The Dog Days

[Maybe ♫]

A deep, rumbling snore escaped the maw of the steel-gray beast. After a long period of time where he hadn't gotten much sleep or had had much to eat, Darthyn had decided that it was time for a rest. His large, dirty form lay motionless atop a conveniently shaped boulder, and at his feet lay the carcass of a dead rabbit. All around his sleeping form, the forest seemed to buzz with life: birds all atwitter in the trees, rodents on the ground, collecting food and such for their little families.

His blood-stained maw twitched as he dreamed quite vividly of a pile of roast beef. But of course, it was only a dream. The life of a stray was not so easy. No heaping helpings of prime-cut tenderloin steak for them. They had to live off the land, either that or steal and forage near human nests. Risky business, that was.

Grumbling in his sleep, Darthyn turned over so that his belly faced the sky, which was obscured by the canopy of trees above him. Finally, the mighty alpha could get some shut-eye.

[moonlight]

A black and brown german shepard bolted through the forest close to his home. His red and white neckerchief flapped wildly as he made his way deeper and deeper into the forest.
He was well aware that the alpha of the strays was probably dwelling somewhere in here, as well as many other countless strays, but it didn't bother Bullet.

True, Bullet had a pair of loving owners, but recently they'd gone on holiday. This, in other situations, would seem perfectly normal, but Bullet's owners were an elderly couple, they weren't rich and they hadn't been on a holiday for many years, and although that would also be seen as normal; to have a break, when you hadn't had a break for many years, Bullet knew it was not. His owners and he were close, extremely close, and they would never leave without entrusting him to competent care. Now all that lurked around the house was the cat. A white and orange tabby cat that like nothing less than to annoy Bullet.

Besides, all their stuff was still at the house, who ever heard of a human going away without anything?
Snorting, he came to the conclusion that they probably just went for a walk and got lost, the human police should pick them off sooner or later, they always did.

When the police came back with his owners they would usually greet him with a 'Keep an eye on them next time, champ,' like it was actually his fault. And who the hell were they calling champ anyway?

Shaking the thoughts from his mind he continued through the forest, a small mouse dangling from his jaws. True, it wasn't exactly what he was used to, but with his owners lost he had learnt he would have to take care of himself for a while.

His brown optics spotted a dog sitting atop a boulder. Frowning, Bullet slowed to a stop, and approached the dog, who looked possibly part wolf or wild dog. He padded towards the boulder, wondering who he was.

Definatly a stray, but other than that...
He just looked like your average mongrel.