One
“Hurry up, you lazy ratpaws!” Elizabeth, a Australian Shepherd, called over her shoulder as she bolted down the street. Two dogs shot after her with joyful barks. One of them was an American Foxhound named Jaxson, and the other was a Alaskan Malamute named Gallant. The three hurtled down the dark road, their paws flinging rocks aside as if they were nothing.
“Oi! Halt there, strays!” A hollering voice snapped. The three staggered to a stop, turning their heads. Jaxson bared his teeth, defensively pinning his ears back. Gallant stood menacingly as always, a glare forming in his eyes. While Elizabeth cowardly hid behind the to with her ears pinned and her small stub of a tail down.
The dogs standing in front of them were apart of what dogs and strays call “Tragic Paws,” a group of German Shepards who kill or capture other dogs for fun. It’s like they’re an evil military, from what Elizabeth heard. The lead dog gave a snarl that seemed to rattle Elizabeth’s spine, “Who do you think you are, stalking into a dog’s territory like you own the place? Are you a bunch’a pups or something?” The dog asked.
Gallant stepped forward, “We didn’t know this was your territory. We’ll leave and never come back.” He remarked loudly, his tail twitching with annoyance. The dogs barked out with laughter. The leader, Elizabeth noticed, was old and ragged. It spoke again, “We don’t just ‘let’ dogs like ya’ go, y’know? You trespassed and now we must take ya’ to His Mighty!” He rasped.
‘His Mighty?’ What? Elizabeth thought. She didn’t like the sound of that, not at all. The old dog pointed his tail at Gallant. Three bigger Germans shoved forward and surrounded him, biting at his rump. “Gall!” Elizabeth yelped, but a sharp pain hit her leg. Jaxson grabbed her, turning, “We have to go with them, Liz.” He whimpered.
Gallant started to walk with the Tragic Paws, his head low. Elizabeth and Jaxson followed suit, their ears pinned against their head. What if she made it out alive? Where would she go if Gallant and Jaxson couldn’t come with her? Was this the end?
They came across a dark alleyway full of mean-looking, snarling dogs. Elizabeth’s ears pinned as she crept down the smooth floor. But one dog caught her eye. He looked different, a mutt he was, his ears flopped and his body smaller and creamier colored. It scurried forward and bowed towards the old dog, “Sir Reckless, Alp- er, His Mighty, is busy right now.” He remarked quietly. Reckless slammed his paw against the mutt’s snout, snarling, “I don’t give a damn! Tell him his father has unwanted guests.” He snapped.
Elizabeth felt sympathy for the mutt as he backed up with a whine, his tail between his legs. He ran into a cave, and everything fell silent.
A loud roar of outrages snarls echoed, shushing every dog in the cave. The mutt rushed out with loud, painful whimpers. A paw stepped out of the shadowed cave, glowing eyes of yellow gleaming in the darkness.
A giant dog emerged, his paws massive, his snout long and scarred, his ears ripped and torn, his body muscular and flexed. This must be the ‘Mighty’ they’re talking about. Elizabeth thought, clinging herself to Jaxson.
“Reckless, this better be important for you to bother me like this.” It growled roughly, wagging his tail in arrogance. A unusual dog followed, Elizabeth guessed it was a husky-wolf mixed-breed.
“I might as well introduce myself.” The lead dog smiled, “I am Abaddon, also known as The Mighty. I lead the group you call Tragic Paws, while we are known as the Brigade of Chrome. This is my Beta-Dog, Onslaught.” Abaddon’s tail swished to the white-and-black mutt beside him.
Elizabeth nodded.
What the hell was she getting herself into?
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Ehehehe short chapters like always. Anyways have fun :)
