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Description

The sound of crickets filled the air as the sun began to fall behind the horizon. In its place, the moon took over, casting iridescent light over the darkened streets of Canidale. In the quiet rural neighborhood of Lakeview, one dog was stirring. While all was quiet in his house and his owners slept, he silently slipped out the doggy door and into their fenced back yard. Getting a running start, he ran straight toward the wooden privacy fence and leapt. He caught onto the top and wiggled and scratched up the rest of the way, only to jump down the other side. Granted the fence was only four feet high, but for the small male, it still felt like a triumph every time he was able to get over it.

Thatcher sauntered with purpose toward the alleyway like he always visited this time of night. It was an out of sight spot with one entrance from the street on one end and on the other, a seven foot chicken wire fence. Bags of trash and dumpsters lined the walls. When he made it to his destination, he began to pry off his collar. Sometimes, if he got lucky, he could hook the clip with one of his claws and pop it right off, but his owners had just trimmed his nails about a week ago. The blunt stubs were useless to him now. Luckily, he had a thin head and was able to slip it off with a few grunts. Once it was off, he gingerly picked it up between his jaws and looked around for a safe place to hide it. He didn’t want to throw it away, but he always had to come up with a clever way to keep it from getting taken. In the few years he had been owned, this was his tenth collar. He figured his owners would give up someday, but they just kept buying him new ones or asking their other dog friends for their old ones. It never crossed his mind to just stop running away. Okay, well maybe it did a few times. But he kept telling himself that he was a real stray, and real strays didn’t care about collars.

As he searched for a place to hide the contraption, rustling from the fenced end of the alley caught his attention. Another dog was entering through the broken corner of the chicken wire. Quickly, Thatcher pushed the collar underneath one of the smelly wheeled dumpsters and jumped away from it, trying to look as nonchalant as he could. When the other dog came into view, he nearly fainted. It was River, the stray leader. Her bi-colored eyes were looking straight at him and she seemed to be coming right for him. He swallowed hard and tucked in his tail and lowered his head, out of fear. She glared at him and then turned to one of the piles of trash, obviously here for some food.
Thatcher let out the briefest sighs of relief and relaxed a little. So she hadn’t seen the collar. Good, good. Now he could go about his usual business. He skirted around behind her, giving her a wide berth, and headed toward the hole in the fence. A small breeze made him shudder slightly; winter was on its way and the thin coated male would have to stay indoors a lot more.

”Hey.” The gravelly voice surprised him, and this time he did jump. It was harsh and demanding. He stopped immediately, knowing that the voice had come from River. The breeze had blown his scent right toward her, and she could tell that he had been hanging around with humans. As he turned to her, her glare was heavy and he shrunk lower, not meeting her intimidating gaze. She trotted up to him and breathed in another whiff of air. Yes, definitely human scent. Her muzzle wrinkled as she looked down at the groveling male.

”Who are you?” She demanded. ”You wreak of human.” She spat the last word, disgusted that any dog would smell like that. At first Thatcher couldn’t answer. He was so afraid that she would attack him. Usually Thatcher would face the other dog head on, refusing to have any loyalties to humans at all, but this was River. This was the leader of the strays, she had power, authority; she knew when she was being lied to and she wasn’t against cruel punishment. He swallowed again and tried meeting her gaze.

”I’m Thatcher, ma’am, and I, uh..” he stuttered. Her glare thickened and her eyes became slits as she pinned back her ears, obviously not happy with his slowness. ”Some humans tried to catch me earlier.” His statement sounded more like a question and River caught it. A sly smile spread across her lips.

”Did they? Well it must’ve been some chase, because you smell a lot like one of those pets.” Her last word came out as a snarl. Thatcher gulped. He couldn’t lie to her, she would know and if he kept lying, she would beat the truth out of him.

”I ran away!” He blurted suddenly. ”I was caught by the dog catcher and some humans adopted me but I ran away, okay? I’m a stray! That’s what I am, and that’s what I’ll always be! A stray! I’m a stray!” His voice just got louder as he kept rambling. ”Please, don’t tell anyone! My friends can’t know! They’ll think of me as one of them!” By them, he meant a pet.

”QUIET!” River shouted, finally ending his spiel. He obediently shut up and sank even lower. She stared at him for a moment, mulling over what he had said. He smelled a lot like humans, so either he was lying outright or he was bending the truth.

”Well,” she said finally. Thatcher waited with baited breath for her next words. ”I’m not sure I can keep my mouth shut with that stench of yours hanging around. Your stupid little friends will be the least of your worries if you don’t do something about it. And soon.” With one final glare, she turned and promptly trotted out of the alley and into the street. Thatcher thought he might wet himself and realized that he was shaking form the encounter. He stopped and mentally scolded himself. He had to be sneakier in the future, otherwise River would hold this over him forever.

ahh they look so much bigger than the trash can D: oh well just pretend they're far away ugh
oh and bricks again. tried something different with these and i like them better than the last ones xD

All art & characters © MatrixPotato

Description

The sound of crickets filled the air as the sun began to fall behind the horizon. In its place, the moon took over, casting iridescent light over the darkened streets of Canidale. In the quiet rural neighborhood of Lakeview, one dog was stirring. While all was quiet in his house and his owners slept, he silently slipped out the doggy door and into their fenced back yard. Getting a running start, he ran straight toward the wooden privacy fence and leapt. He caught onto the top and wiggled and scratched up the rest of the way, only to jump down the other side. Granted the fence was only four feet high, but for the small male, it still felt like a triumph every time he was able to get over it.

Thatcher sauntered with purpose toward the alleyway like he always visited this time of night. It was an out of sight spot with one entrance from the street on one end and on the other, a seven foot chicken wire fence. Bags of trash and dumpsters lined the walls. When he made it to his destination, he began to pry off his collar. Sometimes, if he got lucky, he could hook the clip with one of his claws and pop it right off, but his owners had just trimmed his nails about a week ago. The blunt stubs were useless to him now. Luckily, he had a thin head and was able to slip it off with a few grunts. Once it was off, he gingerly picked it up between his jaws and looked around for a safe place to hide it. He didn’t want to throw it away, but he always had to come up with a clever way to keep it from getting taken. In the few years he had been owned, this was his tenth collar. He figured his owners would give up someday, but they just kept buying him new ones or asking their other dog friends for their old ones. It never crossed his mind to just stop running away. Okay, well maybe it did a few times. But he kept telling himself that he was a real stray, and real strays didn’t care about collars.

As he searched for a place to hide the contraption, rustling from the fenced end of the alley caught his attention. Another dog was entering through the broken corner of the chicken wire. Quickly, Thatcher pushed the collar underneath one of the smelly wheeled dumpsters and jumped away from it, trying to look as nonchalant as he could. When the other dog came into view, he nearly fainted. It was River, the stray leader. Her bi-colored eyes were looking straight at him and she seemed to be coming right for him. He swallowed hard and tucked in his tail and lowered his head, out of fear. She glared at him and then turned to one of the piles of trash, obviously here for some food.
Thatcher let out the briefest sighs of relief and relaxed a little. So she hadn’t seen the collar. Good, good. Now he could go about his usual business. He skirted around behind her, giving her a wide berth, and headed toward the hole in the fence. A small breeze made him shudder slightly; winter was on its way and the thin coated male would have to stay indoors a lot more.

”Hey.” The gravelly voice surprised him, and this time he did jump. It was harsh and demanding. He stopped immediately, knowing that the voice had come from River. The breeze had blown his scent right toward her, and she could tell that he had been hanging around with humans. As he turned to her, her glare was heavy and he shrunk lower, not meeting her intimidating gaze. She trotted up to him and breathed in another whiff of air. Yes, definitely human scent. Her muzzle wrinkled as she looked down at the groveling male.

”Who are you?” She demanded. ”You wreak of human.” She spat the last word, disgusted that any dog would smell like that. At first Thatcher couldn’t answer. He was so afraid that she would attack him. Usually Thatcher would face the other dog head on, refusing to have any loyalties to humans at all, but this was River. This was the leader of the strays, she had power, authority; she knew when she was being lied to and she wasn’t against cruel punishment. He swallowed again and tried meeting her gaze.

”I’m Thatcher, ma’am, and I, uh..” he stuttered. Her glare thickened and her eyes became slits as she pinned back her ears, obviously not happy with his slowness. ”Some humans tried to catch me earlier.” His statement sounded more like a question and River caught it. A sly smile spread across her lips.

”Did they? Well it must’ve been some chase, because you smell a lot like one of those pets.” Her last word came out as a snarl. Thatcher gulped. He couldn’t lie to her, she would know and if he kept lying, she would beat the truth out of him.

”I ran away!” He blurted suddenly. ”I was caught by the dog catcher and some humans adopted me but I ran away, okay? I’m a stray! That’s what I am, and that’s what I’ll always be! A stray! I’m a stray!” His voice just got louder as he kept rambling. ”Please, don’t tell anyone! My friends can’t know! They’ll think of me as one of them!” By them, he meant a pet.

”QUIET!” River shouted, finally ending his spiel. He obediently shut up and sank even lower. She stared at him for a moment, mulling over what he had said. He smelled a lot like humans, so either he was lying outright or he was bending the truth.

”Well,” she said finally. Thatcher waited with baited breath for her next words. ”I’m not sure I can keep my mouth shut with that stench of yours hanging around. Your stupid little friends will be the least of your worries if you don’t do something about it. And soon.” With one final glare, she turned and promptly trotted out of the alley and into the street. Thatcher thought he might wet himself and realized that he was shaking form the encounter. He stopped and mentally scolded himself. He had to be sneakier in the future, otherwise River would hold this over him forever.

ahh they look so much bigger than the trash can D: oh well just pretend they're far away ugh
oh and bricks again. tried something different with these and i like them better than the last ones xD

All art & characters © MatrixPotato