|| h o u n d s o n g s || literate hunting dog rp | OPEN

[toast;]

{{Yepp :3 and thank ya!}}

[Kat.]

{{ Otay! =D }}

[toast;]

{{I think I'm done :3}}

[Dumezil]

(We may start, right?)

The farm was beautiful in the morning. Even covered in mist, slightly chilly due to the fall weather rolling in, and the sounds of the animals waking up, it was a nice place. There was food, water, fun, work, friends, people, and most importantly, hunting. What more could a dog want? Then again, many dogs were easily pleased. Especially if they did not have to stay in a fence or on a leash. Bel intended on getting a lot better at hunting this year. While she had the instincts of a hunting dog and the normal amount of training for a gundog her age, Bel had age at her disadvantage as she had not had the five or so years of experience as the dogs she really admired had.

Stretching, Bel peared out of her wooden kennel, brown eyes shining brightly as the nub of her tail began to wag. Her nostrils flared in the cool morning air and she felt like something interesting was about to happen. Then again, she always felt like something interesting was about to happen. Long curly ears perked as she decided what she was going to do today. Maybe they would go hunting today! This weather was when they usually went. Mornings or evenings were the best times as well, but it seemed a little too late this morning. They usually before the sun came up was best and here it was now, peeking over the hills to reveal spots of forest through the mist. Oooh, how she loved the forest! And the fields! And hunting!

However, until she heard the hunter’s call it was up to her to amuse herself. Perhaps she would visit with the other dogs? Terrorize the farm animals when no-one was looking? Or best yet, go swimming in the duck pond. Deciding that was what she was going to do, Bel stood and crept out of the kennel before shaking off, nervous to get going. Why would anyone sit still when they had four good legs? Or two, such as the humans did. With that she trotted out into the yard, yawning and looking for others. Perhaps someone would want to join her?

[Kat.]

d u t c h e s s . . .
The sleepy hound awoke to a robin chirping in the windowsill. Usually Dutchess was forced to sleep in the barn, with hay collapsing onto her rumpled fur and the sweet scents of mice flooding her nose. But today was wet and muddy, and Mr. Cincilla--the owner of Milkyway Farm and their hunting master--would be busy getting the horses and cattle into the barns, which was why the dogs couldn't sleep there. The dogs could choose to sleep outside and never come back in untill the morning, when Mr. Cincilla could wash their paws, or they couldnap in the fuzzy, warmed, carpeted living room of the farmer's house, which was where Dutchess dicided to take.
Dutchess was given her name as a pup because her old owner liked to pretend to be a pirate. Her mother was nicknamed the 'Blackbeard's Wife' and her dead brother was Davy J. But Dutchess was a loyal, responsible hound and was given her name for her strength.