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Multiple Settings Stray Dog Haven- Ghost's Pack

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-CHIEF-

Momentarily distracted by Ches’s sudden arrival, Chief’s sharp ears caught a high-pitched yelp from Chive. Instantly alert, the massive Kangal spun toward the brush where the curious pup had wandered off. Without hesitation, Chief charged through the foliage, his muscular frame moving with urgency. The scene that greeted him made his blood boil, a raccoon had latched onto Chive.

A ferocious growl erupted from deep within Chief's chest, a sound that sent shivers through the air. He launched himself forward, jaws clamping down on the raccoon’s back with a force that left no room for mercy. The startled creature released Chive instantly, its claws flailing as Chief shook it with violent precision, his powerful frame swinging the intruder like a ragdoll. With a final, brutal toss, the raccoon collided with a nearby tree and lay still, its body limp. Most likely paralyzed due to the impact of the dog's canines on it's spine.

Chief’s amber eyes, normally calm and watchful, burned with raw intensity as he stalked toward the motionless form. His lips curled back, revealing gleaming teeth, and a low snarl rumbled from his throat. Gone was the reserved, protective "big-puppy" his packmates knew- here stood a fearsome predator, unyielding in his wrath.

“I’m no fan of vermin,” Chief growled, his voice a menacing rumble as he loomed over the raccoon, “but anything foolish enough to hurt a pup deserves to be eaten.” With that, his jaws snapped shut around the creature’s neck, the final, decisive blow ending its life.

Chief stepped back, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, his gaze softening only when it returned to Chive. He leaned down, nudging the pup gently with his nose, checking for injuries. As Nessie approached the scene in hysterics Chief would be quick to reassure the motherly figure of the young pup, "He'll live. A small tussle with a raccoon is all. I'd have Agnes check on the bite if anything, shouldn't have to worry bout any rabies. The thing smelled free of it."

Giving the two some space he went to retrieve the food Chive seemed so hellbent on sharing with the raccoon, dropping it at the pup's feet. "Id be more careful next time Kuzukuk, ya never know what lies behind some brush. You're lucky it was just some rodent." Chief took a lap at the pup's neck, nodding his head in respect at Nessie before going to grab the raccoon's corpse, making true to his promise in eating it.
 
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Lumi staggered and stopped, the coughing fit wracking her body. In a flash an adult was there, Ches giving an admonishing look at Trinket.
"Wait.." Lumi stammered between coughing. "Trinket didn't do anything wrong. I told him to chase me."
She fixed Ches with the earnest eyes of a child standing up for justice. "You can be mad at me but not Trinket." She said with a stubborn finality unbecoming of her tiny size.

She glanced back at Trinket with a parted smile.
Suddenly a puppy scream tore through the air. Lumi gasped. "That's Chive!"
Without another thought Lumi galloped in the direction it had come from.
When Lumi arrived, the creature was already dead, and Chive was lying on his side, red blood seeping into his pretty golden fur.
"Oh Chive!" She ran to him, whimpering and nudging his shoulder gently. She began licking the wound with her little pink tongue.
"Does it hurt?" She asked in a small voice.

She stood back as Nessie arrived, pausing for only a minute before turning on her heel.
"I'm gonna go get Agnes!"

It was only a few bounds to the porch, but Lumi felt like it took an eternity. She started calling for the medicine dog before she made the steps.
"Agnes Agnes! Chive got bit by an animal!"
She practically ran into the older dog's front legs in her rush to get to her.
There were flecks of Chive's blood on her muzzle and her expression was one of deep fear.
"You can fix him right? You can? Please you have to!"

Lumi hadn't spoken much of the brother she lost back at the mill, but the pain of it was etched onto her face. She was terrified of losing Chive like she'd lost him, and Kobi too. In truth the wound was likely not all that serious, but to her child-like experience, Chive could be dying.

Society of Strays Society of Strays m4ngy.mutt m4ngy.mutt CHUUYAS_HAT CHUUYAS_HAT Rusty Angel Rusty Angel
 
Finally, her new mentor, Bo, turned to acknowledge her. Rogue stood up straight, hoping he hadn’t noticed her jumping after that fly like an overexcited pup. More than anything, she wanted to prove she could be useful to the pack, not just a burden. She was used to being treated like one. Ever since she was born, the pale-skins had made it clear she wasn’t wanted, and her siblings never let her forget it. They teased her relentlessly, calling her a waste of space just because she alone had inherited her father’s blue eyes and pink nose. Looking different had always made her an outsider. However, she wasn’t a helpless pup anymore. And this wasn’t her siblings’ home. This was her pack now. Her family. And she would do everything she could to prove she belonged.
"Yes, sir. I’m with you," Rogue said to Beaufort, her tail wagging before she could stop it. The excitement was too much to contain. He had addressed her properly, no longer just pup, and that meant everything. She was ready to learn.
With that, they followed Ghost out of the house, passing by the puppies playing in the front yard. A pang of longing stirred in Rogue as she watched them tumble through the grass, yipping and play-fighting. For a moment, she yearned to join them, to lose herself in carefree play like she had in her first days with the pack. Her steps slowed unconsciously, eyes lingering on the scene. Then she realized how far behind she had fallen and with a jolt, Rogue dashed forward, berating herself for getting distracted so easily.
As they walked through the woods, she hung on to Bo’s every word. She didn’t interrupt, only speaking when she had carefully thought through her questions, making sure none of them were stupid. When he spoke about following scents, she lifted her nose, trying to pick something out, only to be bombarded by a chaotic mix of smells, none of which made sense to her. Frowning, she tried again, lowering her snout to the ground. This time, she caught something distinct: a musty scent, like damp earth left untouched for too long. The smell grew stronger as they reached their destination, a ditch cluttered with the nonsense the pale-skins had discarded.
Remembering Bo’s lesson about tracking feathers, Rogue sniffed again, struggling to pick out anything beyond the overwhelming stench of decay. She padded through the debris, searching, but nothing seemed worth presenting to the others. Then Bo called out. Ears perking, she turned toward him and bounded across the bank, only to freeze mid-step.
A box.
A large moving box, just like the one she had been abandoned in. Her chest tightened. A flood of memories surged forward, unbidden and unwelcome. Was there a puppy inside? Someone left behind, just like she had been?
Her scenting skills weren’t refined yet, but she was certain she would have picked up the scent of another dog. Steeling herself, she crept forward, heart pounding so hard she swore her companions could hear it. Fear coiled through her small frame as she circled around, forcing herself to look inside. A fleece blanket. That was all. A heavy sigh escaped her before she could stop it, and she quickly covered the noise with a sharp bark, not wanting to appear weak.
"Here, I’ll get it," she said hastily, darting forward to pull the fleece from the box. Gripping it gently in her teeth, she gave it a careful tug, making sure not to drag it through any puddles. The fabric was soft against her mouth, smelling far fresher than the other moldy junk littering the ditch. Climbing back up the bank, she placed it on a dry tuft of grass before turning back to help search for more.
Before long, her honey-gold paws were slick with mud and tangled in dead weeds. She barely noticed, too focused on the task at hand. As she sifted through the debris, something caught her eye, a pink blanket, covered in hearts, draped over a mound of trash. Rogue stepped forward to grab it, hastily jumping back with a startled yelp, the blanket had moved. Her fur bristling, gaze darting around, searching for Bo or Ghost. Help. Where were they?
Again, she scolded herself, she should be better than this, braver. But she had no time for self-lectures now. The blanket twitched again, followed by a sharp hissing squeak that cut through the air. Rogue whined instinctively, tail tucking between her legs
The first sign of a fight, and her immediate reaction was to run.
 
★ The Hunt & The Confrontation ★



➤ Scavenging & Training

Ghost was immediately pleased to see that Bo and Rogue were starting their training. It was about time. He watched with silent approval as they moved, working together to collect a blanket. Rogue was proving herself—slowly, but progress was progress.

Leaving them to their task, Ghost moved deeper into the ditch. His sharp eyes scanned the heaps of discarded things, looking for anything useful. Amidst the damp trash and broken debris, he found a pillow half-buried in a pile. Clamping his jaws around the fabric, he yanked it free with a forceful tug, shaking loose a few stray leaves before tossing it onto drier ground to retrieve later.




➤ Into the Forest

A moment more passed, and Ghost found himself near the far end of the ditch, where the trees stretched their limbs into the sky, their bare branches tangled in morning mist. The fog had long since burned away from the neighborhood, but here, the air was still cool, thick with the scents of damp bark and hidden creatures. Ghost inhaled deeply, relishing the crispness of it, the way the wild always smelled richer than the filth of human places.

The itch to hunt stirred in him. He needed something more than scraps, something fresh.

Ghost’s paws moved soundlessly over the undergrowth as he searched, his body low and controlled. His ears twitched at every rustle, his keen nose working to separate prey from the decay of fallen leaves. The first catch was a grackle—noisy thing had barely seen him coming before he snapped it up in his jaws. Next came two rabbits, their warm bodies now limp in his grasp.

Satisfied, Ghost turned back toward the ditch but hesitated. He needed something to carry his prizes. There was no sense in multiple trips.

Padding back to the trash heaps, it wasn’t long before he unearthed an old wicker basket, its handles frayed but still intact. Carefully, he arranged the rabbits and bird inside, along with the pillow he had found earlier. Stepping back, he gave a short nod of approval.

A good haul.

Then, he heard it.

A bark. Small, distant. Or was it just the wind?

Ghost’s hackles rose slightly, but he stayed still, listening. Nothing followed immediately, so he grabbed his basket and started back. He made it to where he had left the second pillow when the sound came again. This time, a whine.

Not the wind.



➤ The Confrontation

Ghost dropped his basket without a second thought. The food and bedding could wait. His paws pounded against the ground as he bolted toward the noise, weaving through the familiar path of the ditch. The scent of Rogue hit his nose first—anxiety, fear. He found her quickly.

A heart-patterned blanket lay discarded in the grass, but Rogue wasn’t touching it. Instead, she stood at the bottom of a small trash pile, her tail tucked tightly beneath her. On top of the heap sat a rat. A large one.

Ghost’s lip curled immediately, his upper teeth glinting as he let out a deep, snarling growl. This wasn’t a low warning—it was a threat, sharp and full of promised violence.

The rat’s beady eyes flicked from Rogue to Ghost. It was smart enough to recognize danger, but Ghost knew better than to expect it to run. A rat with a good stash would fight, no matter the odds. And this one? It had no intention of backing down.

Ghost could kill it. Easily. But the rat wasn’t looking at him. It was looking at Rogue again. If it lunged for her first—he was close, but not close enough. A few rabbit hops too far. And Rogue?

She wouldn’t stand a chance.

Ghost didn’t move, muscles coiled tight, waiting for Bo. The rat twitched. Ghost bared his teeth further.

Any second now.


 
She listened, a twinge of sympathy and understanding filling her as the Pomeranian explained her troubles. They sounded similar to what Walker’s had been in some ways. Moving vs. standing still, and vastness and quiet, vs. crowds and bustling. Perhaps it would just be a matter of Albatross staying with them long enough to get used to her new surroundings… though even then, she couldn’t really say whether that ebbing curiosity of hers would ever truly go away.

She sat into her haunches, “Maybe just give it some time,” Walker offered, nodding when she suggested moving on, “Alright. You’re right. We should go, but if you ever need-“

The scent of something cut her off. She looked around wildly, trying to find it’s source, her tail swishing slowly, then picking up speed. This wasn’t the scent of some stranger. There was a warm familiarness to it.

A patter of small footsteps, and sudden crash through the brush confirmed her suspicions, as she jumped to her feet, rushing forward to meet the small brown dog who had helped her and her companions in the early days of the pack.

“Fawn? Is that you?” she pressed her nose to the spaniel’s, her tail wagging excitedly as she greeted her friend, “It’s so good to see you! I was so worried when you left!” When she last saw her, she was following after a small pale-skin, hoping they could provide her another home. The thought shook her to her core. In Walker’s experience, nothing good ever came from relying on pale skins. What had she been through that caused her to wander back here in such a state?

Setting aside her concerns for the moment, she beamed down at the wayward dog, “I’m glad you’re alright. What brings you here?”

While her heart was still light with the revelation that her friend was alive, and seemed well despite the state of her coat, it did raise an important question: what should she do about the patrol? She couldn’t just leave it unfinished. That would open up the pack to who knew how many threats! But she couldn’t leave Fawn unprotected either. The other dogs didn’t know her, and they might run her off, believing her to be an intruder.

Going over her options, she turned back to her fluffy, white companion.

“Albatross, this is Fawn. She helped the pack early on when we were looking for a home. She’s the reason we even have one today,” she walked over to the sprightly Pomeranian, “I have an important job for you. Can you escort her back to the house? When you get there, take her to Ghost. If any dog tries to stop you, tell them the order came straight from me. Bite their ankles if you have to. Don’t worry about the patrol, I’ll finish it out myself. Just make sure you get her back safely,” her eyes shown warmly on her little packmate, “Can I count on you to do this?”

CHUUYAS_HAT CHUUYAS_HAT Chaotic Poem Chaotic Poem

As Chive’s sharp cry pierced the air, and Chief overtook the pursuit, Ches veered back, attempting to guard the two remaining pups from whatever danger the golden had come across, but a streak of white rushing past him showed just how well that had gone.

Fleas and ticks!” he growled under his breath, as he ran after her, calling back over his shoulder to Trinket, “Don’t move!”

When he reached the scene, he was alarmed at first to see Chive, bitten and on the ground, but upon closer inspection, the puppy seemed a little beaten, but otherwise fine. Nessie was already there, and Chief was feasting on the apparent culprit of the whole ordeal. A raccoon.

He sat back for a moment, scratching his ear with his hind leg to calm his remaining nerves.

Ticks, Chive, you sure gave us a scare,” he said, glancing at the golden who had apparently been rewarded with whatever had drawn him there in the first place.

Deciding his presence was more in the way here, he left the cleanup and consoling to Chief and Nessie. Gathering his catch from where he’d unceremoniously dropped it, he paused for a moment, looking back at the site of the whole ordeal. Had Chive been trying to get the raccoon’s food? Huffing, he went into the house, to put his fish with the rest of the food store. He thought about dropping a few next to the nursery, but he didn't know what the puppies liked to eat, and he honestly felt like he was invading their privacy whenever he went near it. Still, if the little scamps were hungry enough to steal morsels from vermin, they should probably eat something soon. He wanted to eat too, but he didn't dare take anything before he knew if the pups and Agnes had eaten.

SilverFlight SilverFlight m4ngy.mutt m4ngy.mutt Society of Strays Society of Strays
 
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-TRINKET-

Trinket
cowered, his ears pinned back under the weight of Ches's disapproving gaze. He hadn’t meant for Lumi to break into a coughing fit from laughing- he only wanted to play with his friend. Before he could dwell on his mistake, his demeanor shifted at the sound of Chive’s distant yelps. The sharp cries instantly caught his and the others' attention, prompting them to rush toward the source.

Trinket froze in shock as he reached the scene. Chive was hurt! Blood stained his neck, a vivid and terrifying sight. Lumi’s frantic barks filled the air, her panic stirring an overwhelming fear within Trinket. Could Chive really… die? “No… no, no, no!” Trinket whined, pacing back and forth in a frenzy. This couldn’t happen- not to Chive! They hadn’t even finished planning their next grand adventure together! As Lumi went to get help, Trinket hoped the magic Agnes was able to perform could save that of his and Lumi's friend..
 
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Agnes, having the medicine den all to herself now, had decided to fold away the thin layers of cloth both Trinket and Lumi used to use for sleeping. now that they were going to settle with Nessie, she had no reason to keep extra 'bedding' in here. However, once she nosed the tucked away blankets out the room for a striker to get later on, everything felt so empty. She'd soon enough figure out a way to have herbs growing in the den directly, but for current time, she stuck to some dried herbs nestled in a nearby cabinet. She was going to organize them, yet a blur of white and black spots bumped into her legs.

Agnes blinked, only registering the words "hurt" from Lumi's sentence. Another injury? The older one shook her head "Is it deep, or is it major? Any signs of spasming, or just a scratch?" Her eyes gave a pointed look at the pup, but she already knew waiting for an answer would just waste time. Besides, Lumi probably didn't understand her question. Agnes instead pushed open her the small door that covered her storage, and snatched a white herb. Yarrow, possibly known to be one of the best things for simple scratches, and preventing infection, but now worries filled her mind.

This is better than Calendula and Lavender but wasting it like this...

Well, it wasn't wasting if she put it to good use. Agnes' attention turned back to Lumi, keeping the herb in her jaws steady without letting a single petal or vital organ of the flower drop. "Show me the way. If we're quick enough, his blood won't be spilling like waterfalls, and he'd be fine." That might've shook Lumi up more, but scaring the pup would mean moving faster. The smaller dog had around leapt to their paws, and Agnes was just on the other's tail. Only in a few winding steps did the both of them reach the front porch-wind a bristling her own fur. There were a few barks being called out from somewhere, and she already could tell that was where Chive was. Her nose was made to decipher several kinds of scents, and the whiff of light blood streamed into her nostrils. The wound was definitely not major, as there would be an overflowing smell.

Just behind a bush, Agnes caught sight of Chief, Trinket and Nessie meeting up at the same spot where a patch of golden fur lay down. The skin along her spine crawled with a bit of anxiety, but when she noticed the fact the body was moving (breathing), she relaxed. A bit, that is. "Out of the way, I prefer to see the injured, not the caring." She dropped the Yarrow besides Chive to speak, eye balling the watchers. With one forepaw lifting to feel Chive's chest, Agnes' voice lowered.

"It's alright, just keep breathing steadily," Her tone did indeed differ to one that was soothing, but it wouldn't help until she actually helped the wound. Her tongue lapped gently on the scarlet patch that dribbled through Chive's pelt, in a way to figure out how long the bite went. Not big, but exceptional to hurt someone as frail as this pup. Agnes' licks stopped, only to go to chewing the herb she brought so it could be made into a pulp. Once done, she spat it out onto her pad and pressed it onto the scar that was bleeding. Out in the corner of her eye did she see Chief heading towards a racoon. Racoon? Through any animal, it was a racoon.

Agnes wrinkled her nose at the filthy creature, before pattering her paws onto Chive's fur. Since he was quite the mess in fur too, the poultice would have to stick onto his pelt while it healed the irritated skin. "It's alright now, the yarrow will be doing it's job. But I would advise for him to not be moving so much like the energetic thing Chive is. Laying down for rest would be best, because wandering around like..." She glanced around. "...how I assume he did, it clearly did not work out. His injury won't get infected since it's part of the yarrow's side effects to prevent it." Agnes stood on her legs, flicking her tail to Nessie. "You should watch over him for now, more closely too. Having Chive out of the house will mean he might make another mistake."

Interactions: SilverFlight SilverFlight , m4ngy.mutt m4ngy.mutt , Society of Strays Society of Strays

Albatross noticed how Walker's body suddenly shifted, words not finishing their own sentenced. The young dog perked up, not sure what was wrong until a new scent gland watered over her tongue. Something alluring, but also distant, Albatross drew her small ears backwards. A brownish-tan canine popped out of no where, greeting the Deputy as if they knew each other for a long time. She frowned, not enjoying the fact she was the only one confused. Walker had turned their muzzle over to her, and she frowned. "This is the one who can help find homes? Ridiculous if you ask me, Fawn's fur looks like her fur has been groomed every five times a day by some pale skins." None the less, she veered closer when Walker said 'important job'. That always drew her in.

Albatross slowly nodded, a restrained grunt coming out of her, and she glanced at Fawn. "Alright, butterscotch (new nickname), you follow me like Walker said! Lag behind and I wouldn't mind losing you, so try and get the hint." She didn't need to do much then bare her teeth a bit at the other, before steer away from the patrol. Heading back to the house would be of no problem, just going back the same path she and Walker went. With a look over her shoulder to see Fawn following, Albatross kept her paws forward with each spring. Setting off in a quick pace, the both of them probably lost only around five to ten minutes when trying to get back to the house. Slipping through the front, Albatross let Fawn take in her surroundings first. "Here, but not finished. I wonder where Ghost is."

The white little dog bounded over to the porch, hopping right inside he house. Albatross spotted Ches just around the corner, and called out. "Hey, Ches!" Her voice came out rather squeaky, but the message got across. "Visitor around here," She looked at Fawn, before questioning the male one. "Do you happen to know where Ghost ran off to? Fawn here was sent by Walker to stay...they seem to know her, I think."

Interactions: Rusty Angel Rusty Angel , Chaotic Poem Chaotic Poem
 
★ A Heartfelt Return ★



➤ A Familiar Welcome

A gentle nudge of greeting from Walker, and the tight knot of worry in Fawn’s chest unraveled. Shee was still the same—warm, steady, welcoming. Her posture shifted instantly, muscles relaxing as she let out a small breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

She relished in the nuzzle and then her body trembled with overwhelming joy as she covered her friend’s face and muzzle with frantic, eager licks, the sheer force of her affection making her rear wiggle wildly, her tiny nub of a tail wagging as fast as it could manage. Walker had always welcomed her, always made her feel like she belonged. That hadn’t changed, and the reassurance flooded through her like a wave.

She had made the right choice in coming back.

When she finally settled, Fawn was pleased to see the concern in Walker’s gaze. She cared—of course she did. She always had.

“You were right, that family didn’t work out so well.”

Her voice was quieter now, hesitant, guilt creeping in as she glanced down at herself. She suddenly felt small—her coat, once soft and well-groomed, was now tangled with grime and dried mud. Half-embarrassed, half-ashamed, she tried to shake the feeling off. It didn’t matter. She was home now.




➤ Albatross & The Journey Home

At the mention of the small white dog beside them, Fawn’s ears perked, and she looked down with a wide grin, her tail beginning to wag once again. She had been so caught up in seeing Walker that she had barely registered the presence of the little stranger.

Albatross, however, did not seem even remotely thrilled by Fawn’s arrival.

That was fine. Fawn didn’t mind at all—she was certain the little dog would warm up to her eventually. She always made friends in the end.

Even when Albatross spoke with abrasiveness, even when she was given an entirely new nickname, Fawn beamed. The name itself wasn’t what pleased her—it was what it meant. It was a sign of permanence, of belonging. Even if Albatross had meant it to mock, Fawn didn’t take it that way at all. She was being acknowledged. She was staying. She was home.

“Lead the way, Albi, I’m all yours,” Fawn said cheerfully, her voice light with genuine warmth.

Albatross took off in an instant, and despite the exhaustion creeping into her limbs, Fawn followed quickly. Panic clawed at the edges of her thoughts—what if she lost them? What if she was left behind again? She pushed herself forward, staying close, unwilling to let distance separate her from her pack again.

The familiar streets stretched around them, but they felt different now—foreign, unfamiliar, as though she had never walked them before. She had grown up being led through these neighborhoods, yet without Albatross, she would have been completely lost. The little puffball trotted ahead, confident, weaving through yards and sidewalks with ease, and Fawn kept her focus trained on her tiny guide.




➤ Home At Last

When they arrived, Fawn felt something deep inside her settle.

This was home.

The scent, the air, the quiet presence of familiarity—it was all still here. As they stepped inside, her eyes immediately landed on a brown dog with a curly coat, and suddenly, the shame of her own unkempt fur rushed back. She shrank slightly, self-conscious all over again. She would clean herself up as soon as possible—but first, she had to find Ghost.

For now, she held back, standing a mere mouse-length behind Albatross, ears slightly lowered. But as soon as she was mentioned, she stepped forward without hesitation, warmth radiating from her as she lowered her head and quickly licked the top of Albatross’s head.

“Thank you for bringing me back safely, Albi.”

It wasn’t just gratitude—it was sincerity, deep and unwavering. Whatever came next, whatever hurdles she would have to face, none of it mattered.

She was finally home.


 
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Bo watched Rogue retrieve the blanket with a nod of his large head. As they went about their way looking for items he watched Rogue out of the corner of his eye. Eventually he felt relaxed enough to let her leave his sight. It was Ghost's rush past him that made him react and follow in a heartbeat.
The apprentice was squaring off with the biggest, fattest rat Bo had ever seen.
He came to a halt just behind Ghost, and was also too far to help Rogue with his teeth, but, perhaps with words...

"Well, looks like you found a bit more than we were lookin' for." He tried to relax the situation with a casual tone. A rat wasn't going to kill a dog, even an inexperienced one, but infection or disease from a bite was a real threat. Bo had dealt with numerous rodents in his farm days, they could be dangerous, but most of them were predictable.

"Keep calm Rogue. The best weapons are the ones you don't have to use. Put your hackles up, give it the best growl you got. If that don't work, he'll come for your face. Avoid that, then use a paw to pin his head, then a bite to break the spine."

Bo watched intently, waiting to see how it would play out. However it did, Bo wasn't about to let the vermin go. Any critter that stood up to a dog was a danger to the pups in their territory. Better to have them all scared, or dead. "You got this." He reassured his apprentice.

Chaotic Poem Chaotic Poem Redrin Redrin
 




CHIVE
The raccoon's sharp fangs had broken through the supple skin of the pup's neck, drawing blood and more screams of pain. Chive came from a line of pedigree pooches, bred to be friendly, obedient, and mild mannered to appease to pale-skin audiences with children of their own. Chive himself therefore was genetically-wired for kindness, submission, and a desire to please. He retained the ability to track with his nose and would have been able to be a prolific bird-dog if given proper training, but even that didn't prepare him for instances such as these. There wasn't much in his DNA to tell him how to handle being attacked by a raccoon.
So the pup hollered for help, his oversized paws digging against the soft soil as he tried to escape the heavy beast that clung to his back.
It wasn't long before help arrived.
Chief, a dog that Chive hadn't interacted with much but knew by name and scent, was first on the scene. The pup couldn't have asked for a more efficient protector. Chief was quick to assess the situation and take care of it. The raccoon was no match for the much larger canine. Not that Chive paid much attention to the beating taking place just a few dog-lengths away from him. He was already reeling, seeking comfort and escape from the bully he'd found himself unluckily involved with. "Mama!" He cried out once more, and was pleased to find her comforting form and smell enveloping him. He could always count on her.
Before he could even raise up and shield himself beneath his mother's legs, another much smaller dog entered the scene. Lumi. Chive tried his best to rise up from where he'd been lying defeated in the shrubs, putting on as brave a front as possible despite the blood and tears that dampened his golden coat, and the way his entire frame was trembling with terror. The she-pup's tender licks of reassurance only added to the spinning of his small head. "I-I-I'm- I'm o-oka-ay-" He'd stuttered, unable to steady his voice despite his best intentions. Lumi dashed off to fetch the medic, much to Chive's relief. He didn't want her to see him in such a state and despite his fear, he still felt a pang of guilt for causing her any notion of grief.
Chive was greeted by the sanctuary of Nessie and leaned gratefully into her nurturing touch and licks. More dogs arrived on scene, Ches and Agnes, and Chive could hear Trinket's nervous whimpers from the lawn. He felt embarrassment combatting the feeling of fear inside himself, realizing just how many dogs were privy to his incident. He was reminded once again of how unfit for street life he was and how he still had so much to learn.
Agnes examined the pup carefully, and although stiff with ignominy, Chive was grateful for the consoling licks and nudges and the addition of the soothing medication she pressed to his gash. The pup pouted at the instruction for rest but said nothing, instead moving closer to Nessie's warmth and hiding his face against her bi-colored pelt. Maybe if he couldn't see the packmates, they couldn't see him either.







NESSIE
Chief had arrived to the scene moments before Nessie did and it was lucky he had too. Instead of having to avenge her son by beating up the varmint, Nessie could instead focus her attention immediately on the pup, leaving the vendetta-seeking to her male packmate. "Chive, my darling, what has happened? I let you out of my sight for one breath..." She tsked at him, inspecting him quickly but carefully. Her pink tongue soothed over his wounds, cleaning his crimson-stained fur and offering as much consolation as she possibly could as she listened to Chief explain what had happened. "What were you doing out here beyond the house? I've told you not to wander outside by yourself..." Nessie didn't need to wonder for long as Chief brought over the half-eaten pale-skin food and dropped it at her paws. Nessie sighed softly, knowing full well that food was her son's kryptonite. She would have to have a serious talk with him later on. As difficult as it was, Nessie forced herself to take a step back when the medic arrived, allowing Agnes to do her own more professional examination. The pit bull listened closely to the healer's words regarding Chive and felt her chest blossom with relief, knowing that he'd survive, but the positive emotion was short-lived. Guilt sunk it's poisonous talons into her chest. She'd let Chive down. She'd sworn to always be by his side to protect him and keep him safe. Sure, she knew she had to give him some space to grow into himself without her always helicoptering over him, but obviously she'd misjudged his readiness for such independence. Agnes was right. It was her fault that he'd gotten hurt. He was too soft for these streets. He needed protection. That was Nessie's purpose and she'd failed. She nodded her head to affirm Agnes' prescription. "Of course. Thank you." She spoke softly.
Regaining her position above Chive, she continued to groom and nuzzle him, feeling ashamed and ill-prepared. Maybe Chive would be better off under someone else's care. Nessie had lost everyone she'd ever cared for. Maybe everyone she loved was cursed.
Trying to ignore the painful thought, Nessie nuzzled her pup, encouraging him to get up so that he could be taken inside and begin his relaxation. She would have carried him, but his damaged scruff made it impossible. "Come here, my beloved, let's get you back inside where you will be safe." She picked up the scraps that had been so difficultly won and began carefully guiding the injured youth back towards the house.




Rusty Angel Rusty Angel
SilverFlight SilverFlight
CHUUYAS_HAT CHUUYAS_HAT
m4ngy.mutt m4ngy.mutt
 
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Rogue stood frozen, tail tucked, eyes wide with fear, the same small puppy who had once been found abandoned in the filth. She was surrounded by trash, mud, and decay, alone again in the dark. But then, a voice cut through her panic; deep, steady, and grounding. A voice that guided instead of judged. "You got this." Her mentor’s words wove through her mind like a lifeline, pulling her from the depths of terror. Panic would only make things worse. Rogue straightened, breathing deep.
Her father’s voice, long faded, resurfaced in her thoughts. "Give life a lot of bark and some biting if need be." But he had never told her how. When to bark? When to bite? He had spoken in riddles, leaving her to navigate survival on her own. Yet here, now, Bo had given her the answers her father never had.
A roar of instinct stirred inside her, rising like a flame catching wind. Fear cracked and fell away, leaving something new in its place, determination. Her hackles lifted, her lips curled, and her teeth bared in a warning that was no longer pretend. "You got this." Bo’s voice echoed in her chest, anchoring her. She let out a growl; low, deep, real. Not the playful growl of a pup mimicking battle, but the sound of a creature who knew what it meant to fight. The rat hesitated, its hissing breath pausing just for a moment. Then it struck.
A flash of claws, sharp and merciless. Rogue flinched, doubt creeping back in. Did she have it in her? The rat must have sensed her hesitation, it slashed again, quick and vicious, then coiled, ready to lunge. Rogue couldn’t freeze. She wouldn’t. Bo’s instructions snapped into place in her mind. Pin the head. Bite. Break the spine.
The rat leaped, teeth bared, yellowed fangs dripping with filth. Rogue launched to meet it, her body reacting before thought could hold her back. Her paws collided with its writhing form midair. It squirmed, screeched, and fought, but her jaws found its neck before it could twist free. Hot blood spilled into her mouth, sharp and rancid, and she nearly recoiled from the taste, but she didn’t let go. Not until the struggle beneath her paws went still.
Rogue released the body, breath shuddering from her chest, but she kept one paw pressed firmly against it, as if lifting it would shatter the fragile moment. Her heart pounded in her ears. She had done it. For the first time, Rogue understood. This wasn’t about empty words or riddles spoken in passing. Bo had given her more than guidance, he had given her a choice.
And she had made it.
She wasn’t just a burden.
She wasn’t just a pup lost in the muck.
She was a fighter.
 
Ghost watched as Rogue followed Bo’s instructions, though he kept his eyes locked on the rat, lips curled in a silent snarl. He didn’t move closer—Bo was right.Ghost 2.JPG Neither of them would have reached her in time to stop an infectious bite. But Rogue handled herself well, and Ghost felt a quiet sense of pride, not just in his friend’s skill as a mentor but in Rogue’s ability to listen and execute the task. He had chosen their mentor-novice pairing well.


Once Rogue dispatched the rat, Ghost padded toward a small trash heap nearby. A foul scent clung to the air, sharp and pungent, and as he nosed through the refuse, he found more than just scraps. Nestled within the pile was a hoard of infant rats—squirming, blind things no bigger than his paw.


A low growl rumbled from his chest. Rogue had handled the male, but rats lived in groups, and Ghost had no doubt the mothers were nearby. He barely had a moment to register their presence before movement caught his eye—twenty she-rats, their beady eyes glinting with aggression, creeping toward him.


Ghost took a slow step back, positioning himself between Bo and Rogue. Bo could handle himself, and Rogue had proven capable—but numbers changed everything. The rats hesitated at his growl, their small bodies tensing at the warning.


Then they charged.


“RUN!”


Ghost barked the command, shoving Rogue forward as they bolted. He didn’t need to look back—he could hear the rustling, the furious skittering of tiny claws against stone. But he knew the females wouldn’t chase far, not with their nest behind them.


Only when they reached his basket of food and pillows did
Ghost finally skid to a stop, ears flicking back as he listened. No pursuit. Good.

***
Ghost is in the ditch between the park and the forest.
 
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A twinge of sadness tugged at Walker when the spaniel mentioned the family not working out.

"I'm sorry," she said, feeling a bit guilty, herself as Fawn's demeanor fell. Despite her own feelings, she knew there were many dogs who placed a lot of faith in pale-skins. She could only imagine the pain and confusion that followed when it proved to be ill-placed. Ice pierced her heart. What had Fawn's new family done that led her back here in such a state?

She sighed, allowing Albatross' acceptance of the task to warm her again. She noted the Pomeranian's less-than-welcoming behavior towards Fawn, but it was the mark of a good scout to be cautious with a stranger. Hopefully, once she was taken to Ghost, he could diminish any tension the others might feel for Fawn's presence.

Turning away, she set off to finish the patrol. Now that she was alone, every part of her was on high alert as she bounded carefully through every area, taking particular caution when she reached the park. The smell of pale-skins reeked here, and there were always signs of recent activity. It would only get worse with the turn of the season. She shuddered at the thought. It worried her that they had this on one side and the neighborhoods bordering the other. What if it was only able matter of time before their home was found?

She shook herself, not allowing her worries to grow into dread. They were careful. They knew how to stay hidden. Everything would be alright.

Once she was out of the park, her fur, which she hadn't realized was on end, fell flat. Her muscles relaxed slightly, but even so, her job had yet to be finished. She continued towards the highway, sniffing and checking and marking where she needed to.

Finally reaching the point where the highway reached the neighborhood, she began to relax. Everything was in order. Their territory was free of intruders, and now all that was left was the journey home.

Running along the edge of the wood, she slowly picked up speed, eager to return to her packmates... then stopped. Her fur stood on end as she caught whiff of something that shouldn't have been there. Lowering her nose to the ground, she followed the scent, from the forest, deep into the neighborhood.

A low growl rose in the cream dog's throat. It ran all the way through, straight into the bustling city beyond. Ears flattened, she bore her teeth, snarling at their now gone intruders. They never came this far! The scent wasn't exactly fresh, but they had been here recently! Maybe even the previous night! What were they doing here?

Licking her lips, she traveled the edge of their border, making sure there were no other breeches into their home. Satisfied she couldn't find any, she turned, again towards the house, now more eager than ever to return to her pack. Why had they come here? What did this mean?

** Walker is running back home after leaving the neighborhood bordering the highway

At the sound of a squeaky voice calling his name, the chesapeake turned back, surprised to see a stranger standing beside his little fluffball of a packmate. Visitor?

He set his fish down, yet again, "I didn't know the pack allowed visitors."

Walking over to meet them, he touched his nose to the spaniel's, memorizing her scent before pulling back. He'd thought he heard Abatross' and Walker's voices when he was at the river. They must have just barely found her. She looked harmless enough. As disheveled as any stray, but he figured his fur hadn't been much better when he'd first arrived. Actually, beneath the grime, her's seemed like it might be suited for water, too.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Ches," he said, some of the suspicion leaving his eyes, "Well, Chester, but call me Ches."

Turning back to the Pomeranian he shook his head, "Sorry Albs. I just got back from the river myself," he jerked his head towards the front door, "The others might know where Ghost went, but I'd wait a bit before asking. They're dealing with a 'raccoon situation'."

**Ches is in the house trying to put his fish away

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