- ❝ ☄ ＧＵＮＴＨＥＲ ！！──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
( age: five years ) . ( breed: gsp ) . ( rank: stray ) . ( location: green meadow ) . ( tagged: chase, lexie ) . ( words: 1166 )
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- indent gunther's fangs gently clamped down on the border collie's neck, but he knew that there was no way on earth that he would kill the dog underneath him. the german shorthaired pointer could be cruel as all get-out, but not so without his morals that he would murder a dog just to split a rabbit with his brother. it was ludicrous! so he simply kept his teeth hovering over the dog's quaking throat as he scrabbled pathetically at gunther's unprotected belly; he continued to leave his fangs there as a warning that, the more the dog struggled, the harder this was going to be for the both of them. he dodged out of the way of the collie's madly wiggling hind paws and waving legs with ease, coming around to stand over him from his left side; that way he could keep his hold on him and watch the brown retriever across from him. he knew from the tensing of her shoulders and leg muscles that she was going to leap for him, but he also knew that his previous words had startled . . . and maybe even flattered her, because she stood still for a second and allowed him to grab her packmake's neck. he wasn't as prepared for her attack as he thought he was going to be when she suddenly pulled herself out of her thoughts and surged forward, snarling, "not if i can help it, you're not!" before she reached him, with lightning fast speed, gunther released the collie's neck and instead sank his teeth into its left leg, biting down hard and mauling the flesh with long, lean teeth that were meant to do just that: maul, mutilate, and destroy. the oldest of the assembled dogs let out a grunt as the retriever collided with him, but his teeth were so set into the border collie's leg that he couldn't relax his grip in time. the force of the female dog's push sent gunther falling sideways with the collie's leg still lodged in his bloodied teeth. the sharp snap that immediately exploded from the blood-slathered ligament met the pointer's ears as well as the younger dog's pain-filled, high-pitched yelp; immediately, he couldn't help but feel a rush of guilt. had he just broken the pack dog's leg? though a part of him was thankful that he had - now dodge was in no way getting caught, and now he only had to worry about the retriever - for the most part, he was filled with horror and anguish.
indent this is not who i am! i am a dog of honor. no matter what these candids think of strays, i am not wild and untamed like those they have encountered before. i am better than these . . . savage ways! gunther, amber eyes flown wide as he looked down the length of his long snout at the awkwardly twisted leg, eased his teeth from it and backed off. he slid his tongue - now a ghastly pinkish red - over his bloody nose and chin and lowered his floppy ears all the more with his shame as the collie struggled to his three good feet. he stared at the collie, this time his gaze no longer full of hate and disdain, but filled with the smallest of apologies that he wouldn't dare utter aloud due to his pride. the chocolate brown, white-flecked dog supposed that he earned what came next from the scarlet-stained dog: a growl of hate and reproach in an effort to hide humiliation and pain.
indent gunther's dark eyes flicked from the retriever to her colleague and then back again; both were furious, both were ruffled . . . and both looked just about ready to tear him apart. as silence stretched on between the dogs, filling the space between them with tension, gunther mused. i don't want to wind up hurting them any more than i have to. it could have consequences that are greater than me. i could bring the entire pack upon me if i kill either of them, no doubt, and the last thing i want is for my . . . relatively peaceful life with dodge to be disturbed and tossed into chaos. his eyes, daringly, had the nerve to stray from the pack canines, and as they did, they caught sight of the trail that dodge had beat into the meadow's grass in his haste to get away. the pointer nervously waggled his tail; that path would lead them right to his brother. the best i can hope to do is lead them in the opposite direction. he glanced upward for a heartbeat, noticing that great, ominous gray clouds had amassed in the sky, and that they looked about ready to burst. if i can get them - and by them, i mean the only one who can run, the retriever - to chase me long enough until it starts to rain, the rain should wash away all traces of dodge's scent and erase his path. though that . . . means that it will also make it a whole lot harder to track him down, using the rain to my advantage is a risk i am willing to take. i've been trained to stalk birds in the middle of winter. i know i can find him; my nose is strong enough. but these dogs . . these dogs that have had no training in my field of expertise? they would never be able to find dodge should the rain rid the meadow of his and the rabbit's scent. i just . . . he shifted his intense gaze to the brown female, and kept it on her. i just have to be quick enough and smart enough to keep that fae on her toes and keep her coming after me until the clouds lay their watery burdens down.
indent so as to portray that he wasn't concerned at all by the thought of the pack dogs and the threats that were in their eyes, gunther wagged his tail and lapped at his nose one more time. he realized that he probably looked crazy for what he did next, but he didn't care. all that mattered was getting their attention and ensuring that it stayed on him. the pointer promptly pivoted and waggled his rump and stumpy tail right in the dogs' faces - a class one move meant to irritate and flabbergast. and though he normally wasn't one to tease, usually one to keep his emotions in check and stoic, flinch-worthy words at the tip of his tongue, the pointer dog was lenient enough on himself to woof out: "though i didn't mean for things to turn so sour so fast, i'm afraid i'm going to have to run. if you really want to get rid of me, you're going to have to make me . . . but you're also going to have to catch me first!" he said the last bit of the sentence to the retriever before, with a gruff bark, he stopped exposing his hindquarters to the two of them and leaped off into the meadow's lush grasses.
- ❝ ✧ ＤＯＤＧＥＲ ！！──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
( age: two years ) . ( breed: gsp ) . ( rank: stray ) . ( location: pack dog woods ) . ( tagged: caleb, marmaduke ) . ( words: 1753 )
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- indent dodger couldn't deny the fact that he was smitten with himself and proud of his escape when he exited the meadow and trotted into the wood. he was drunk on the reality of his speed . . . how fast his long legs had carried him out of trouble. though a part of him secretly thought that his running away was cowardly, and though a part of him secretly thought that gunther was having all the fun by getting to toy with the pack dogs, he was still satisfied with himself and how well he'd met his superior's demands. it wasn't often that he did what gunther asked, but today was just one of those days that dodger was willing to comply . . especially if his compliance meant a full stomach. he was almost bursting with his pride in himself . . but that didn't mean that the pointer dog wasn't feeling some regrets for leaving gunther and scurrying off, as, what would be the point of a meal for two if only one half of the party showed up? there was a storm looming on the horizon behind him, and the clouds and lightning that bellowed within its belly looked severe and ominous and destruction-worthy, so dodger couldn't help but pause before he padded too far into the forest. he glanced over one of his brown shoulders and squinted his eyes to try to see if he could make out gunther's dark form streaking through the long grass toward him, but he saw nothing and no one. concern formed a hard lump in the back of the youngster's throat. he should be here by now, or . . any moment now, right? he continued to hesitate with his round hazel eyes cast over his shoulder behind him. it shouldn't be taking him this long to handle that collie and retriever. if he stays out for much longer and he's the tallest thing out on that meadow, a grumble of thunder from above erupted and pealed through the air, then he's going to get struck by lightning. and even gunther, the strongest living thing i know, cannot withstand a blast from a lightning bolt.
indent the brute held his ground, staring down the advancing, nasty-looking storm with eyes that were suddenly narrowed in their determination to wait for his family. his body was heaving from his run, his sweat-slicked pelt only getting all the more sweat-soaked due to the humidity and heavy feeling in the air; the rabbit hung limply in his lean jaws, now very crumpled, very dirty, and very bloody from all it had endured since its untimely death. he waited, waited, waited . . . waited until he hated the word "waited", but gunther still didn't show up . . even after the giant storm had traveled nearly all the way across the meadow in the time that the dog had been standing there. alarm tittered in dodger's chest, and he moved to march right back out onto the meadow and find his brother, leave their hard-earned rabbit if he had to. but then he started, heartbeats after subconsciously making the decision to retrace his steps back to gun. is this what i was commanded to do? would gunther want me to risk my safety after all he has sacrificed and put on the line to get me out of the meadow without the pack dogs on my trail? yes, knowing him. but can i abandon my feelings and trust him? dodger let out a pained whimper, closing his eyes and tightening his grip on the rabbit out of how torn and scared for his brother he was. when he opened his eyes again, they were filled to their brims with renewed confidence and strength. yes. yes i can. i have to be like gunther in times like these, emotionless and detached. is this how it feels to be him? putting his duties before what his heart wants? with one last solemn, long stare at the meadow just in case gunther came tearing up over the closest hillside at any moment, he turned and headed further into the wood.
indent he pressed on, all while everything inside him was screaming at him to drop the rabbit, whip around, and run as fast as he could - possibly outrun lightning itself - across the meadow to find gun. but he fought his aching legs, his warring heart, and willed himself to go deeper and deeper into the forest with the reassurance in his brain that he was doing what had been ordered of him. to distract himself from his fretting, the german shorthaired pointer tried to examine his surroundings, which were all very spooky and ghostly with the darkness that the storm was casting over the land. he'd never entered the forest . . mostly because of gunther's constant lecturing and drilling into his head that the pack dogs' camp laid within its depths, and that it was off-limits. but i couldn't scent anything fresh when i was at the edge of the wood just now! smells to me like a patrol hasn't come by in days, at the least. dodger swung his head from side to side, looking for someplace to bed down and wait out the storm until he could try to find gunther. however, it was hard to see with only the flashing of the lightning - which was bearing down on top of him now - every few heartbeats to ignite the forest in light. humph, the pack dogs call themselves organized, and yet they can scarcely keep their terrain under control. surely, if they cannot manage their borders, i can permit myself to at least stay at the edge of their lands for a little while? he thought as he, at long last, came across a birch tree that had a massive tunnel - a den - beneath its knobby roots. content with the fact that no one would find him and that he would head out into the meadow once more when the storm blew over, dodger gratefully sank to the forest floor, rabbit still in his jaws. his legs were trembling something awful from all of his running and brisk walking, but, thankfully, his pelt was cooling off and his panting was diminishing into raspy breathing.
indent the poor stray was about to hunker down on his belly to wriggle his way into the den - rabbit still caught between his teeth, which glistened in the gathering darkness - when, all of a sudden, a dark shape catapulted from a nearby bush and landed on top of him. dodger let out a wild, yipping howl of shock and fear as the animal - was it a dog? something bigger, something meaner? his attacker's eyes, as he caught a faint glimpse of them, told him that they were the latter - flung him backwards and to the forest floor. the rabbit went spiraling from his mouth when he opened his jaws to cry out, and it disappeared into the wood, likely never to be seen again, much less eaten. the pointer thunked his head on the earth, and all of the wind was chased from his lungs, replaced by an unbearable, painful longing within himself for air. he moaned, defeated and disoriented with his head now spinning, as the animal that had ferociously attacked him pinned him to the ground rather mercilessly with both its huge paws and the terrifying magnitude of its yellow orbs. as the dog . . . thing (he couldn't make out what breed it was, but something told him that it wasn't exactly your average lap dog, that it was more ancient and powerful) spoke to him, growling and snapping and verbally taunting him with words such as "mutt", "crime", and "thief", dodger looked up at it, hazel eyes wide and dazed and scared out of their wits from the assault of the brute. the black creature didn't permit the pointer a word in, instead sweeping on and allowing his words to be spilled from his throat by anger's paw, so dodger didn't even attempt to speak. he just, hopelessly, with a whine gurgling from his mouth, tried to push the bigger animal off of him, but to no avail. he halted in his bucking and whining whenever the thing dug its claws into his chest, coming awfully close to drawing blood. but he wasn't about to give up: the stray simply tried to conserve his dwindling strength - all of his energy was nearly zapped right out of him from his running, his breath being stolen from him, and from his struggling against the thing, after all - and listen carefully.
indent dodger's eyes widened and grew all the more brighter with his turmoil and fear when another dog - this one actually visible in the flitting light due to its harlequin pelt and odd eyes: it was a great dane - slipped from the underbrush behind the first dog. it didn't take long for the cunning young male to put two and two together and realize that these were pack dogs . . . and that, apparently, they were doing a better job of patrolling that he'd originally thought. he found his gaze hardening and growing angry whenever he heard the great dane address whom was clearly his leader: "i can find him, alpha. or would you like help with this thief?" they were talking about gunther, he realized! gunther! and though a part of dodger wanted to believe the best and know that his brother could handle the two dogs that had materialized out of nowhere to attack him, a tiny voice in the back of his mind whispered something quite the opposite of what he hoped to be true. the voice said: even gunther cannot handle these two alone. he will surely die. so, aloud, he responded to the voice, crying out to the great dane and black dog with rage in his voice and in the way he spontaneously began to jerk his limbs again in order to free himself. "no! don't even think about going after him!" dodger, young as he was, knew that disclosing gunther's name was not something he wanted to do, so he kept who "he" was anonymous to the pair. "i won't let you! do with me what you will, take me back to your stupid camp . . kill me if you'd like, but don't lay a single tooth or claw on his pelt, or i'll tear you apart no matter how long it takes or how many of your packmates stand in my way. no one threatens someone that i care about and lives to tell a single tale."
