by Beebop » Wed Jun 16, 2010 6:41 pm
Bay emerged from the tunnel hours after the death of his beloved, the fur on his cheeks matted with dried tears, but no new ones coming. He held his head higher than one might expect, his expression icy and worn.
He surveyed the scene before him with a stoney eye, ignoring the others around him. Still, he couldn't help but rest his gaze on Alika, who had his two tiny daughters curled at her feet. She nuzzled them affectionately and stood, leaving Rowan to watch them instead.
Bay supposed he should go see them, what with them being his daughters and all. Or at least, Azalea had told him they were his. He could never be sure with her; he often worried she had flings with other dogs, most recently a labrador who had been adopted few months before the Bang. Still, he found his paws carrying him to the place where the puppies were sleeping, and upon arrival he cursed himself mentally for ever doubting his mate. There was obviously not a touch of labrador in them, and one's pointy ears proved his genes were there.
He still wasn't entirely sure how to feel about them, though. The shepherd ignored Rowan and sat beside them awkwardly, lifting one's head gently with his paw and causing her to whine. She was warm and soft to the touch, and smaller than Bay had ever thought possible. The spots on her coat were painfully reminiscent of her mother's. He felt a small pang of affection towards her, unsure of what he should do about it, but affectionate none the less. It occurred to him that he would have nothing to feed them, but his fretting was quickly cut short by another, nastier thought that crossed his mind. It was their fault.
Bay suddenly withdrew his paw, letting the newborn's head fall unto the ground below and watching as she cried and groped around blindly, unable to get away. Any traces of curiosity or affection left his face to be replaced by an expression of pure anger. He wrinkled his muzzle in disgust at what he had created, at how such a painfully innocent creature had taken his love from him. Bay had once hoped for a son, but now found himself glad the only boy had died and wishing that the other two would follow. These murderers, these cold-blooded killers had wormed their way inside their mother, attaching themselves to her like parasites and growing stronger by the day as they drained her strength. She had wasted away for them, and now they lived while she lay dead on the cold, unforgiving floor of the basement. His daughter's mewling made him sick and he suddenly had a wild urge to end her life where she lay, small and helpless, on the ground.
The shepherd quivered there for a few moments, willing his body to take her up and snap her neck in his powerful jaws, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He only became more angry at his own weakness and in a sudden outburst of rage he leapt forward, grabbing one of the puppies around it's middle. He didn't know or care which one it was; all he knew what that he hated it. Maybe he couldn't force himself to kill his own flesh and blood, but he could leave her to die. He would leave her to die. His young daughters would pay for what they had done to their mother, and he tore off through the rubble, his puppy crying and squirming between his teeth. Bay clamped his jaws down and ran, nearly blinded by his own rage, and willed his legs to take him somewhere where he could leave the wretched thing and never have to set eyes upon it again. Somewhere where the others could never find her.
((This post is a little hectic, sorry about that... Bay's just upset right now so his thoughts are all jumbled. That poor puppy, though D:))