Post by Xing on Apr 24, 2007 17:22:49 GMT -5
Lost. The word rang through his head as he walked the neighborhood. Why did everything look the same here? Tan ears back against his head, the scarred dog looked at the neighborhood, his mismatched eyes flicking to where a group of children were playing with some black and white ball. He stopped and watched the one with the light colored hair kick it. The ball went sailing into the air... Right at the former fighting dog. Swiftly, he ducked, feeling the ball whizz over his head. A lucky dodge. However, the young humans had a new interest. The ball had rolled out into the street, past the large dog on the sidewalk. Their little beady eyes were gazing right at him. Uh oh. Thought the large dog. His ears flicked back, his eyes wide.
"PUPPY!"
They all seemed to scream at once. Xing didn't stand a chance. At once, he was being bombarded by little kids- from the age of five to nine. All wanted to pet him. He was forced to cower down, his eyes wide in fright. No, he didn't want to bite them- they were harmless. One little girl grabbed Xing by the tail, and began pulling hard. He yelped in shock, and whirled around, his eyes wide.
"Ow, stop, you furless...!" He began running. Sliding between two little nine-year-old boys, the poor stray began running for his life. He didn't mind humans. He just didn't like human pups- kids. They were worse than dog whelps. They didn't understand that he didn't like it when his tail was being pulled, or when his ears were yanked. They just... Didn't get the concept!
So, here the Kunming dog was running. His long, muscular legs covered much ground. He scented dogs, although some were pets that were behind fences. A few unfriendly barks kept the fighter at bay. He didn't enter any dog's turf. Although, he knew (or, well, he hoped) he was near the Limestone Street Legionnaire's grounds. He wanted to join them. And, well... So far, he wasn't having much luck. So far, he'd asked one psychotic looking Vizsla if he knew anything about the Legionnaires. He'd been given directions that had landed him to the local Walmart- which wasn't right. Second dog he'd passed had been some gruff looking Newfoundland, who had said that he didn't know what the heck Xing was talking about. The third dog had been some lovestruck shetland sheepdog who'd been too busy eyeing his "manly scars" to care to answer his question.
So far, he'd concluded that he was lost beyond all hope of ever figuring out where the heck he was. After making a block and turning down a street, Xing had decided to take a small rest. The battle-scarred Kunming dog ended up parking his butt under a tree, relaxing in the shade and out of the burning sun. There has to be a sensible dog around here who knows where I am. He thought, looking around with his brown and blue eye.
"PUPPY!"
They all seemed to scream at once. Xing didn't stand a chance. At once, he was being bombarded by little kids- from the age of five to nine. All wanted to pet him. He was forced to cower down, his eyes wide in fright. No, he didn't want to bite them- they were harmless. One little girl grabbed Xing by the tail, and began pulling hard. He yelped in shock, and whirled around, his eyes wide.
"Ow, stop, you furless...!" He began running. Sliding between two little nine-year-old boys, the poor stray began running for his life. He didn't mind humans. He just didn't like human pups- kids. They were worse than dog whelps. They didn't understand that he didn't like it when his tail was being pulled, or when his ears were yanked. They just... Didn't get the concept!
So, here the Kunming dog was running. His long, muscular legs covered much ground. He scented dogs, although some were pets that were behind fences. A few unfriendly barks kept the fighter at bay. He didn't enter any dog's turf. Although, he knew (or, well, he hoped) he was near the Limestone Street Legionnaire's grounds. He wanted to join them. And, well... So far, he wasn't having much luck. So far, he'd asked one psychotic looking Vizsla if he knew anything about the Legionnaires. He'd been given directions that had landed him to the local Walmart- which wasn't right. Second dog he'd passed had been some gruff looking Newfoundland, who had said that he didn't know what the heck Xing was talking about. The third dog had been some lovestruck shetland sheepdog who'd been too busy eyeing his "manly scars" to care to answer his question.
So far, he'd concluded that he was lost beyond all hope of ever figuring out where the heck he was. After making a block and turning down a street, Xing had decided to take a small rest. The battle-scarred Kunming dog ended up parking his butt under a tree, relaxing in the shade and out of the burning sun. There has to be a sensible dog around here who knows where I am. He thought, looking around with his brown and blue eye.