Dasher
Dasher padded around the hunting grounds, the itchy grasses making his skin crawl as it brushed past his fur, and his stomach growling loud enough for all of China to hear. His nose twitched as a scent reached his nostrils and he stopped in his tracks, his body becoming statue-still. His ears flicked and he sniffed again, the smell stronger now. The grasses rustled like the leaves in autumn and Dasher moved his eyes to the right, catching a glimpse of a plump field mouse from the corner of his eyes. When he'd escaped the titanium steel bars of the puppy mill, he'd starved for more than two weeks before he found a pack of wild dogs like himself to help him. He'd become so skinny from the starvation, his ribs and hip bones stuck out of his skin, it seemed. He had become so fragile then, and you could still feel his ribs now. Not wanting to muss his chance, Dasher pounced on the mouse and the coppery taste of warm blood flooded his mouth. Licking his lips, he spied another mouse and crushed it in his jaws instantly. After about five or six plump field mice, Dasher became full and no longer starved. He lifted his muzzle to the sky at the sound of feet shuffling towards the hunting grounds and sniffed the air.
Human, he told himself as the scent flooded his nostrils, eyes growing wide with fear. He shot up his head, risking a small glance and catching a glimpse of s human's backside before their chin turned to look at Dasher, but he'd already buried himself in the grass.
(sorry fir taking so long to make first post. Anyone open?)