Post by yarrick on Aug 14, 2007 14:00:37 GMT -5
(I'm starting a new post with a different intro where the other left off. Time to break things up a bit)
The dark alleys of the port were a very dangerous place for lone strays and homeless humans. Though the packs avoided this area of town numerous gangs of both men and stray dogs resided here, which while generally not made of the most intelligent or well disciplined sort were enough to make anyone who didn’t know and wandered in alone pay for it.
Three of these said brutes were lying in wait for the next unfortunate stray to wander in the dark alleyway for easy pickin’s. All three were large brutes, a mix of a dozen or so species- unwanted pups from dogs of all different nationalities that passed through the port town.
The one in the center had a trim but muscular frame and a long pointed snout- there was a good deal of rotwiller in this one. Tough as nails and slightly smarter then the other two mutts (albeit not by much) he was the so called “leader” of their little gang.
The three of them lied in wait, picking at scraps as the Doberman mutt chewed on a large bone with his powerful jaws. His ears, perking up as he picks up a scent, something that appealed to him a lot more then the old crusty bone. Fresh Meat.
The Doberman mutt glanced to the other two, who were digging in the trash, one who got his dumb bulky head stuck in the side of a crate and growled
“Stop Messin around you two. We have… “Visitors”. Two of them. And one of them is carrying food….” The other two stopped scavenging, and after a short struggle the biggest oaf was able to clear his head from the crate he was stuck in with his powerful legs. The three of them were now all salivating. The larger of the three that just got his head unstuck opened his big floppy mouth “Let me crush them boss! I can take em!”
The Doberman mix snapped his jaws at the larger mutt ”Quiet you dumb oaf! They’ll hear you! We work as a team. Same as we always have. We pounce at once and sort out the remains later!” with that he crouched down behind a crate, motioning to the other two who did in turn. The larger one had to hide behind two crates stacked on top of each other because of his size.
The Doberman had of course only picked up the scent of the two mutts in front, Nene and Yarrick. He was too distracted by the smell of the fresh sausages to notice the scents of a wolfhound and possibly wolf behind them.
-------
Yarrick paused and glanced to Nene. The alleys were not always safe places but at least they avoided the attention of the main harbor in this way. He glanced back to the larger wolfhound trotting behind them with some comfort, however, then farther down the alley stopping momentarily sniffing the air.
He was not yet accustomed to the scents of the harbor, and especially not of the trash littering the alley to sort out any other distinct scents. They were also up wind which bothered him slightly, but he pressed forward with his other companions.
The dark alleys of the port were a very dangerous place for lone strays and homeless humans. Though the packs avoided this area of town numerous gangs of both men and stray dogs resided here, which while generally not made of the most intelligent or well disciplined sort were enough to make anyone who didn’t know and wandered in alone pay for it.
Three of these said brutes were lying in wait for the next unfortunate stray to wander in the dark alleyway for easy pickin’s. All three were large brutes, a mix of a dozen or so species- unwanted pups from dogs of all different nationalities that passed through the port town.
The one in the center had a trim but muscular frame and a long pointed snout- there was a good deal of rotwiller in this one. Tough as nails and slightly smarter then the other two mutts (albeit not by much) he was the so called “leader” of their little gang.
The three of them lied in wait, picking at scraps as the Doberman mutt chewed on a large bone with his powerful jaws. His ears, perking up as he picks up a scent, something that appealed to him a lot more then the old crusty bone. Fresh Meat.
The Doberman mutt glanced to the other two, who were digging in the trash, one who got his dumb bulky head stuck in the side of a crate and growled
“Stop Messin around you two. We have… “Visitors”. Two of them. And one of them is carrying food….” The other two stopped scavenging, and after a short struggle the biggest oaf was able to clear his head from the crate he was stuck in with his powerful legs. The three of them were now all salivating. The larger of the three that just got his head unstuck opened his big floppy mouth “Let me crush them boss! I can take em!”
The Doberman mix snapped his jaws at the larger mutt ”Quiet you dumb oaf! They’ll hear you! We work as a team. Same as we always have. We pounce at once and sort out the remains later!” with that he crouched down behind a crate, motioning to the other two who did in turn. The larger one had to hide behind two crates stacked on top of each other because of his size.
The Doberman had of course only picked up the scent of the two mutts in front, Nene and Yarrick. He was too distracted by the smell of the fresh sausages to notice the scents of a wolfhound and possibly wolf behind them.
-------
Yarrick paused and glanced to Nene. The alleys were not always safe places but at least they avoided the attention of the main harbor in this way. He glanced back to the larger wolfhound trotting behind them with some comfort, however, then farther down the alley stopping momentarily sniffing the air.
He was not yet accustomed to the scents of the harbor, and especially not of the trash littering the alley to sort out any other distinct scents. They were also up wind which bothered him slightly, but he pressed forward with his other companions.
