, mushed the dogs out of the shed, shut the doors, and saw snow falling, gently, quietly. Big Doona was out, full, and Little Moon was a quarter moon. Lots of light with only a few clouds in the sky. This was good news, she knew. Snowfall would cover her tracks.

"Mush! Mush! Hiya!" She urged the dogs forward as quietly as she could. "Mush, Oliver, mush!" Oliver had always liked her – she'd spent a lot of time playing with him when he was younger. They were moving, silently except for the sound of the sled on the soft snow. She took one last look at the rickety house she hoped she never need see again. Then she turned ahead and steered the dogs north. North, to safety, and away from the lawlessness of the south. North, to warmth and the big cities. North, to civilization and a strange new world, one she'd never before seen.