The morning rain had just stopped in the small town of Hollow Creek when a faint shaky cry echoed from beneath a metal storm drain. A passer by paused, confused, before noticing a tiny white furred puppy pressed against the grated opening. His body was soaked, paws muddy, and his whole frame trembled with fear.

 Whenever someone came close, he didn’t run away. He cried louder, staring pleadingly into the darkness below, as if calling to something hidden inside. Rescue worker Mason Reed arrived minutes later, kneeling beside the drain as the white puppy poured desperately at the edge. Mason tried to lift him, but the puppy twisted free, slipping back toward the opening with a panicked whine. It wasn’t fear of people.

 Mason could see that instantly. It was something deeper, something pulling him back into the shadows. Mason knelt lower and aimed his flashlight into the flooded drain. The beam cut through the murky water, revealing a small shape trembling on a raised slab of concrete. It was another puppy, much smaller, brown furred, curled into a weak, shivering ball.

 His breaths were shallow, his nose barely above the rising water. The white puppy barked frantically, as if begging Mason to hurry. understanding dawned on him, their siblings, and he won’t leave without his brother. The drain was narrow, cold, and slick with rainwater, but Mason didn’t hesitate. He lay on his stomach and crawled in inch by inch, while the white puppy followed close behind, whining anxiously.

 When Mason reached the brown puppy, the little one, didn’t even lift his head. He was freezing, exhausted, and moments away from losing the strength to hold on. Mason wrapped the brown puppy in a waterproof cloth, then backed out slowly. The white puppy practically pressed against his arm the entire time. As soon as they surfaced, the white puppy rushed forward, licking his brother’s face with soft, desperate whimpers.

 The sight pulled at Mason’s heart. Back at the rescue center, the brown puppy was given heat pads, warm fluids, and gentle drying. His temperature was dangerously low, but stable. Meanwhile, the white puppy refused to leave his side, even for food. He curled around his brother, warming him with his own tiny body, refusing to sleep unless their fur touched.

 Hours later, the brown puppy finally lifted his head, his eyes, cloudy with exhaustion, searched the room until they found his brother. The white puppy wagged his tail for the first time all day, slow, timid, but full of relief. Over the next week, both puppies gained strength. Staff quickly learned that the white puppy always ate second, only after making sure his brother had enough.

 During checkups, the brown puppy refused to be held unless his brother was within sight. The bond between them was absolute, built on survival, fear, and a love stronger than instinct. Mason visited them everyday. Watching the white puppy rest his chin protectively over his brother made him smile each time.

 “You’re a brave little guy,” he whispered. You saved him. When both puppies had fully recovered, a family from the nearby town of Willowbend applied to adopt both of them, refusing to separate the brothers who had clung to each other through a storm. On the adoption day, the white puppy pressed his forehead gently against Mason’s hand, as if offering a silent thank you before trottting after his brother toward their new life.

 Two small puppies had entered the world with nothing but each other. But together they survived because one tiny white dog refused to give