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Post by Cider on May 30, 2011 11:19:19 GMT -5
Cider lay deadly still on the shore of the beach. He could feel the warm, salty waves on his hind paws. As he struggled to open his eyes, it was all blurry. He could only see splotches of green that might be a forest. He stirred slowly, feeling the sand benieth his body, and squish between his toes. The leopard dog blinked a couple of times to clear his vision. What in the world just happened? He was on a strange peice of land with sand and a forest. Where was he?
The male struggled to push himself off the sand. He opened his jaws to feel his tounge parched. He faltered and fell back into the sand. This was a dream. It had to be. This was not possible. He was going to sleep under a bush, and now he was here, on an island? Impossible. It was incomprehendable! Cider perked his white-tipped ears, listening to anything. Was he the only one on this weird island? He shoved himself off the ground again, his swollen tounge lolling out of his mouth. He needed to find water. He also needed to find dogs.
"Hello?" he barked as loud as his cracked voice would allow him. He staggered in the sand and whipped his head around him. Oh, god, please let some other dog be stranded on this island with him. "Hello?!" he snapped once again. He almost looked crazed. But what dog wouldn't?
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Post by Malfunction on May 30, 2011 12:45:26 GMT -5
KerringtonShe was vaguely aware of cold water lapping in a hungry way at her paws, of the sun beating down on her black back, making the short hairs nearly hot to the touch. Aware of the sound of the tide rushing in and being sucked back out, of birds chirping in the distance. None of it seemed to register though. She lay there, limp and broken spirited, the sand warming her belly and the water trying its hardest to rouse the sleeping canine. Whether it be the fact that she had been unconscious when arriving on the island, or the simple fact that she refused to wake up, the female had not roused in two days. Not to eat nor drink, not to relieve herself, not to do anything. But it seemed that the sunshine and the water and the birds and the other calming noises were winning her over, for she began to stir. First one eye, then the other, then a tremendously deep breath- which made her wince in light pain.
Opening her eyes, she blinked the sun away, and they adjusted quickly to the bright light reflecting from the sand and water. Her ears pricked, and aside from the fact that she was instantly pleased to see that she was alone rather than with humans, her mind began to race. How had she ended up here? Her last memory had been of her master's fist coming down on her head and back without mercy for minutes that seems like hours. She knew she had fallen to the ground in defeat, knew she had been put back in her cage. But then what? Had she been sent away to this place, had her master and his children had enough of her? She'd certainly had enough of them in that year and a half. But her thoughts faded and she closed her eyes again. If she had died that night, as she thought she would, then death was beautiful, and she was going to hold on to it.
Her ears pricked again. The calming silence had been interrupted. She was not dead. Death did not scream hello's. Listening harder, she could hear the faint voice of another being, another canine. Yet all she could smell was the salt in the water and the breeze in the air. With a sigh, she tried to remember how to make her muscles work. It was then that she realized how thirsty she was. Her mouth was so dry that it hurt to swallow. Could she even talk? She wouldn't try just yet. Focusing on her legs, she heaved her body up in a few tries. Her wounds from where her master's hand had split the skin on her shoulder and eyebrow open were now scabbed over. She was aware that her vision was not as clear as it should have been, and realized that her eye was slightly swollen. Trying to clear her throat, the female stood there for several moments.
The voice came again, still faint. But she whipped her head to the left, in the direction it was coming from. Narrowing her brown eyes, she tried to make out the form of what looked like a black dot on the horizon that looked like it might be coming toward her. Having been locked up in a house for a year and a half without the privilege of meeting other dogs, she knew none but her siblings who had been taken away long ago. If this canine was friendly, perhaps it might let her accompany it in this strange new world? She began to take slow steps toward it.
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Post by Thirteen on May 30, 2011 13:37:00 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] | [atrb=background,http://i55.tinypic.com/nz4r4i.jpg] The faint noise of another's voice shattered the thin veil of unconsciousness that had settled over his mind like a blanket of snow on slumbering winter ground. A paw twitched, and then a tail, as the large canine attempted to rid himself of the voice, as if wanting to lay there, undisturbed, for as long as possible. He was at the vet. Anesthesia was what was making him groggy. He was on one of those wheeling carts, the ones that made lesser dogs dizzy and upsettable.... there were hands, hands, hands on his pelt, and more voices mingling with the faint call of 'Hello?' he could hear in the background. He felt a prickle in his side, a flutter in his stomach, and a jab of pain from the useless leg that held him back. Shots. They must be giving him shots. A hand snatched out for his face, grabbed his muzzle, stuck his face in some sort of tube.... and then the water came rushing it.
Half submerged in the lapping waves and half stretched across the sandy shore lay the Afghan hound, head tilted into the water and legs spread groggily behind. Every breath brought in salt water that burned like fire in his throat, and every sputter of the liquid out made his sides ache. A few moments of back-and-forth with the ocean, and his eyes- or, rather, single working eye- slid drowsily open, blinking several times in the white-hot light. The gritty press of sand in his flesh made his body tingle all over, and the weight of his thick wet fur made the grainy particles cut into him even more. He could see a small fish darting amid the sand beneath the waves, and watched it, unblinking, for what seemed like hours. A beach. He was on a beach. No vet, no shots, no tubes, simply a beach.
A twitch in all four legs had the beast pushing himself to his paws, avoiding pressure on the hind leg that, even now, felt sluggish and tender. A wince dashed across his face as he righted himself completely, sliding a bit in the inconsistent sand and leaning on his injured leg to correct his positioning. Wet fur clung to his body and face, obscuring what little he could see out of his uninjured eye, and sending everything in sight into a spectrum of watery, bleary figures. He took a few moments to adjust to the bright lighting, taking care never to rest too long on his hind foot, before hobbling intently toward a silhouette on the horizon. It was to his left, a little ways off, and seemingly moving the opposite way. Another dog, he was guessing, from the shape of the creature, and the owner of the voice that had shattered his dreamworld. Coughing once to rid himself of the salty tang in his throat, and licking his sun-dried lips, the inversely colored dog picked up a tiny bit of speed, limping as if with new purpose toward the other creature. He was still a ways off, and the stranger seemed to still be inching away, but London continued onward.
His throat was dry, his mouth parched, and his words faulty, but the canine found the energy to speak up. Instead of determinable words, he let out a loud howl, a grating, harsh sound that showed his inability to summon up true words almost as well as silence would have. "Stay... where you.. are..." he rasped to himself of the other dog, continuing to pad at an awkward speed toward the other. He would clear this challenge of reaching the stranger by himself.
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Post by sinbad on May 30, 2011 14:24:22 GMT -5
Vanya
It was the joy of running that had the fawn colored wolfhound running, long legs stretching, brown eyes taking in sights of what he galloped past. Sucking in huge amounts of air, his pink tongue lolled from his mouth, sharp white teeth glinting as they were exposed to sunlight. Black nails ripped into loose sand, sending the grains flying as he tore along the beach, savoring the feeling of running for the sake of running. However, all good things must come to an end, for everyone, even Vanya. The wind was whipping past his ears, but still something sounded off enough for the large dog to stop, panting in great, heaving breaths. Again, there it was again. A voice, yelping like a pup lost from it's mother's side for the first time. A feeling of disgust welled up in his throat, and a huff of irritation rolled from his vocals. A voice calling, for help or conformation, he wasn't sure, and it really wasn't in his desires to find out. However, the rolling howl that came from further down the beach made his teeth grit. How many of these lost canines were here?
As if he were one to talk. He'd woken up just as frightened as everyone else, lost and scared. He had yelled for hours, from noon until the sun set, before he had headed inland, trying to find water, trying to get his feet to work, trying to ignore how ill he had felt. Part of him stirred with sympathy, part of him irritation. After all, he had found a place to settle for a few more hours just fine, surely these dogs would do so as well. Though, that meant that his peaceful run would still be disrupted, and since it already had been, why not at least bitch at those responsible for that.
A smirk tugged at black lips, and after a moment of scanning the horizon with his good eye, he spotted a shape further down the shore. Starting off at a calm trot, he kept his head high, tail acting as a perfect counter balance. It didn't take long for him to find the source of the noise, the barking at least. The multi-colored dog who had been begging for a simply reply to his panicked hello. As he got closer, the urge to screw with the other dog was welling up, like a spring from under the ground. It would be so simple, but that would be wrong. Very wrong, but there was much fun to be had. There always was in situations such as these.
Vanya stopped several meters away from the multi-colored dog, standing, lowering his head until his chin was level with the white spot on his chest. He grunted, with something that might of been satisfaction or scorn, it was rather hard to tell. A few steps closer, and he stopped again, tilting his head slightly, to where his left eye, dominate eye, could get a better look at him. Interesting, for a sandy, soaked, frightened dog.
" I wouldn't be screaming my fool head off, if I were you. You might attract unwanted attention."
Over the other dog's shoulder, he caught sight of something on the horizon? What was that, another new comer, or just someone else wandering around the beach. Before he could ponder further, the sound of a, jagged howl broke the air. Perhaps they might be joined by others soon enough.
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Post by Reconsider on May 30, 2011 19:16:18 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true] | [atrb=background,http://i486.photobucket.com/albums/rr229/s-doggy13/KHEETAMID.png]
The soft sound of water meeting up to the shore was the sound she heard when she became conscious. The smell of fruit and salt filled her nostrils and a bright light blinded her when she finally opened her eyes. She was amazed. Bewildered. Totally confused and she didn't like it one bit. The next rush of emotions that flooded her mind and soul and body was hurt. Where was her kennel that wouldn't sell her or get rid of her for the world? She was the most prized Cambo. How could they do this to her?
Her head hurt and she was tired of asking stupid questions that obviously weren't going to get any answers anytime soon. So she looked around, taking in her surroundings. She might as well know that she had to deal with it now. Don't be like other canines and how they would be in this situation. Wait. Other canines? Are there other canines here? She lifted her head up and groggily pushed herself up on all fours. Somewhat wobbly at first.
She then realized how sore she was. Her leg muscles felt strained and her neck felt sore and almost like she slept on it wrong. Her head pounded. But she shook herself and listened. "Hello?" She heard in the distance. And than she darted, despite the slight pain that flooded her body.
She sped across the sand covered ground. Trees past and scents past her like stars would pass a rocket in a night sky. Her legs barely touched the ground beneath her and she brought herself practically in a flying frenzy toward the voice. Why? She wanted to know who else was here. Maybe they had answers. Maybe they knew her. Maybe.. they were a Cambo. Even better, if this voice belonged to a nice stud of a dog. Then she might just be able to enjoy this.. place. This. And she brought herself to overcome what it is. This.. island.
It seemed like forever, and finally she cut into the deep trees and ran along the tree line. She finally saw two canines. One looked like a wolfhound, with a fawn colored coat. She could hear him saying something like " I wouldn't be screaming my fool head off, if I were you. You might attract unwanted attention." to the other canine, who appeared shaken up and frightened. Kheeta was behind the Wolfhound by several feet, but she pushed herself and skidded past him, until she was in front of him, but not directly. She was left of him and almost face to face with the frightened dog. She cocked her head, narrowed her pretty dark brown eyes and turned sideways, walking, pacing somewhat so both the Wolfhound and this upset canine could see her prized ridge on her back. She looked both sexy and intimidating as she looked at both, a cocky smirk on her maw.
"Rawr to both of you. What's up? Anyone else wake up on a freaking island?" She said with thick coated sarcasm and a laugh in her throat. She then looked slightly to her right and saw some more canines lopping over here. This should be quite interesting.
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Post by Cider on May 30, 2011 20:02:45 GMT -5
It must be the sun rays. They were messing with his brain. His long ears perked at the sound of each new voice. Closing his bright blue eyes, he sucked in a deep breath. He relaxed his muscles and blew out the breath. Okay, so, he was here, on an island, with other dogs. At least he wasn't alone. Shaking his broiling pelt, he stood still, as it seemed all the dogs were heading towards him. He let his tail go limp, for it hurt when he raised it. The first dog to approach him had a light brown colored pelt. The dog appeared to be looking him over. Cider didn't care right now, and barely heard what the other male said. He only caught the '...attrack unwanted attention.' part. The tips of his ears bend over again as his heart rate started to go back to normal.
His eys finally focused on the dog infront of him."Well, you found me, didn't you?" The brute's eyes flickered to two more dark shapes racing over the horizon. Three other dogs. He heard one of them shout to him to stay still. Believe me, he wasn't going anywhere. His paws were planted in the sand. Cider swiped a parched tounge over his nose, though it did nothing. His attention was put back on the dog infront of him. He didn't know what else to say. There were only questions that none of them could possibly answer.
Cider's gaze rested on yet another canine racing over the sand to meet them. He couldn't quite get a good look until she was a bit closer. The female had a golden pelt with a dark masks. The male watched as she raced towards them, and halted right infront of him. His neck went back a little as her muzzle was close to his face. Rawr. He'd never heard that word before. "Pretty sure we all did," the male added. The female had a strange raise to her spine. She must be one of those ridgeback..no..razorback breeds. He narrowed his whiteish blue eyes. They didn't have usually have masks. Whatever. This light was getting to his head. But one thing he did know, was that this female was not lacking in good looks.
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Post by Malfunction on May 31, 2011 0:42:55 GMT -5
KerringtonHer eye was throbbing. If she concentrated on it enough, she could practically hear the lub-dub, lub-dub sound it was making in her head. It made it hard to focus on anything else, but she forced her attention to return to her pace. Slowly, she was managing to make her way over to the dot on the horizon. Yet as she stared in that direction, she watched in excitement and something close to fear as she saw another form come into view, and only minutes later- another. She wanted to meet these canines, but she was in no hurry at all. Her slow pace allowed her time to think about where she was, how she had ended up here. It was not that she was terrified of this new place, she was happy that as far as she knew, she was away from the humans who had treated her so badly. But having been allowed outside only a few times in her life, she wasn't used to the strange scents and sights. The sunshine pleased her, but the awkward sucking noise that the tide made when trying to drag the sand back into it's depths was just that, awkward. Her legs were also bothering her, the muscle tense from being curled up for so long without so much as twitching.
Lost in her thoughts, she was surprised as she focused back on her mission, to see the canines in clear sight now. Only a few hundred feet off, she managed to quicken her pace. Growing closer, she first sized up the male that she thought the voice who had finally roused her belonged to. He was a collage of colors, black, white, brown, maybe even silver. She'd never seen someone with those markings before, and found him interesting. He seemed frightened, and she tilted her head as she watched him for another moment. The second dog was also a male. He had weird looking fur, and as she took several more steps, she could hear sarcasm dripping on his words. Something about unwanted attention? And then she focused her eyes on the third canine- a female. She was beautiful, and taking that first glance at her made Kerrington feel smaller in a way, as if she would go unnoticed with this female around. Finally reaching the threesome, she let her tongue loll out, licking her parched lips.
She cleared her throat, getting ready to speak when the female was finished, but the first male spoke up again. Answering the two that spoke. Kerrington stepped into the circle, ears pricked as she glanced at each one again. "Ahem..does anyone know where we are exactly..?" Her words came out in a cracked voice, and she realized just then how desperately she needed water. Maybe one of these four knew where shelter, food, and water would be. The female seemed confident and the two males who had come to this first canine seemed cocky or something, but she ended her questioning with just that and settled back on her aching haunches.
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Post by Thirteen on May 31, 2011 17:09:17 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] | [atrb=background,http://i55.tinypic.com/nz4r4i.jpg] Despite the obstacle that slowed him- that infernal leg- London reached the other dogs in short time, just as a final beast trickled in to the group. Had they been a pack by themselves, already formed, he might have been wary, but their stances- none too relaxed, all with at least a flicker of uneasiness in them- told him that these dogs were all strangers to each other. Or so it seemed.
He approached slowly- slow enough to see the two females and another male dog came up from other directions on the beach to approach the dog who first called out. By the time he reached them all, only a few words before were caught by his own ears, and he was hopelessly lost in whatever the other dogs had been speaking of. He padded his way, painstakingly slowly, into the fringes of their group, taking care not to step too close to any of the other canines, and took a moment to settle his large bulk back into the sand. His longer fur had not completely dried yet, and the slight speckle of water droplets marked the sand around him like spots on a dalmatians back. He notes, with mild interest, that this group of other dogs had relatively short coats, and made a mental note of it in his mind. He was tempted to shake the intruding liquid from his pelt, to rid himself of the weighty substance- but the Afghan Hound decided against such an act in front of these strangers. It was beneath him- him, a vain, preening, pompous show dog- to shake like a common pup; or so it seemed in his mind. He was on an island- who exactly did he need to impress? But the canine sat stock still, simply listening and watching, waiting for whatever was meant to happen next to happen.
The fur around his face clung to his eyes, and obscured what little vision he had with dancing rivulets of water and white curls. Through this barricade of hair, he observed quietly the creatures he had come into the midst of. A spotted dog- perhaps catahoula? or some sort of merle breed?- seemed to contain the voice that had originally summoned him from his dreamland. Another dog, or, rather, another male, stood somewhat close to the first, and his slightly longer pelt was of a color similar to the sandy beach. The texture was interesting to London, though he said nothing of it. The other two canines were females- one of a neat black and tan coloration, and the other of a light brown with a black facial mark. He wasn't completely certain of either of their breeds, despite his knowledge attributed by his time in the ring, but he wasn't too concerned. What was breeding on an island of canine castaways? As if to contradict this, however, a brief thought of his own species darted proudly through his mind, adding a glimmer to the canines eye that seemed to stem from nowhere. Ah, whatever. He was getting distracted now.
"Greetings, canine castaways." He murmured after a few moments of thinking to himself, and clearing his throat as best he could. His voice was not cold, nor warm, but it seemed to have a pleasant tone, as if he was trying not to sound aggressive... nor too friendly. His voice still had the slight lilt of someone who had gone mute for quite some time, but there was no fixing that- he couldn't turn back time and make sure to speak more often in his mildly unconscious slumber.
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