A little bit older, none the wiser....[Any]

[Squeeji]

It had been his third scrap today, Will was getting better, bigger, stronger, he wasn't the youngest pup anymore, he was growing into a handsome adolescent. The fights were getting easier for his age, when once it was hard to go up against a pup six months his elder, it was now getting harder to throw anything at him that was as old as he and as big. They started throwing him at the new pups now.

The pup gulped as the third fight was some mutt, a soft skinned little female, not a scar on her. She didn't have a chance in the world. Will knew what he had to do, he didn't have to think about it. In fact, he preferred not to. It made it easier to do what he had to, which of course was the simple task of defeating, if not killing this pup.

The blond terrier leapt forward, nipping at her at first, getting her scared, he could smell it. And he loved that. His hackles raised, as he jumped forward again, this time drawing a little blood. The other pup was mortified, frozen in time. Will's brows furrowed, this wasn't right, this wasn't good. His master was telling him to go in and finish her, but she wasn't doing anything.

"FIGHT ME." He growled and barked, snapping at her again. Will didn't want to kill her without a fight, it was against that little shred of goodness within him. He danced around her, avoiding the inevitable, before his master poked him with the electric prod.

It sent a wave of nausea and pain through his body, he sorely had no choice. He lunged forward and snapped her neck painlessly, it was the least he could do, though it displeased his master, who hit him with the prod again, and again, until the whole world faded into nothingness.

*****

Will woke up nuzzled in the Marketstreet garbage, curled up tightly in a ball, his body was still numb and tingly, he apparently did throw up from the prod. He didn't get up, he didn't move.

He kept thinking about that poor pup in the ring, the one that froze. She had been better off than he...she was at least free now. And for that he was pleased for her, though he wished desperately that it wasn't him that had freed her.

This is isn't fair, he thought, licking his paw gingerly, didn't anyone else notice they were slaves? Didn't anyone care? He looked off into the horizon, where the gate was open...always open invitingly open...but dangerous to think of. If he went that route he'd die...but if he didn't someday, he'd just die in the ring.

He hated himself for being such a coward. He just sat there and stewed, every so often nodding as some of the other slave dogs congratulated him for doing so well today in the ring...

Fools. They didn't know anything.

[Ceridell]

*It crept, closer and closer. It's presence, like a sickening shadow it stalked her everywhere she went. It reflected in everyone's eyes, every sound, every scent. Like an unkind red sun, it began to rise in front of her...*

*Fate is such a cruel mistress*

*Jezabelle made her way away from the kennels, eyes wide, jaws slathering, and in a panic. Slowly but surely she realized the fate layed out in front of her. Jez used to be the talk of all the males, nothing but beauty with her wonderful pelt and gorgous body. Now, she was a gorgon with scratchy, undernourished fur, wretched scares, and almost only one ear. She used to be a prized fighter. "The Wasp" they called her. She would fly into the ring and strick with such speed that her victem would not know what to do. Thank's to the scars of battle, she had slowed, and was doing nothing but getting worse. She'd lost a lot of fights lately, and the kennel masters were using her less and less. No...NO! She could NOT be trash! She couldn't be a punching bag, the joke of so many others! No...no ..no...god no...Her breathing became so heavy that it hurt cheast. Jez though she was far enough away. She scurried into an upturned and empty trashcan...*

*And cried*

*The washed up had finished crying about her lost looks, her lost talent. This reality check had hit her hard in the face. Death. It was hers, and it wasn't far. Either as bait in the ring, or lack of feeding, or the torment of others..oh, everything had a new light on it! All the times she had harrased the punching bags, especaily Finnagan...Jez let out a little snarl. That wretch was the one that predicted her downfall. The stupid beat up piece of trash knew that she would be reduced to this quicker than she did...Damn...irony sucked...*

*Almost in hysterics now, Jezabelles eyes were blinded with tears as she tried to slience her sobs. The resulting sound of unearthly heaving as the poor beast barely got enough air to breathe.*

[Squeeji]

Dozing in the lull of the filth he was sitting in, Will only awoke to the sound of crying, thick sobbing sound...female? Maybe a pup. The blond terrier blinked and peered around. Somebody must have gotten messed up at the last fight. He was about to roll over and forget about it, but the sound was maddening, he just couldn't leave it be.

Getting up to his feet in slow awkward and slightly painful movements, the pup shook himself and stretched, yawning powerfully bad. Will didn't often check up on every little yelp, whine and cry he heard, or else he'd never sleep...besides, those hurt that badly were usually just thrown in the dumpster alive til time sealed their fate.

He plodded along, finding a red and black female huffling and puffing...He sat down, silent, his head cocked, she was still alive, and there were no new injuries on her person. Will didn't get it, why would anyone be crying here? If it weren't for their immediate death? He himself hadn't cried since he was a young whelp...being readied for training.