(( running from your world )) ---OPEN

[Coldfire]

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[atrb=background,http://i55.tinypic.com/x2w11h.jpg] [scrolly:h(299),w(253),sy] The day would seem to be coming to a close, with the shadows of the night tinting the sky in a purple haze, but it was welcomed gladly by the rottweiler who sat among the rubble of a burned down building, having made it miraculously to what was left of the second floor. The hard tile of what might have been a bathroom was slick from an earlier rainfall. It would have been easy for her to slip and fall off the edge, but she had not cared. Her life would end when the time was right, and she would not fear it. Everything came to an end, eventually; the day, the night, the life within any creature. It all would end. They may not want it to, and they may be afraid of it, but it did not matter. They had no control, no one did. She closed her eyes for a moment as the warmth from the sun faded; a regular occurrence that was beginning to lengthen, as it had since the start of this season. The cold wind ruffled her fur, and her jaw opened slightly, taking in the scents it carried and enjoying the cooler breeze. Then, as if with a sudden purpose, she opened her eyes and stood, rapidly enough she could have easily had a paw or two slide and send her to her side, though this did not happen. One could call her lucky, though she knew it was no more a matter of luck than the fact she had simply corrected her footing fast enough that the slippery surface didn't do any harm this time around. Slowly, steadily, she began her travels back across the tile to what minimal stairs there were, finding no point in moving swiftly. It would only cause her to slip more, and she didn't care if she arrived back at her shelter in the middle of the night. She was on her lonesome at the moment, but she liked it better that way. When she was alone, there was no one who would lie to her. She wasn't sure she could manage to live in a pack even if she tried, not after what had happened last time. The memory she tried so hard to keep locked away filtered out again, and she began ignoring where her paws were going, simply on autopilot. 'Now, now, what have we here? Little Fire's caught her first prey. I’m sure the alphas will be just overjoyed' The large dog towered over her, still not full grown and small to begin with. But she'd had a fire inside her then, back before the brute broke her spirit. He’d fought her for nothing, teamed up on her with the rest of the pack. And what had hurt the most then, and still hurt now, were those two pairs of eyes, eyes that were entirely regular in every way, but she knew so well. Her mother and her father, the alphas, were simply standing there in the bushes, watching, hidden. She'd finally gotten away, sure, with her coat bloodied and torn nearly to shreds, but she didn't run to them. No, that was when she ran away, and she could hear them calling after her, yelling the truths that they had lied about. If she could not trust them, she knew, she could not trust anyone. There was more, of course there was, but pain brought her out of it as her paw slid from under her, throwing her off balance and sending her flat against the tile, sliding along the slanted ground and tumbling down the stairs, softly yelping at the sudden, unexpected pain that flared through her ribs and her front right ankle. Probably jut bruised, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell for the moment. Rather than fight to get up, Coldfire lay her head down on a charred piece of wood, closing her eyes to catch her breath, and to push the memories away again, before they returned, repeatedly, with more vivid details each and every time, as they tended to do. [/scrolly]

[`_sashka]

[scrolly:h(180),w(373),sy]Small paws pattered along the cracked sidewalk, the dog carrying itself with little purpose; wandering, forever wandering. Not quite searching - no, if he were, he'd never find what he was looking for - not that he was looking, no! Those brats, he had taken care of them, taught them well - they knew how to handle their lives. He wouldn't turn them away though - never. They were the only other beings he had ever loved, besides his dear old mother, may she rest in peace. No, he wasn't searching, just wandering, wandering...

Always wandering...

His feminine head glanced up from the path, tearing his blue and brown eyes from the tattered and torn concrete, roughened and seasoned from the rain and the hell that had rained upon them all not too long ago. His pads didn't feel it as rough as they were - he wondered, however, if it was supposed to hurt. Silly thoughts! he laughed to himself, stopping and sitting just as suddenly as the thought had crossed his mind; tossing his head back, the thick fur of the mock-mane on his neck and shoulders shifted as he grinned lopsidedly, casually casting his gaze all around. Perhaps there were someone there - someone he could not smell? Yes, he often found others with no scent; some of them hadn't been too friendly, but others had been very pleasant indeed. Oh! He almost crowed in delight, yipping like a young pup as he bounded after the little floating light, laughing along with it's merry little tinkle-bell squawks of "Iiiiiiiiiigiiiiiiiiiriiiiiiiiiisuuuuuu!"

Had there been anyone there to see him they would have thought him mad. But he saw this light - the others just weren't looking close enough! He could see them, they were there! And he usually had a grand ol' time with the little lights - none of which seemed to have names - but sometimes they reminded him a little too much of -

- wait, what was that? He froze, craning his head about, the little light disappearing. It was growing darker, getting colder; with his thick pelt, the mixed breed barely noticed. There was something, though, about the building he was standing in front of. It was charred, obviously having fallen victim to a fire, and looked absolutely abysmal. However... He thought he had heard a crash, a soft yelp. He was tempted to turn tail and walk away; he didn't owe anything to anybody - he had no friends, no one to be responsible for. It was none of his business. And yet he knew he'd never be able to ever look at himself the same. If someone was hurt... It seemed quite likely looking at the building; he felt sick inside, thinking about the injuries one could sustain in the death-trap.

With a sigh the white and silver dog gingerly, carefully, made his way inside. There, lying at the foot of a - staircase? - was a Rottweiler that could be bigger than him. The black and brown dog - a female, he guessed - was lying her head on a charred piece of wood. He frowned, slowly approaching, stopping feet from her. "Miss, are you alright? Did you fall?"

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[Coldfire]

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[atrb=background,http://i55.tinypic.com/x2w11h.jpg] [scrolly:h(299),w(253),sy] Her body ached. At least she had no reason to wonder why. She hadn't hit her head after all, remembered each embarrassing, painful jolt as she'd hit the edge of each stair. She wouldn't be surprised if there was a splinter or two. Probably more, knowing her luck in this world. The pain set in as the memories were pushed to the back of her mind again, opening up room for the realization that it had, indeed, hurt as she had expected it to. She shifted, moving to a position from which she could pull herself up, but she froze. Her head snapped around at the voice, though the soft crunch of something charred crumbling away under a paw had been what caught her attention first. After her head turned, she spotted the dog, his fur long and various shades of grays, though most of it was white. The first thing that hit her, though, was not a wondering of who he was or why he cared. No, what hit her first was the fear. Fear this was nothing more than a deception, a convenient lie to get close than tear her to shreds. She was used to that. She expected it. She bravely rose to her feet, trying desperately to hide the fact that she kept minimal weight on that one twisted ankle. The pain was not as strong as she knew it should be. After awhile, pain dulled, much like a sense, particularly when you were trying to not pay attention to it by focusing all the more on your surroundings. It's none of your concern. She growled softly, gruff and defensive, though not openly mean. No, she was not one of those rottweilers who had lived and breathed in a fighting ring. She just needed to keep them away somehow, to avoid the potential betrayal and disappointment. It was a form of protection - both emotional and physical, though she was far more concerned with the emotional portion of it. She could handle physical pain, and if it killed her... Well, so be it. Head held high, proud in order to hide the pain and loneliness, she moved to walk forward, intending to just walk away and leave him behind, never to be seen again, like so many others. She could ignore the pain, or so she thought. Her ribs ached, yes, but they were only bruised and already the pain was fading, dulling. Her ankle had other plans for her, however. To walk required putting much more weight on it, and as soon as she did, the dull pain spiked, a sharp stab. Not as painful as it could be, she was doubtful it had broken, but it was certainly worse than originally assumed. The stab of pain brought a small snarl to her face as she tried to not whine, or yelp. Tried to not alert him that it had hurt. She kept moving, wincing and gritting her teeth together with each step. Maybe he'd leave her be. Maybe she'd get lucky, for once. However, she highly doubted it. [/scrolly]

[`_sashka]

[scrolly:h(180),w(373),sy]He jerked, skittering back a few feet, unsuppressed fear showing in his eyes. It wasn't her intimidating size nor her breed; it was the quick movement she made - snapping her head around like that... He felt as if he were being pinned there, like a small pup, like his brutish brothers had done so often, bruising his fragile body, crushing him with their weight -

- maybe she was just as afraid as he was. He calmed himself with deep breaths, gently lowering himself to his belly, lying his head on his outstretched paws. She stood, and he had to admire her bravery; such a long fall, and how much pain she must have been in. Her soft growl caused his tail to tremble upon his back; hoping to hide his shaking he tucked it down under a hind paw firmly. He had no doubt in his mind that she could easily rip him to bits and pieces if she wanted to - if it weren't for her ankle. Yes, when she walked... He could see the small snarl on her face, practically hear the dull crunch of her teeth grinding as she worked through the pain as he had often done himself.

He gazed upon her sadly, but slowly moved out of her way, keeping in front of her but not blocking the exit. "I know it's not," he replied softly, finally, "but a lot of things aren't of my concern. This doesn't mean that I could just sit by when it sounded like someone could be in trouble. No... Too many times I've done that, and now I've lost my family." He sighed heavily, scratching at an ear. This wasn't good - she seemed... emotionally off. How to put her at ease? Maybe...

"When I was still living with them," he suddenly spoke, loudly and startling himself, "my brothers would hurt me all the time. I think... you should probably rest. And - and eat something. Yes, give that ankle a rest. If you'd like, I could go get you something - but I - I'm doing this for myself! Not you! I... I mean..." His face burned as he stumbled and stuttered, and he shyly averted his odd colored eyes. "I need to go out and find something to eat anyway. It wouldn't be any trouble at all for me to bring you something..."

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[Coldfire]

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[atrb=background,http://i55.tinypic.com/x2w11h.jpg] [scrolly:h(299),w(253),sy] She didn't soften at the quivering, at least not openly. In her mind, however, it spun a whole new web or thoughts and questions that she didn't voice, didn't even dream of voicing. She couldn't have been that scary. She didn't like to scare them off - at least, not literally. She'd much rather send them running from her rude words than her teeth. If she physically chased them off, that would just make her like them and that wouldn't do. Her step faltered when he mentioned family, and she paused in her stride. She nearly started again when suddenly he spoke a second time, mentioning how his brothers had hurt him. She flinched at the mention and began walking again, with renewed and invigorated purpose. She wanted to get away; no, needed to. It was too similar. The memories would come back. With the added speed, though it wasn't much, the limp was unable to be hidden, though she minimized it the best she could. But he'd already noticed, and he pointed this out. She had just reached the doorway to exit the building when she paused, cursing herself for it, but he was right. She needed to rest the ankle. She couldn't do that here, if a storm came the house would no doubt collapse, but the small shed nearby was surprisingly intact. That would do, for a shelter. But she didn't let it seem like her injuries were the reason for stopping as she turned her gaze on him. She turned her head slower this time, subconsciously remembering his reaction last time and cautioning her against snapping her head around again. I've hunted outside the city with far worse injuries, after... She cut herself off with a soft growl, shaking her head and looking away. No, Fire, snap out of it. He could have made up that story, lulled you into a false sense of security and similarity. But the simple action of nearly telling him a tidbit was enough to stir up the memories. There was a quiver along her body before she shoved the thoughts, the echoing voices, the flashes of images - all of it - away again. She'd become an expert at that. I'll be fine. And if I'm not... Well, then it would be my time. No point trying to run from it. Yet, when she set off at a limp again, she headed for the shed, nosing the door open to find it empty. She slipped in, settling down gingerly, careful not to jostle her bruised ribs or twist her probably sprained ankle. And yet, her senses never left him, always on guard. And now, her eyes peered through the door, still open, watching him. As always, they told much more than she wanted them to, showed the caution and the traces of fear laced in with it. She'd never been good at acting with anything more than her voice. A curse, perhaps, in some ways. Particularly with the stubborn ones who just wanted to help, or at least said they did. They read her like a damned open book, made them that much more difficult to get rid of. [/scrolly]

[`_sashka]

[scrolly:h(180),w(373),sy, c(F1E197)]She faltered. That was it; her weakness - family. Such a simple, common weakness - if it could be called such. Either way, it gave him a reaction; she faltered. And when he mentioned his brothers - disgusting brutes they were! - she flinched, but soon started off again. Someone may have hurt her, he noted solemnly, someone close to her.

She was so close to leaving, right there at the doorway, and he needed to stop her. He couldn't let her go out there - what if she were attacked? She could die! No, it simply wouldn't do - so he called her out on it. It had the desired effect; she stopped, turned her head - he was prepared, that time, but she seemingly remembered his shameful reaction from before - and he tried to meet her chocolate eyes, but couldn't quite bring himself to break that barrier of privacy.

Igirisu's face fell as she spoke, though he nodded and gave a soft sort-of smile. "Alright, miss. Good luck." he replied simply, watching the Rottweiler leave. Feh. If she thought he was leaving it at that she was dead wrong; no, he could feel her watching him from the shed. Guilt gnawed at his stomach and heart as he quickly sprung out of the exit and down the street, sniffing at the ground intently; what if she wanted help, but was too proud to admit it? Or... What if she got hurt while he was gone? He couldn't do anything about it, just hurry up with his search so he could get back.

It was growing darker by the minute, though, and it was starting to worry him. He didn't want to wander too far away, lest he get lost; but after ten minutes he still hadn't found anything to take to her. With a sigh he entered another building, broken and dilapidated and stinking of something decidedly rancid - possibly a decaying body. He drew his lips back in a disgusted snarl, fighting the bile rising in his throat, pushing forward and searching for whatever was the cause of that awful stench. In a back room he found a tattered blanket; perhaps she can lay on it, he wondered, it can at least provide her some comfort. He grabbed it with his teeth, huffing as he stumbled back down a dirty hallway, into a larger room.

The cabinets were in shambles. The doors were almost completely torn off their hinges, the surfaces scratched and splintered. In a corner was a rotting rabbit - it probably starved. It's children were small and scrawny, many of them dead; he lifted the two that were still alive onto the blanket, and pulled it out onto the street.

It was almost completely dark by the time he stumbled back to the burnt building and it's little shed. He stopped, letting the edge of the blanket fall from as mouth as he gasped for breath. "M-miss? Are you still in there?" he called softly, pulling the blanket with the 'food' behind him, shuffling his way into the shed.

Blackie has camouflage. Not fair.

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[Coldfire]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true]

[atrb=background,http://i55.tinypic.com/x2w11h.jpg] [scrolly:h(299),w(253),sy] She watched as he paused a moment, then sprung into action. She waited until he was out of sight to curl up a bit more, get more comfortable. She rested her chin on her uninjured paw, the left one, and let her eyes close. For a while, it just heightened her other senses. There was many a sound that caused her to jump and her eyes to shoot open. However, none of them were as close as she thought, or relevant to her. She was hidden, provided no one caught her scent. Even then, they'd probably realize how fresh it was and leave her be. Eventually, the nerves and paranoia that came with the memories wore away and she drifted in and out of a light sleep, never quite aware of how much time passed when she drifted to slight consciousness, and she slipped back under quickly enough that she didn't care enough to open her eyes to the light and find out. But the memories never stayed away. They were burned in her mind far to deep. Usually, the re-occurrences would fade with time until something jolted them back. They'd been rather rare for the past few weeks, in fact. The fall, however, had been accompanied by pain, a trigger that often sent them back. Little things like scratches or the bite of a fearful rabbit just before she killed it did nothing, but it was the larger injuries that reminded her of how close she lingered to death's door, and then consequently who had caused the pain. It was often times, in the echos of pains, that the memories haunted her as nightmares more than actual thoughts plaguing her mind. This was, again, the case. Dreams always seemed to twist things, make them worse than they were. In this one, she'd been hiding in the midst of a thorn bush, forced to ignore the stabbing of the pricks because the bush kept her safe from those who chased her. The ones who were hunting her. The ones she had thought of as family. There was a soft whimper as his voice cut through her dream. His voice was a twisted echo, a mocking tease to lure her out from the bush. But the voice did not match the face, her uncle. That was what snapped her out of it, whimper dying out immediately as her eyes snapped open and she held herself back, reminding herself instantly it was just a dream, that there was no thorn bush, no stalking hunter after her. Then she spotted the white fluff of a coat and she growled slightly. He was back. She cut the growl off, not intent on scaring him away in such a manner. That would be rude and mean, and she would not stoop to that level. That would be equating herself to them, the ones who had made her this way, and she refused to do that. Still, her voice wasn't fully kind - though it wasn't mean either. Rather, defensive. She knew she occasionally mumbled in her sleep. Though she hadn't this time, she didn't know that. She didn't know how much he knew, and that made her walls spring up, along with extra barricades to keep him at tail's length, or further if at all possible. What do you want? I said I'd be fine. [/scrolly]

[`_sashka]

[scrolly:h(180),w(373),sy, c(F1E197)]A soft sound cut through the silence, though he couldn't quite recognize it. He was, however, quite familiar with the slight, short and abruptly cut off rumble that came next. He laughed, softly, as his eyes slowly adjusted; he could see her outline, he thought, and her defensive words confirmed her identity. "I know you did. I brought food, though, he replied, nudging the bundle towards her. "I found them down the way. They're small, though, so I brought you two."

Wrinkling his nose, he stiffly shuffled to a nearby corner, lying neatly on the cold ground with his head on his outstretched paws, odd eyes half-closed and a slack grin turning up the corners of his lips. He quietly watched her for a moment - signs of aggression, signs of any emotion - before averting his eyes; it was rude, after all, to stare. It disrespected privacy, and it was just so awkward.

or maybe it's just you, a little voice said, not too far from his ear - taunting him. He ignored it, however; sometimes belligerent little lights of crimson came up to him, speaking of things that he didn't want to hear. They could go on for some time before he snapped, but he was already feeling terrible - he normally did - and there was the added of strain of trying to help this stubborn Rottweiler... It was no good for his mental health.

no, really?

ooc, sorry. fail post is fail. :/ i'm on the computer in career management, though, and this may be the only time i'll be on long enough to actually reply today. after being out of school for a week i have a lot of make-up work. if you need me to add / change something, let me know.

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[Coldfire]

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[atrb=background,http://i55.tinypic.com/x2w11h.jpg] [scrolly:h(299),w(253),sy] For a moment, the barriers fell away from surprise. She had treated him rather terribly - though she could do far worse, she knew - yet he'd come back. Not just to bother her more, either. He'd come back with food. It didn't make sense, though perhaps he was just as stubborn as some she'd run into at other points in her life. She hadn't thought he was, but she'd never been the best judge of character. She growled softly, but it was half-hearted, and despite herself, she was hungry. She pulled the bundle toward her, nosing the blanket until it revealed the little rabbits, still nowhere near full grown, but large enough for a dog's meal. She paused at the sight of them anyway, despite the gnawing hunger in her stomach and the knowledge that they would be tender and fresh, something that wasn't a guarantee in this world anymore. But, she knew it was simply coincidence that the worst day of her life had ended in her killing a rabbit. There were many coincidences in this world after all, and he hadn't known. She tried to not let it show she'd hesitated. She leaned down, killing them before fear did. After all, they were separated from their mother and were surrounded by two larger creatures with dangerous teeth. She knew how that fear felt, she wouldn't wish it even on prey. She still killed to eat, yes, but she did so quickly, with understanding. Something some did not afford themselves the time for. Felines, for example. She had once spotted a cat playing with its prey for an hour before finishing the job, chasing it and taunting it and batting at it, but not killing it. She would not fall to that. She ate quickly, but paused part way through the second one and realized how rude she'd been. She hated being rude without meaning to be. She was strange that way, she would admit to that. If she did something in order to chase someone away, that didn't mean she liked doing it. She saw it as a sort of necessary evil, something she had no choice but to do in order to protect herself, both physically and mentally. That did not mean she didn't have manners; of course she did. She pushed what was left toward him, looking rather embarrassed and guilty, though she hoped the shadows hid it, since she knew she wouldn't be able to even if she tried. You... you should have some too. She turned her head away then, looking back out the door, head on her paws. He was kept in her peripheral vision, a watch for in case he did something so that she would be ready and able to react in a quick and timely fashion. She wasn't about to fall back asleep, she was wide awake now. Not because she'd had food, of course, but rather because she was no longer alone and as a result might be in danger. Paranoid was perhaps the best way to describe it. ...And, thank you. The words were mumbled and soft spoken. If he didn't catch them, so be it. She wasn't about to repeat them for anyone, least of all him, the one they were aimed at. It felt like admitting she'd needed the help, and she refused to believe that true for even a second. In fact, she vehemently defended it as being just polite and nothing more to herself, silently, in her own mind. At least it was a distraction that kept memories at bay. For this moment, she could be normal. Or, rather, as normal as she seemed to get. [/scrolly]