The Magic of Dawn [Open]

[»Rie]

A pale waxing moon hung in the sky; late to set as the days grew were long, and the nights short. The sun was just beginning to break over the horizon and the far flung reaches of the sky were colored the pale grays, pinks, and golds of dawn. Dew drops hung on the long strands of tough grass that pressed up through the tough rocky ground. Little pools of water sparkled in the growing radiance like diamonds. Somewhere a robin piped a welcome to the glowing orb as more or it peeked over the horizon. A silence hung low and calm over the world, encompassing everything in a sweet peace; like a mother wrapping a blanket around a child's shoulders.

The soft sound of paws treading quietly broke the near silence, though the low sound could hardly have been called disturbing; the tempo of the steps alluded to a graceful four footed creature. Those steps pattered along the rough ground, moving toward the lip of the gorge and within moments a figure crested the edge, haloed by the rising glow from the morning sun. Dew drops had dampened the thick silky fur of his coat, darkening the sunburst fire of his patchy, broken red and russet markings into a dark rich mahogany, and the darker patches looked almost black, The mixture of fair white glowed despite a patina of travel dirt worn. His features were cast in shadow as he lowered his head, peering into the peach cast world of the gorge. The rocks seemed to warm even as he watched, the evaporating dew creating a humid atmosphere.

His paw pads gripped the rough texture of the rocks he stood on, a few stray sprigs of sharp edged grass swayed to his left as a sweet breeze brought the scents of water, and damp rock to his quivering nostrils. Large alert ears flickered faintly surveying the distant rising song of a robin, and the low cheerful twittering of a flock of sparrows; somewhere, a squirrel scolded. Mother Earth thrummed with life as a new, fresh day began. Drum, after quietly surveying the distant bottom of the gorge, lifted his head pointing his slim muzzle toward the sky his fathomless russet eyes taking in the slow lightening of the sky. Dawn, he felt, was one of those few times when life seemed to both stand still and rush forward; a time of magic.

His gaze shifted slightly, watching a puffy white wisp bloom from thin air, rolling in on itself and expanding to become a faint cloud against a background of rose and butter gold. The moon was pale as a pearl against the lightning sky as it continued it's journey toward the horizon, and the sun lifted with slow power to take it's place; the two seeming to chase one another across the sky, near yet so far apart.

Drum gave a soft quiet sound of amusement at his own whimsy, and thought himself to be thinking oddly romantically at the moment. Silly dog, he chided himself. Head on the ground with your paws lest you walk off a cliff! Glancing down at the drop off he lingered on, Drum allowed a tiny smile to part his jaws. Walk off a cliff indeed!

[» cyanide]

L O K I

As the immaculate beauty of the just rising sun painted the once white spackled onyx sky hues of pink to the finest gold, a large brute ranging from black to tan trotted aimlessly nose to the ground; around this wonderful gorge he’d set paw in for the first time. This wasn’t his normal scene, he was a strict pavement pooch; one to walk the streets filled with hustlers and whores; while the dogs around him backed into their junky yards, heads bowed in a serene form of street respect. He wasn’t the king of the ring for nothing! He had to earn his name and street cred. just like every other dog alive, only to have it ripped from his paws as it started to ripen. It was like having a grand tree that took days and days to care for years and years to only see one fruit, and as that fruit began to grow some bird took a shit on it and then gobbled it up for breakfast. Wasted, years and years wasted to have your dream ripped from your paws; or hands.

This male, obviously a bit full of himself, wandered randomly around the depths of the gorge, stepping over cracks in the semi-flat rock and listening to the harmony played out by his nails as they clicked against the stone, he almost intentionally made a short rhythm at first; click, click, stop, click, stop, click, click, stop, and so on. Finally the large Ovtcharka stopped as he reached a crystal pool of water; the scent radiating from the puddle was like no water he’s ever smelt! That was either very bad or good, meaning it was either stagnant or poisoned or good; it was and would be the best water he’d ever touched tongue too.

The large male pondered this thought silently at his predicament his mind wandered completely and he slowly bent his neck and legs a tad to lap up this possibly unsafe pool, as he continued to drink his lips curved smoothly into a wicked smile though he meant it in a good way; this wasn’t stagnant or poisoned, it was delicious. At that note his brown eyes flicked into the pool watching random minnows flit their way around their home which was being disrupted by a pink rag from hell, he couldn’t help but chuckle softly when he heard soft clicking somewhere above him. Had he entered stray territory and didn’t know it? And in turn he’d pay with a brutal beat down? Psh; yea right, bring it mutts. he couldn’t help that his thoughts gathered over his wild side turning a wonderful morning into an imaginary bid for survival.

His dark brown eyes skimmed over the top of the cliff surrounding him and noticed a tiny silhouette of a dog on one lip of the ridge; he couldn’t help himself as a small growl turned to a chuckle as this dog seemed surprisingly god like- standing there with that thick glow about him, encasing his features in a shadow.

Thankfully, a slight breeze stirred; blowing the grasses beside him in his favor; he caught the onlooker’s scent with ease and allowed a small growl of disapproval to form on his acidic lips. He wanted to bellow out some remark to the brute but he doubted he’d hear the actual words in his unique deep, husky tone.

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[»Rie]

A movement of a darker colored image shifting across the pallor of the gorge bottom caught Drum's attention, and the canine turned his snout slightly his solemn russet eyes narrowing to take in the figure below. He had the advantage of the rising sun being at his back, casting the spirit dog in silhouette while the other canine was open to Drum's perusal. The other dog was a dark, long haired breed. Built in vaguely stocky lines from what little detail Drum could make out; which, honestly, wasn't very much. There was to much empty space between the pair. The patchy dog watched as the other canine strutted along, and strut they certainly did! Drum could gather from watching the way the dark canine moved that they were rather confident; if not arrogant. The spirit dog gave a low sigh, just a puff of air through a slightly parted muzzle, "Confidence is a must, but in arrogance do not trust." he murmured, then tipped his head to the side as though slightly surprised that he'd spoken aloud.

Turning his head he glanced at the rising sun for a few moments, blinking russet eyes against the brightness of the golden light, then the dog on the ridge seemed to come to a decision, and backed away from the edge. Drum paced along the edge of the gorge searching for a way down, it would be best to approach this other canine while he had the chance, he supposed. It was always worth meeting someone when in a new area, and Drum had just arrived here. If there were dogs around that usually meant people, and people left out edibles. Don't get him wrong, Drum was working on the hunting thing but he'd only just left behind the humans for this life of lonely nights... The young dog with an old soul was still learning about being a stray. He'd been on his on for about three months now, long enough for his white fur to yellow a bit with grime; though the red, deep brown, and russet of his patchy markings still gleamed like a tumble of fall.

Finally a change in the edge caught the canine's attention, and drum discovered a precarious sloping path. Really, it was less a path than a fall of loose rock flattened into a resemblance of a downward trail. Drum stood at the top of it, looking down the steep slant, his head tilted and his large alert ears perked further forward than usual; he looked like a fox kit examining a grass hopper. Sighing in resignation Drum took that first step forward and immediately felt loose scree trickling away from the pressure his paw exerted on it. Swiveling his eyes skyward Drum absently hoped he'd make it out of this intact. Another paw, and the trickle of dirt and loose rock grew larger. Pausing, the dog with the patched coat seemed to hold his breath feeling his heart thud in his rib cage for several seconds, then, he started forward again: Drum was not without courage, merely cautious.

"Danger scorned, another one to mourn." He mused absently, his lips turning into a faint smile as he spouted off another proverb like saying. The Old Man he'd lived with had, had a habit of talking to himself, and Drum seemed to have picked it up.

The spirit dog made it about half way down the steep slope before he made a misstep, his paw landed on a rock that was only loosely held in place by the fine grained soil, and it immediately slanted downward causing Drum to loose his balance and careen forward. With a yelp Drum was tumbling tail over tea-kettle down the rest of the slope sending a cloud of dust into the air, and shower of rock and debris ahead of him. When the soft rumble of shifting earth settled and the dust cleared thanks to a soft breeze Drum was laying, strewn haphazardly among the mess, rocks and small piles of dirt criss-crossing his body, and one of his forepaws hooked under his chest a little awkwardly.

Giving full throat to a low toned doggy groan he pushed himself up, giving a soft whine as weight on the one fore leg proved it was a bit tender. Silly dog! Look what you've done to yourself this time! Were you born with none of the grace of your ancestors? he scolded himself mentally, then answered aloud with, "I think mother stole all the genes for it." Pushing himself to all fours from the awkward sitting position he'd been in he shook his lengthy coat free of dust, sending up a secondary dust cloud; then, favoring one fore paw, Drum meandered calmly over toward the dark canine from before. Nodding his head in frank greeting he murmured, "Good day to you. A moment, if you will, while I lay the dust in my throat?"

Giving the unknown dog, a bit of space Drum shuffled around to the opposite side of the pool, sniffing at it lightly and catch no scent of stagnation; the site of small fish within assuring him of a lack of poison. His tongue flickered out, drawing in several gulps of water to sooth a parched throat.

[» cyanide]

L O K I

The large Caucasian Ovtcharka gently placed his two massive paws out, feeling the soft tickle of new grass poking up from between the rock cavern’s cracks tickling between his weathered pad he leaned back, stretching out his body with a small groan. After successfully stretching backwards he slowly moved forward a bit, picking each back leg up individually to stretch them to his own satisfaction. As he groggily pawed around the long tendrils of plants, breaking through the newly transported dirt, and up in a bid for survival where they all blissfully seemed to reach for the golden orb floating in the low portion of the eastern sky.

Being the large and intimidating dog that he was he had way too much free time on his paws; resulting in deep almost philosophical thoughts. Thoughts about anything really from how the sunset South of due East in the summer and why it did that to why was all of mankind here on Earth? Though he had a conclusion of why humans inhabited Earth and called themselves the most ‘complex’ creatures alive. To take those loyal to them; the animals they deemed Man’s best friend and train them to be cold-hearted killers, then eventually pit them against each other in a cheap run down building and gain money, other dogs, drugs, and or women from their winning animals.

Deep russet eyes glanced over where the sun was rising, though no dog sized shadow interrupted the rays anymore. Did that mutt leave at the sight of Loki? Leisurely his dark orbs glanced over the lip of the ridge, doing a complete surveillance of the ridge’s edge looking for that dog that had just up and disappeared while he stretched his massive body out.

Loki’s dry black nose trembled softly as a cool breeze blew the dog’s scent into the gorge, his neck extended nose held high in the air as he attempted to grasp that scent. Finally he did; he sorted through the information and quickly interpreted the scent. So this wanderer didn’t reek of humans, wasn’t and isn’t ever going to be in heat, so it was stray male. Sighing he watched the male as he found a pathway, or what he thought was a pathway and skillfully started easing down the cliff-like slope.

He couldn’t help but be in slight awe that he would make it a quarter of the way down with out a single tumble. Oh, but Loki thought too quickly, as soon as he uttered the words inside of himself the brute stepped on a rock that must not have been embedded in the side of the cliff and tumbled down sending rocks skittering over the surface towards Loki.

A deep chuckle emitted from Loki’s closed jaws as he silently put his foot on the rock that had caused that giant avalanche. As the dog slowly got up Loki noticed he didn’t know what to say he hadn’t thought of anything to say to him because honestly he doubted he would make it down the slope and to his paws in one complete piece, once again he thought wrong. The grimy brute limped softly to his puddle and lapped from it. Loki, bored with this male already opened his jaws and allowed his tongue to gently curl out, ending his yawn with a high-pitched whine.

So what did this hear male know how to do? Could he do any tricks like fall down a cliff and come out alive? He already proved that he could be a disaster magnet.

He couldn’t help but stare dumbfounded at the male; he’d just fallen from a cliff for god sakes, and now he was the one cracking jokes? It was rather stupid, there was a soft slope near the pool of water where all the puddles were destined for once they got a bit larger. Loki’s massive frame plopped down and he gave off a soft gruff,

“Gawd damn it dawg, could you get any more god damn lucky?” He commented his voice painstakingly gruff.
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[»Rie]

A pale snout lifted from the water slowly a few stray droplets trickling down the underside of his chin to drip off and create a few expanding ripples on the surface of the pool, and that solemn serious gaze focused on the dark male across from him. Russet eyes flickering over the dark smooth coat for a moment before clashing head on with the opposing gaze; large alert ears tilting in a motion that almost seemed like a shrug, "Luck is but a coincidence going right for us, my friend." Drum replied quietly, his distant eyes seeming to stare somewhere toward the horizon even as he stared at the other dog.

The wind stirred his lengthy coat, and his slim muzzle quivered slightly as he took in the scents it brought. Lifting his head up slowly Drum turned his gaze toward the sky again, watching a few wispy clouds drifted lazily across the now periwinkle expanse. He supposed that his levity on the matter of his 'near death' could be seen as stupidity, to naivety; but for Drum he was just accepting his folly with dignity. He had accepted he would die eventually at an early point in life, and new that when the time came death would take him whether he was prepared or not. While this knowledge did not make him heedlessly reckless, it kept him calm despite the odds. Some might view such blandness as a lack of emotion, but that was untrue: As they say 'Still waters run deep.'

Drum inhaled deep closing his eyes as he turned his face into the sunlight letting it caress his features and turn the red and russet of his patchy markings into fiery burnished bronze and threaded gold. The breeze stirred the tough stalks of gorge grass, and then swirled through the long tendrils of the spirit dog's fur. His chocolate nose quivered again as he caught the scents of sun warmed rock, water, and distant the smell of bark and leaf matter. Slitting his eyes just a bit Drum gave a soft breath that could almost be considered a sigh, and turned his head back toward the other dog speaking softly, "I was hoping you could tell me a little of this area, I've only just arrived here." He stated; the dog had not given him any reason to doubt him yet, and as such Drum was just treating him like anyone else. The male, though, seemed to have a bit of a gruff personality.

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OoC: Eh, not a very good post, apologies. :\