|
Post by extremity on Aug 4, 2008 15:23:40 GMT -5
extreme [/center][/font] Keeping her existance wasn't helping Extreme's temper. Her uncontrollable urge to attack anything smaller and weaker than she was not helpful when attempting to join a pack. She had attacked and killed an elder sibling when she was a mere eight weeks old, the elder sibling a year old. Unable to keep from injuring younger, smaller, weaker canines usually kept Extreme out of packs. Now, she had heard that Darthyn's right paw dog was a long-haired Chihuahua named Rico, she had tried to restrain herself.
It was hard though; to keep herself from hurting others. It was in her liniage. English Bull Terriers had been bred for fighting, and even after centuries, they still could be vicious and malicious. Of course, there were a select few that had been trained to be kind, loving housepets. Ex wasn't one of them. As she made her way into the territory, she took a short break, just long enough to lick a wound on her left shoulder from an earlier fight, the wound had stopped bleeding, it wasn't causing her any pain, but dirt from the forest was invading the open wound. She could smell the strange smells as she entered the territory, looking around for the alpha.
[/size][/font]
|
|
|
Post by Noodle! on Aug 4, 2008 23:20:42 GMT -5
Rico hadn’t been doing much in the way of accepting dogs into the pack lately. In fact, he hadn’t been doing much of anything lately. A lot of the bitches in the pack were having pups and he took it upon himself to check in on them, making sure they were comfortable and kept in high spirits. Meanwhile, he’d also been looking up on the streets of Harlow. Word was, humans were gone. All of them, not a few. Either some great exodus called them elsewhere or they had flat out disappeared. He could still hear the screams of housepets that were trapped indoors; slowly starving and wasting away while there was nothing anyone else could do to help them. A shiver went down his spine as he stood from his place in the nesting hollow. Stretching a back leg, the small dog smiled. He had that small dog complex, you know, where he thinks he’s a Rottweiler and could probably convincingly become one without much of any stress or mishap.
A scent rose to his nostrils and his maw dipped in and out of the air above his head as he tested it. A new female had found her way into the territory, oh joy! The little Latino dog loved accepting, or politely declining females into the pack. It was one of his favorite pastimes. He puffed out his chest and galloped like some magnifcant horse out to the area where all new strays tended to go. And there he saw her. She was larger than he, but not nearly as big as some he’d encountered in his stay as Darthyn’s ally. A bull terrier, it seemed, and she held an air of superiority and aggression. Pretty little thing, he thought. He maneuvered himself into the lodge, up onto the old couch and through the window. On the ledge a plank of wood made a small bridge over to an empty oil drum. This was his perch (obviously, he’s done this before.) Standing upon that tin can of sorts, the small dog looked sternly down on the bitch
What business have you here, senorita? As earlier stated, as serious as Rico tried to be, he never really succeeded. His thick accent always threw off any attempt at such.
|
|
|
Post by extremity on Aug 5, 2008 11:40:38 GMT -5
Extreme [/color][/size][/center] Dying to break out, Ready to freak out Extreme caught the scent of another coming her way, apparently the dog was coming quite quickly too, because before she knew it, she saw a small brown and white Chihuahua strutting into the clearing. He acted as if he was a high-matnience horse piaffeing his way to the top. With the dull, constant sting of the wound on her shoulder, she stretched her left fore leg, and the dull stinging stopped for a moment. How will they take me? Will they accept my membership or tell me to get lost? Quite contriversial topics to Ex right now.
Attempting to hold back a ruckus of laughter at the Chihuahua, Extreme bowed her head slightly and looked up a the dog. Watching Rico jump onto the couch cushions and then across his small bridge, and to his little perch was almost as amusing as thinking that he was Darthyn's right paw dog. Yes, she had an aura of superiority and vengence, but what 'bull' breed didn't? From Staffordshires to Pit Bulls, they all had the temper to become a cold-blooded killer. As Rico spoke, she noticed the Latino accent in his words. Perhaps this would be easier than expected, when Extreme was a pup, there was an Afgahn Hound that lived next door that had spent years in Spain. The Hound was quite easy to flatter. "Hello, there. I have come to ask permission to join Darthryn's pack, may I speak to whomever I need to?" Okay, so the words weren't Extreme's usual. She was attempting to make herself a more-approachable bitch. It wasn't easy.
|
|