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Post by Ridge on Feb 17, 2012 21:16:57 GMT -8
((ooc: Semi-formal and open, unless Ani minds, and the title choice? Seeing as Pogi strikes as a sort of conman and loner, I don't think he'll gain an edge with Scruff xD ))
A dull thud and the tinkling of metal falling over itself made only seemed to fill the cold, afternoon air. The sun had yet to reach its apex and was little more than a dull, yellow, glowing ball. The light blue sky stretching past the tall, man made buildings. Foamy white clouds huddled in the air, taunting birds and ground forsaken beings. Rusted metal threatened the large male's paw pads, though they were hollow and empty. The black pads hard and calloused from the constant bleeding and running on snow, an extra furry layer seeping between the toes in order to consume heat trying to escape. Not like the wolfhound mutt needed the extra heat. This new, strange place was hard and dusty, dry and warm. It was an odd transition for the male to be going through, the climate change and all, though Scruff gave no indication of being uncomfortable. The brindle, wiry haired mutt continued to climb up the dull, clinking hood of a car. Also an odd thing. The male than hopped off as the metal piece of garbage continued to make clunking noises as he walked over it. Landing back on the ground, more metal clinking.
The place was full of metal landmines, a missed step and one could set off a chain reaction of metal. In a city like this, though, that much noise could spell disaster. The large male was thankful though, new as he was he'd learned early on that infected preferred the night time, their sensitive eyes barely able to tolerate extreme late. That provided the canine with more opportunities and gave him an air of confidence and nonchalance as he pranced through the junkyard. Though, pranced wasn't the right description. His gait was odd, large steps but in a smooth, rhythmic motion. He evidently wasn't from around her if his scruffy appearance wasn't enough to tell.
Walking around the male was disgusted by the human garbage and how little entertainment it provided without the companionship of man. To him, it looked like red, powdery, or grey pieces of shaped rock, only thinner and harder. Humans made so much and just tossed it out. They were a mystery to say the least. The seat of a car, a faded leather, finally caught the dog's attention. Faded, dusty, and smelling of the metallic rot on everything else, the canine's sensitive nose could detect the hard hide. He'd eaten such before.
A protest of his stomach was enough to get the tripod bounding and tearing at it with his sharp teeth, cutting at the hide like a knife. Harsh tongue from eating almost frozen food, ignoring the dusty, crunchy texture to the otherwise chewy leather. Yum. A faint sound caught the mutt's ears though and large head wiped up, scruffy ears perking and hackles raising automatically. Yellow eyes beginning to glow with malice if needed. A low, warning growl emanating from his throat in harsh rasps. A warning to whoever tried to sneak up on the three legged, half blind canine.
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Post by shadowthin on Feb 17, 2012 23:06:51 GMT -8
Shadow: virusrising.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=tryouts&action=display&thread=101Shadow had been wandering through the town, as he usually did during the days. But today had not been so usual. He had found what had seemed to be an errand infected of the vicious type, and got to fight her since it was clear that nothing could have stopped her from staying on his pawsprints mocking at him. The fight itself hadn't been so hard, and most of the blood on his usually white and light grey fur belonged to the other. But the fight had attracted unwanted attention: two other infected had came, and these weren't really what one would have called small. Shadow had then preferred to relieve on his running skill, while the match wasn't really in his favor, and he had passed most of the morning playing at hide-and-seek with the two stupid mutts. A bit exhausted by his run, and feeling hungry, he decided to go to the junkyard both to hunt and take some rest. The full of rusted car's carcasses place wasn't the most attractive visually, but rats and such weren't that bad there. And looking at the surroundings from this place was not that hard either. He chose a spot on the top of an abandoned trailer's roof, bringing the two rats he had hunted, and once eaten he curled down to sleep... ... To be awaken some moments later by pawsteps, followed by some gurgling, and the noises made by an eating dog. A male, Shadow could've say, but none he apparently knew the scent already. He sighed, grumbling into himself. That was really the day... And apparently the dog had heard him, since he began to growl in a warning. "Hello out there, who are you?", he barked with his odd scattered voice. He still was on the roof, and not in a hurry to jump from there, not since he didn't even know who -or what- was there. ((Crappy 8am post is crappy lol))
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Post by Starmuttani on Feb 18, 2012 13:37:09 GMT -8
[Loving the title. xD I am excited to see how this plays out!] It was annoying. The condition of a city is getting worse and worse to a point that a certain grumpy canine keeps on finding himself returning to the land of filth. With a whiff with his nostrils, the short-haired Dachshund shudders in his disgust. It was greatly annoying how he always pride himself with high set of standards and stealing good food from oblivious humans... Then, out of the blue one day, have a disease roll into the city and turning even the most logical dog mad with insanity! These beasts are ruthless and stupid. They don't think. They act out on purely instincts and the need to spread the infection. They attack innocent humans with no remorse for the rest of their kind. Now, it's almost impossible to get near a human without them freaking out and retaliate out of fear. It was annoying because it constantly interferes with Pogi's plans. This Dachshund is a lone canine who always have to find and may even fight for food everyday. It used to be so much easier when he had his siblings and scheme clever plans for thievery, but he won't admit to that. In his survival-of-the-fittest state of mind, needing the help of others means he is seen as weak and easy to prey upon. Well, not this dog. Regardless of his size, Pogi have proven himself to be a worthy survivor of these hard times and he wasn't about to allow some damn Infected take that pride away. Even if it means scourging through mountains of trash for dinner, then so be it. Pogi slows into a stop in the middle of the junkyard and glances around to survey his area. He spots a chair missing its three wooden legs, a lamp stand that's been bent in half, a tattered sweater, and piles and piles of plastic bags stacked upon one another, all concealing their own treasures of trash. His torn ear perks up at the cries of gulls above head and he growls his annoyance. He is like them. Lowly scavengers. Perhaps he would be lucky and find some rats skittering about... or perhaps, he would be luckier and find another mutt with a delicious meal. That would be easier to plan then hunting! However, that was a thought too soon. Pogi's muscles bunches up as if he is expecting an attack. There was a noise of metal clinking nearby... Actually, it turns to be quite of a ruckus! No animal smaller than this Dachshund could make that sort of noise and Pogi knows it. 'Is that another dog...?' A wary thought flickers in his head as he scans the garbage piles for any signs of life. Even sniffing the foul air could not yield answers; the stench of trash was far too much. 'Or perhaps, a cat?' That hopeful thought gives his tongue an excuse to lick at his maw. A feline would make a wonderful gourmet meal! Now with that sort of motivation in his mind, Pogi feels the need to investigate. He crosses his paws that he would be rewarded in the end. With great bounds and leaps, the Dachshund's long body stretches out and his large paws digs into the dust. With his powerful sense of smell and sensitive hearing, the task of finding out the source was not difficult. In fact, he scrambles around a broken down file cabinet and finds himself confronting... much to his great disappointment... not one, but two rather large dogs. Unfortunately, from where he stands, he is directly between them! Immediately, Pogi puts himself on guard and could feel his fur rise up along his spine. His short legs is tense and ready to flee at any given second, but because it is such an odd sight to see, Pogi allow him brief time to study the situation before him. From his point of view upon the ground, the two dogs are tall and very leggy. Already, Pogi is aware that he has absolutely no chance with either one of them. Upon closer inspection, his chocolate brown eyes went to the dog who appears to be making the most commotion and going to town on some piece of leather. When realizing that fact, Pogi could not suppress his lip curling. That is a perfect example of standards that he would never lower himself down to. Unless that wiry haired mutt is using it as a tool to sharpen his teeth, that would not end well for Pogi. For all he could know, the Irish wolfhound would prefer live prey rather then the tough scrap of material he's chewing on. Then his eyes went over to the second canine and his sneer turns to an unhappy scowl. It wasn't hard to forget such an unique shaped dog as a Borzoi- if his grey and white patterns isn't enough to identify him, the strange broken voice he speaks with is unforgettable. It had to be none other than Shadow. Pogi heaves a sigh to show his further disappointment; he hates to have to meet up with same characters twice. Pogi is a dog of mystery and he liked it that way! However, since the new wiry haired stranger is expressing his throaty warning, the Dachshund decides that it would probably be in his best interest to keep his big mouth shut. After all, the Borzoi had been foolish enough to announce his presence first which meant that all attention was on him. Pogi's eyes continues to be fixed on the growling mutt and waits to see what would happen next. He was lucky enough that if things turns ugly, he is in a position that would enable him a speedy getaway!
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Post by Ridge on Feb 18, 2012 14:06:22 GMT -8
Scruff's head whipped to face the dog on higher ground than him. The dog was evidently larger than him as well. The mutt himself was quite a large animal, though he was leggy, yet had a thicker build than the Borzoi above. His yellow eyes continued to narrow as he looked up at the dog. Since when did a dog announce his presence? His voice was scattered... and gave the large mutt the impression that maybe he wasn't that big of a threat. He'd beaten rougher dogs, killed them and claimed supremacy over his dog team. How bad could the other lanky dog be? Before answering, the mutt looked to see the two rats by the canine's paws. A small snort. He could hunt, but when a nice piece of leather, thick and filling as well as a tool for sharpening one's own teeth, he'd opt for the more filling option. He was in no position to be picky for food, he was a rapid eater who could survive on small rations. When something large like the seat he was eating presented itself, he had no trouble feeding, eating fast so there'd be little to nothing left for others.
"How about you tell me first." The dog called, eying the large dog, his deep voice ringing. Face whipped again to the smaller figure that had just come running. Hackles, still raised, raised higher. Another low growl exiting his throat in surprise at the new canine's appearance. "And you?" The male added. He hated having to watch multiple targets. The dogs were lucky they weren't closer, nor on his bad side. Had they been on his right side, a swift strike of his fangs and maybe they'd think otherwise. A large Borzoi on a roof, a mutt on a seat, and a dachshund in the middle. Scruff quickly threw the possibility of a threat from the dachshund. He wasn't one to judge but when smaller dogs, ones who were clearly uninfected, the canine believed he'd be able to take them. He'd survived this long.
Scruffs lips were raised in an unwelcome smirk at the small dog's sneer. A 'do you have a problem' sort of face. The male wasn't one who cared of others' opinion but he sure as hell loved messing with them. Especially these two strangers. His one good eye watched both, the canine's out of his peripheral vision, ears perked and alert. He than proceeded to tear the leather in clean strips, chewing them for a second before swallowing, his teeth tearing through the hide with ease. Fluffy tail raised slightly and not moving, clearly advertising his distaste for his interrupted lunch. Out of the corner of his eyes he watched as the sneer became an unhappy scowl, his own smirk increasing. A sigh was registered by the dog through a flick of his ear.
Licking his maw for no apparent reason as no scraps had gotten caught in his wiry muzzle, the canine turned to the two once again. None were infecteds, that was good. They were both loners though, Scruff had yet to see the two faces before and they were evidently not part of Risk's pack. Or maybe the brown, brindle mutt just decided not to pay attention to his peers. They held little interest for him.
"And why are you both interrupting my lunch." The dog warily acknowledged the small, long canine. Scruff wasn't keen on sharing. Call him selfish, but unless one had earned his trust and faith the canine gave little heed to a stranger's well being.
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Post by shadowthin on Feb 18, 2012 16:57:53 GMT -8
"Hi mister Daschund", Shadow said, with a fairly neutral tone. He wasn't particularly fond of Pogi, but didn't hate him either. He'd even recognize that the little dog had some qualities, once you went through his opportunistic side and manners. Shadow thought that the daschund wouldn't have survived that long if he hadn't been who he was.
Still half lying on the trailer's roof, Shadow took a look at the other dog. An odd brown coated mixed wolfhound, uninfected from what Shadow's nose could tell him, but something didn't really match. The newcomer's eyes wasn't exactly telling him the same, yellow tainted as they were. Or well, the eye, he could say, noticing now that his right eye wasn't there anymore. The stranger was seemingly not as tall as Shadow, although he was thicker, and was looking like he had have a pretty long -and not necessary pleasant- life experience. He also pretty surprisingly noticed that the wolfhound had his left leg missing.
Shadow's mood darkened a bit, between what he was seeing and the questions the stranger had asked him about who he was and why he had interrupted his lunch. But from all that he showed nothing, and only someone looking straight at his eyes could have known what he was thinking. Still keeping his neutral tone -and his odd scattered voice- he barked: "Well, talking about interruption, i could say you interrupted my rest... However there's something familiar in your scent, even if i can't put a paw on it." Shadow got interrupted by a harsh cough. How usual... he ruefully thought.
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Post by Starmuttani on Feb 20, 2012 12:53:40 GMT -8
The moment when the wiry haired Wolfhound turned to study the Borzoi, Pogi decided that was a good time as any to see what he was up against. His own chocolate brown eyes scanned over the large dog and raised a curious eyebrow at the realization that this particular one was a tripod. To what it looks like, his left forelimb is completely torn away which left an ugly stump in its place. It certainly wasn't easy to not stare for a minute or two. This Dachshund could not image what it was like to lose a limb. In fact, Pogi knew that he'd be in big trouble should he met the same fate- unfortunately, his breed's size would've made it an impossibility to survive with just three legs. Pogi also couldn't tell if this scruffy dog is just a very messy creature naturally or that he's been through so many battles that left him to look so deranged. The strange thin furs and possibly bald spots raked into the neck and shoulders tells Pogi that it was possible the answer was both.
Already, this Dachshund immediately knew that this was not the dog to mess with. Many of the stray dogs are tough as they have to be built as such to survive the streets, but the aura on this one... Pogi nearly had to shiver. He felt dangerous.
Just as the Wolfhound whipped his head to face Pogi, he felt his smooth hair raise up higher along his spine if possible. Of course, the menacing growl that did continued didn't help to defuse the tension. When he met the one-eyed glare, the Dachshund felt his assumption was silently confirmed. To go so far as to lose a leg and an eye, one would go through a great amount of trauma and the harsh reality of the real world. Regardless of the words spoken, there was still a mutual feelings of understanding about suffering and scars. A tattered ear twitched at the question that was addressed to him and the Borzoi both, Pogi narrowed his eyes. If this large dog hasn't made an effort to attack, it meant that he still have a chance to work it out in his favor... Which meant it was time for his louder-than-action charms.
"Who, me?" Surprising enough, Pogi's voice was as smooth as chocolate syrup; "I am just another dog passing by. Surely, as a location as this which supply endless entertainment and perhaps food, you wouldn't think you'd be the only one here." Even though his voice was steady and held a certain trusting quality to it, Pogi was quite nervous. His heart hammered hard and fast in his deep chest; there was no saying as to what might happen next with this seemingly aggressive dog. Still, he was not about to allow himself to crack. This Dachshund had dealt with far worse situations than this and his ways with words had saved his barbed tail multiple times.
Oddly enough, this was ironic. The last time his words had aided him was in this same exact location with this same exact dog who was currently higher than them all. Apparently, he had killed a rat which a yellow Labrador had her eyes on, but because he kept his wits about him and dished out his words with ease, Pogi was able to get away with no teeth bared and his dinner. Perhaps his luck will hold out again. However, at the reminder of this, Pogi still felt annoyed when the Borzoi called him 'mister Dachshund'. "Greetings to you too, mister Borzoi." Pogi responded back with a touch of sarcasm.
As his brown eyes darted back to the main ruckus, Pogi caught the moment when the wiry haired dog gave him a 'do-you-have-a-problem' expression. He couldn't suppress the flicker of annoyance in his intelligent mind again. 'I wouldn't be surprised if this brute is just another dumb animal.' the Dachshund thought to himself, but decided to keep his wary eyes on him anyway. It's merely a precaution. After all, he had met Shadow before and he was definitely not a brave one when confronting strangers. In fact, Pogi would go the length to say that he doesn't feel a little bit threatened.
Suddenly, the scruffy dog went right back into his leather! Sharp canines tore at the piece again and again while unpleasant sounds rumbled out of him upon his swallows. Watching this display made Pogi think of a starved rat being introduced to a life supply of cheese. If it had been meat, his small body would have been filled with envy from his whiskers down to his paws. However... because it was just any ordinary leather that could be found anywhere in this Junkyard, Pogi's stomach turned in his disgust. Talk about no standards... Even if the Dachshund was malnourished and weak, he'd still turn up his nose at objects that was not made for eating. He deserves better than that, but clearly, this mutt doesn't share the same thoughts.
Upon being asked about why they were interrupting his lunch, Pogi noticed the heavy exaggeration in his tone and couldn't hold back his sneer. "Oh do believe me when I say that I wouldn't want a bite of your delicious leather..." The Dachshund smartly answered with an edge of sarcasm; even that may not be a wise thing to say, it should be enough to reassure that strange mutt that he wasn't there for his 'food'. However, there was another thing he noticed. While Pogi had seen a lot of odd variety of dog breeds in this city- this Borzoi being an excellent example- this Wolfhound felt really out of place. It could be that the thickness of his fur would make living in a city uncomfortable. In fact, wouldn't a winter scenery be more appropriate? "I'm surprised you aren't somewhere else right now, taking down a moose or something."
However, Pogi's nostrils quivered at a faint yet familiar scent of meat and turned his head in Shadow's direction. Were those bones of rats lying by his paws? His own stomach grumbled quietly in his hunger and a pink tongue slurped at his lips to stop himself from salivating. He nearly missed what the Borzoi said to the mutt, but at the sudden harsh cough, Pogi jerked his head. He quickly remembered that from their last meeting, Shadow had assured them that he was not one of the Infected due to an injury to his voice. "Just to clarify, you're still not sick. Correct?" Pogi asked with a suspicious tone. The last thing this Dachshund need is to be confronted by two large flesh-driven beasts, even if one of them is supposedly sane.
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Post by Ridge on Feb 20, 2012 14:28:16 GMT -8
An invisible brow raised as the Borzoi suggested some familiarity between the two. As far as he knew, he'd never seen such a dog nor heard the voice. "I can assure you we've never met before." The dog barked up to Shadow. A growl caught in his throat as the dog coughed. Scruff looked over the dog again, reassessing him, trying to find the signs of infection. As far as he could tell though... the dog was 'sane.' Hackles lowered slightly as he confirmed the fact to himself. Yellow eye than turned to the dachshund, checking for anything he'd missed. It seemed the small dog had also seen better days.. Scarred, his tail mixed with human wire. Ear torn. Hard to imagine how such a small dog could have received such wounds. Lip curled up in a sneer though as the dog's voice became honey like. He generally didn't trust anyone in general, but those who started sweet turned out to be sour.
Amusement flickered in his gaze though as it was confirmed the two dogs knew one another. Recognizing the dog had claimed he'd interrupted the Borzoi's nap, pink tongue lolled out. "I guess I'm interrupting a meeting as well. Oops." He wasn't one who made friends or went out of his way to get another's approval. What you see is what you get. It was a motto that described the scraggly mutt to the fullest extent. He looked hard, harsh and probably came off as none to friendly.
"Oh do believe me when I say that I wouldn't want a bite of your delicious leather..." Scruff's grin increased to what could only be described as Cheshire cat grin. "And believe me when infecteds feed on your starving corpse I'll be hear. Not picky and full." A little dark? Yep, but Scruff wasn't that subtle and he definitely didn't beat around the bush. At the moos comment the grin remained though thought appeared in his yellow eye.
"Not to far off the mark there. " Scruff's tongue lolled out again and the dog stood up, full 28 in to the shoulder. Paws sank slightly into the even more broken couch. "Though I never did get into the habit of hunting moose. Dogs were suitable." A wicked grin appeared on the large canine's face. It seemed impossible to tell if he was pulling their leg or about to bite it off. Figuratively... of course. His battle scars didn't exactly disprove the idea, though being an uninfected might have suggested other wise. He'd done his fair share of killing.
Ears perked as he heard the growling of the dachshund's stomach, a scoff accompanying his grin. Though he did watch the Borzoi for his answers. Maybe he was sick, just not with the infection. Maybe a minor illness... or contagious illness. Something Scruff really didn't need. You'd think a dog who lives on the street wouldn't be so picky. The dog scoffed in his head, regarding Pogi's assumed picky appetite. Scruff, though, had been brought up differently where food was food - live or frozen- you ate what you got. Scruff continued to follow that life lesson and it had yet to serve him wrong. What was some Prissy dachshund to change that?
((ooc: Ani, I love you're posts! Long and detailed :3 ))
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Post by shadowthin on Feb 20, 2012 15:47:09 GMT -8
Shadow raised a lip at Pogi's words about his sickness. "Sick? Didn't i already tell and show you? Or maybe you would prefer your sausage body to check it from my insides?", he sarcastically asked the daschund in a suggestive whisper. Even if he'd recognize that one would be safer from always asking, Shadow was tired of that. Especially when he had been just awaken from his rest. Clearly not something he'd appreciated. But also, he was laughing into himself about the clearly disgusting face the daschund was make will starring at the other's piece of leather. Especially when he had already eaten some rats. He cleaned of the roof the few well eaten bones left. After all, he was done with it. From what he had heard, even if Pogi would never "lower his standards", like he was always saying, it would be funny to see his reaction.
Turning his head towards the tripod wolfhound, he starred a bit more at him before answering. The dog had been seriously injured. But he wasn't to take under the paw either. In fact, as Pogi had said, one could have easily imagining the tripod hunting for mooses and such animals, if he was fast enough. But he was apparently seeming as strong enough for a wild prey hunt. Shadow got up pretty lazily, shacked his long flat coat and stretch himself, to set him lying down in a sphinx position. "Right, we never met before, you aren't exactly the type one would easily forget. But you smell like this subterranean and wet place. I guess my nose hadn't be able to deal with the scent there." He was whispering, trying to save up what's left he had from his voice.
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Post by Starmuttani on Feb 20, 2012 17:06:51 GMT -8
It was quite of a mystery how the Borzoi was so convinced that he and this scruffy mutt had met before, even if he just confirmed that they had not. With one last hard stare at the Wolfhound, any dog must be out of their mind to forget this raggedy character whose missing a leg and an eye! Of course, his hard-ass attitude was just a cherry on top. As a sneer curled on the bigger dog's lip, Pogi kept himself planted firm to the ground and tipped his head up to hold it up high. As far as he knew, he hasn't said anything terribly offensive. However, this Dachshund knew that the moment he allowed his guard down and break the tension, he was done for. In Pogi's mind, showing a sign of weakness is basically saying that he's showing sign of an easy prey... And he is confident that he won't be giving either dogs that satisfaction.
Upon the scruffy mutt's silly sarcasm as to 'interrupting a meeting', the Dachshund's lip stretched into a small smirk. He was not at all put off by that statement; in fact, he had welcomed the rude intrusion. Shadow had proven himself to be a rather boring dog to Pogi the last time they had met. Here was a dog who was so desperate to find a pack, but could not even muster up a courage to stand his ground in front of two females and one small male. Of course, his persona seems to have changed completely for this oddity of a situation. This time around, it appears that the Borzoi was actually trying to sound brave. Of course, him being placed on higher grounds could be an easy self-esteem booster. Pogi will admit, he had not expected Shadow's aggressive response as an answer to his honest question.
"Oh, excuse me." Pogi responded with equally snippy tone, actually doesn't appeared to be fazed; "I wasn't aware that coughing falls under symptoms of having your throat ripped out." Sure enough, he has not forgotten the ugly scar Shadow carries around on his neck. But what do he care? Pogi is carrying his own battle wounds, completely obvious to the public eye, but Shadow doesn't see him complaining about it. There was a small irritation at the word 'sausage', but who is he to deny that fact? Pogi is a purebred Dachshund, through and through, and as a proud carrier of the genes, it doesn't rub him the wrong way. If it did, he'd be cranky every time someone calls him a 'wiener dog' when they couldn't think of his breed's identity. Like Borzoi's strange genetics of having a face that resembles a horse, Pogi is very much aware of his own strange genetics of looking like a sausage.
Oh, what is this now? The Dachshund turned his eyes up at the tripod mutt as he talks of being full and not picky as to regarding his standards for food. It was Pogi's turn to raise up an invisible eyebrow. It was quite unnerving to see such a wicked insane smile, but as long as there are distance between the two of them, Pogi felt safe. Temporarily. "Of course. The Infected wouldn't want to chew on something whose insides are made of leather and bleach." The Dachshund spat back with venom. It was clear that when challenging this one to a game of words, he wasn't about to back down. After all, Pogi believed that he is much more clever and more intelligent then these two brutes combined. After all, his tongue is his favored weapon that doesn't require to spill blood. "Not there is anything wrong with eating man-made junk for a living. More power to you." Pogi quickly added, as to not to completely step on toes, "I just prefer something more... satisfying."
True, one would think a stray dog living on the streets wouldn't be so picky about what it eats. But Pogi's been born and raised; he learned that he didn't HAVE to eat just about anything to get by. All it took was a plan and he'd have anything he wants! Of course, that was before the damned Infected overshadowed the city. Every human was paranoid. Every human was prepared to kill a dog, even if he was only attempting to steal so much of a chip from their snack bags. Hence... the Dachshund's fall-back plan of appearing in the Junkyard. He'll take rats over leather any day. Of course, Pogi was not looking to change the opinions of others. Let them lower themselves to bugs and eat trash. That was the choice they've made and Pogi couldn't care less. It was just disgusting to witness a creature, related by canine blood, pigging out on filth as if they struck gold. Generations from being wolves has reduced to... well... this.
"I'm sure you agree as well." The Dachshund turned to face Shadow who just cleared off his precious roof top free of rat bones. His tattered ear again twitched at the sounds of the bones clinked against metal tins down below. If this Borzoi had hunted the rats in this area, surely there must be more nearby... If he would just extract himself from these two dogs and ensuring his escape.
However, things just turned darker upon the scruffy mutt's statements about hunting moose and preferring other dogs. Pogi's lip puckered his uncertainty as he mumbles, "Fascinating." In all honesty, he wasn't sure if the stranger was sharing the truth or just wanted to scare them, but he figures if he goes with a neutral answer, it wasn't a good or a bad response. Of course, there was no doubt in Pogi's mind that this tough character had done some kills in his lifetime. Which is why he was hoping to get out of this scratch-free.
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Post by Ridge on Feb 20, 2012 17:56:47 GMT -8
"I'll take that as a compliment." Scruff nodded to the large Borzoi. It was true, one really didn't forget someone with his mutilated looks or bad temper. Especially those back home. "And you're right. I come from a place where it's normally very cold. snowy, and I used to pull a sled with humans and supplies." Scruff said openly. The mutt was quite proud of his past. It was nothing he'd hide, though he couldn't shake the feeling that the rules of thumb there were a lot harsher than here. Evidenced by the finicky dachshund. Another grin to the small dog though as he added sarcasm and than tried to make up for it. Scruff had no intent on attacking the purebred. Yet.
"That's one less corpse they can eat. And human junk or food that's hard to come by when infecteds run the town and humans hate every canine they come across? Take your pick." The mutt continued nonchalantly, shrugging his massive shoulders. "Let's send you to Alaska and see how you fare." The mutt grinned mockingly at the dog. "And better for sharp teeth." The mutt grinned, leaping off his chair landing with a barely audible 'oof' and puff of dust. He was fully satisfied even though his belly wasn't full. It seemed the leather might stick in his stomach longer, the better for him. The less hungry he was the less likely he was to take chances and get himself killed. Or worse. Infected. He'd never want the demented state of mind and was severely irritated at his own vulnerability. It didn't mean he'd go out fighting or if saw one of the demented beasts he'd turn tail. He'd live up to his reputation.
The mangy mutt was sure to keep both dogs in sight of his good eye. The mutt could already feel general dislike for the tiny dog. Battle scarred as he was, he didn't appear to be a fighter, his honey voice going to further his own, civil manner. Scruff himself preferred more savagery as his roots were bound closer to those of his wild ancestors and brethren. He was a mean character if his wounds didn't already show that. He'd actually almost torn off his missing leg himself. Gotten into a fight to the death at the age of one and had entered countless other fights whether it was 1 on 1 or if the dog had fallen and he was a mere member of the pack pouncing in to finish the deed. He wasn't a moral character either.
A throaty laugh came from his throat at the dog's neutral reply. "So where are both of you delightful creatures from?" The canine asked standing before the dachshund and looking to the Borzoi. "And battle scars or accidents?" The canine asked again looking at the wounds on both. He wasn't one who particularly cared about everyone's past but these seemed to be two interesting characters. Not to say he'd listened to everything they'd have to say, just the important bits. Anything to tell him more of their characters. Whether he'd run into them again or not and if it'd be an encounter like this as it sure wouldn't be all too pleasant.
"And I'm sure an infected would love to chew on a dachshund full of human treats. Not to mention one who's probably crossed many in his lifetime." Scruff's eye seemed to look at the dachshund with a dark tone that didn't quite go with the wicked smile on his face. Scruff himself was a shady creature. Shady though in his manipulative, aggressive nature. Though the dachshund wasn't altogether unlike the mutt however much the small dog would be loathe to admit it. Both valued their lives and survived by any means.
Scruff though survived without morals that plagued him or by a finicky nature. He'd given up all rights to civility and a more modern form of survival. He was still the dog from the Alaskan ranges just modified to keep up with the area's hunting. The male also doubted that any of the canines here had survived on the 'husky's rations.' His being made of mostly fish, frozen to a certain degree at the end of a hard day's work, going many miles pulling many pounds. Though Scruff did not admit this, they didn't ask he didn't tell. As the dog continued to move, fidget a little at standing still his missing limb moved as if it had an invisible leg attached, helping the tripod on his way. It seemed amazing at what muscle memory was capable of. If only a bit disturbing.
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Post by shadowthin on Feb 21, 2012 16:08:17 GMT -8
"I guess i could make you feel more aware about ripped out throat's symptoms", Shadow stated a bit ironically, while he got up again. Although the tripod was surly for some interest, but Pogi's snarky remarks were somehow tiring. Especially about things he had already got some explanations about. He let a slight grin appearing while he heard the daschund asking him if he was agree with him about food standards. "Yes, i sure am agree, i have nothing against a little hunt before lunch", he whispered, coming closer to Pogi's position. Not that he would harm him, but that still would be funny to chase a bit him if however he decided to run.
Shadow slightly laughed when the tripod suggested the idea to send Pogi in Alaska. He had no idea what Alaska was, but apparently it was a very snowy place, and it would had been fun to see the sausage dog in several inches of snow. Returning to his usual seriousness mood, he listened at the tripod statements and questions. "I'm from here, but i haven't spent all my life in this cursed town. Went in Montana a winter, then i got to come back around here... And well, my scars... guess one could say that came from an accidental meeting with some infecteds. But they're no more here to tell so", he stated, still whispering, with an evident disgust talking about these cursed ones. "What about you?" Even tough and seemingly not really friendly, the tripod was still pretty interesting, from Shadow's point of view.
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Post by Starmuttani on Feb 22, 2012 15:13:32 GMT -8
As the dogs settled into their conversations, Pogi can't help but to be mildly confused. Apparently, these two dogs must be bored out of their minds or otherwise, this would've ended the moment he approached the scene. Well, particularly the raggedy Wolfhound who decided that a car seat was dinner time. However, the Dachshund knew that he was blessed that he wasn't attacked... yet. If this is a game of torment-the-prey, this sausage-shaped dog refuses to be part of it. He knew that he may not have the speed of a Borzoi or the power of a Wolfhound hybrid, but he likes to think that he is quick in his ability to make smart decisions. As a stray dog who had made trips to the land of filth to hunt for rats, the Junkyard is plentiful with nooks and crannies where large dogs can't get their fat heads into when Pogi could slip away safely. While he felt comfortable with that escape plan, Pogi still held up his guard suspiciously. His muscles tensed and ready to flee if necessary. Much like the scruffy Wolfhound, Pogi couldn't care less what others thought of him if he turns out to be a coward. After all, a coward is the one who is most likely gets away with their life. That is the ideal plan!
Of course, it may help to not taunt the dogs who has the power to snap his neck. Yet, Pogi kept the thought of the distance between the two. By the time that Borzoi would even get down to the ground to attack, the Dachshund would have already been long gone into the trash piles. This Shadow was definitely more interesting than the last time they had met. There was a brief moment of annoyance as Shadow made a remark about ripped throats; obviously hinting the fact that he has the ability to do... That if, he could get his teeth on the Dachshund. "Ah, reducing yourself to threats. How mature." Pogi answered flatly. Talk about a huge case of pot calling the kettle black. If this Borzoi is oh-so tired of the 'snarky' responses, perhaps he should stop provoking the Dachshund for more. 'Honestly...' These two dogs had only met once before; it never hurts to ask in a precaution but clearly, to this Borzoi, it's offensive. '...Maybe he should become a mute altogether if he's so annoyed with a simple question.' The Dachshund rolled his eyes at the thought.
However, it appears that it was a funny idea for Shadow to move closer towards Pogi upon his roof top. Once again, the Dachshund took comfort in the fact that he would be gone by the time the lazy dog reaches to him. The momentum of the leap from the roof top would be far too great for a perfect solid landing and proceed to give chase. Still, Pogi did inched away from his position by a few steps, but he once again grounded himself firmly. With a disinterested tone, he acknowledged Shadow's words: "At least you agree." The small dog was very aware of the playful 'threat', but Pogi knew that nothing is more annoying than have an intention to fail in their face.
With another twitch of his tattered ear, Pogi fastened his eyes upon the shaggy dog as he spoke of coming from a cold winter-land. Well, that had explained a lot about his odd appearance which was equipped with such a thick coat and a tough attitude. A winter wasteland sounds like a harsh environment to survive in. Pogi was sure that he would not last in that sort of scenery and he wasn't ashamed of the fact. However, he couldn't find the respect for the dog if he thinks it's easier to live in the city then the snow; especially with all the crazed diseased-ridden dogs around every corner and wants to eat their own kin alive. Unless the Wolfhound had to worry about bears around every tree... Then in that case, props to him. "Ah. Associated with the humans, did you..." Pogi muttered in his obvious disdain rather than an actual question. There was no denying it; he hated the ape creatures with every fiber of his body and that hatred may have rolled off his tongue. However, he hasn't heard of humans using dogs as horses. He would have easily assumed that to be more of the Borzoi's job. Growing up in a city that's usually so hot and dry, it is a rare case to hear any news from the ice. With an effort to keep sarcasm out of his tone, he genuinely asked; "So, what, you were like a mule on the snow?"
While he was sure he hasn't offended the Wolfhound, Pogi couldn't help but to chuckle in his amusement at the description of the scenario. "I see you have been around long enough to understand the condition of the city. Impressive on doing that homework. Regardless, I have enough street intelligence that has helped me avoid the Infected... AND fill my stomach. So yes... That is my 'pick' and I shall stick with it." He kept his head up high and his eyes carefully fixed on the scruffy one, Pogi responded back with the same nonchalant tone. "I don't understand why you continue to badger the issue when I have survived for so long. Especially when it's so clear that you shall stick with your choice of eating cars." The same smirk on his muzzle remains, even as the mutt mocked in a return and made a statement about sending Pogi to Alaska. Is this dog really going to challenge this? Pogi may manipulate facts, but one thing is certain, this Dachshund is not an idiot. "I suppose you had hoped that I would make a fool of myself and say that I could... Sorry to disappoint." Even though his sensitive hearing picked up the faint laughter from the Borzoi, Pogi chose to ignore it. Let them think their childish ways and tossing the sausage dog into the snow, but they'll have an even harder time to actually prove it. If it does actually snows in the city, it rarely piles up higher than himself. "Naturally, that is where I will become of a disadvantage. My body is simply not built to survive the harsh winters, unlike your shaggy coat can provide for you." He finished with a triumph nod of his head.
However, there was a moment of unpleasant surprise when the tripod canine had braved a jump and landed on the same level as the Dachshund's. Pogi couldn't suppress a warning growl that vibrated in his throat and felt his smooth fur raise along his spine yet again. He even allowed himself to back away a few more steps. While this scruffy dog hasn't made any intentions nor shown any aggressive body language that he wants to hurt him, Pogi still likes to be prepared rather than sorry. Basically, he was the Wolfhound when Pogi had intrude onto his dinner. Both value their lives and will take measures to defend it, even against a harmless surprise. Regardless, it was an impressive move and how the stranger just drew himself back up as if it was nothing. Clearly, missing one limb would not slow this mutt down and put enough effort to continue the conversation! Even though the Dachshund was and still is wary of the Wolfhound, Pogi could see that he seems to be genuinely interested in him and Shadow. Already, in Pogi's suspicious mind, he thought of two options that this tripod has planned. Either he is attempting to learn more about the citizen of the streets so he is more prepared should they ever meet up again... or attempting to lull them into a false sense of security and then attack when either dog's guard is down. Nothing is more dangerous than an unpredictable dog, but Pogi felt ready to handle either situation. He dared not to look away, not even for a second.
It had helped to ease his fur to flatten and silence his voice when Shadow proceeded to answer the Wolfhound's question. It did miffed the Dachshund a little on how he took all this in a stride and be so bold to ask about scars. At last a major difference appears; unlike the tripod who seems to get off from talking about himself, Pogi isn't keen on the idea of exposing his past to complete strangers. As he was a coward in a dogfight, he was a coward to his own past. Suddenly, there was a fact he had learned of Shadow that surprised Pogi. This Borzoi was actually from the same city! The Dachshund had to wonder why he hasn't seen him around much before, even if he did not lived in the streets for all his life. There was only one logical excuse he could think of... 'Humans... Both of them were pets.' He had to admit, while he was not fond of humans, it is rather difficult to find a pure stray dog who had been born on the streets like this Dachshund did. Pogi gave a small inaudible snort, but chose to not ask Shadow to expand on his history. What does it matter anyway? They'll just return to strangers once they are finished here... Of course... Once again, with hopes for without blood spills. Since the question was directed to both of them, Pogi gave a careless shrug of his shoulder as he gave a short answer as to not to give wiggle room to talk about himself. "I was born and raised on these city's streets."
As much as the Dachshund did not want to admit, this conversation as to discover who the other dogs are is actually interesting. It gave Pogi enough idea as to who he is dealing with on his paws and certainly useful to remember next time should they meet... He would hope not, but life is full of ironic fates and Pogi did not question that logic. Though, Shadow did brought about an invisible raised eyebrow from the Dachshund as he explained about his scars. 'Accidental? From what I learned from this dog, anything is accidental apparently.' However, Pogi was smart to hold his tongue and allowed the Borzoi to finish his tale. While this Dachshund was not the type to share about his history, there was something even more that he'd rather not reveal too much details about and that was about his scars. Those were the horrible times and gave him a good excuse to hate these miserable humans all that much more.
Pogi's chocolate brown eyes hardened as he stared right back at the Wolfhound's singular judgmental eye. Even though the tripod seems to have a difficult time of remaining still, it did not waver his intense attention. With a callous tone, the dachshund responded with only one word- "Torture."
And that was that. Pogi said nothing else and from his tone, he clearly did not want to go into it. Not that they don't have anything else to discuss about. If this Wolfhound wants to be open and prance about how much of a tough guy he is, Shadow had presented him a question that would allow him to brag about his battle scars. Unlike Pogi's scars, this scruffy tripod doesn't seem to be so stingy about the topic.
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Post by Ridge on Feb 22, 2012 17:25:24 GMT -8
Scruff had nothing to hide from the Borzoi or dachshund and after listening to both of their stories decided in his short life it might appear he'd had a hell of a lot more thrown at him. Or maybe just a little thrown at him but in a large dose. Both had lived on the streets and probably here their entire lives. In a way Scruff saw this as sad. They'd seen little more than what the streets and humans had to offer. Yellow eye looked at the dachshund curiously though, his terse reply not satisfying the mutt's idea of getting information. Though he was a stranger to both it just seemed like the two large dogs had a little less demons to face. The mutt decided to answer the Borzoi first about his own past.
"Like I said I'm from a pretty snowy place. Dogs and people there aren't the nicest." Sending a glance to the dachshund as if trying to answer his 'mule' question as well and conveying the 'pay attention' thought. "I pulled a sled with some other dogs. We traveled a long ways each day." He kept his head in the present, not losing himself to a flashback as most others seemed to try. "One year into the game me and some other dog got in a fight and lost my eye. The dogs there, we fight different. One on one, slash and rip, circle, etc. Everyone else is in a circle around. First one down, loose your feet and everyone else jumps in and you're dog chunks." The short epitaph of many the dogs Scruff and others had killed in the cold life. "At 2 I got in another fight, not like it was my second one and same thing happened except I lost my leg." The dog wiggled the missing appendage. A sly grin slipping to his face. "Not my last either."
Whipping his head to the dachshund again, eye gleaming curiously. The dog didn't like humans? He wasn't a fan as the relationship between them was beneficial to both. His owner fed him and worked him he carried his owners supplies and only killed those who had it coming. Giving a toothy grin, the dog crooned, "Isn't it every dog's dream to finally catch a car? I'm taking it a step further, I'm eating them." Scruff continued to listen to the purebred's mini speech of himself. Scruff could not dismiss the thought that finickiness of food fit well with any lifestyle. The stout dog probably didn't get how the Wolfhound was used to eating. Anything. "Make a fool of yourself? At least you admit you wouldn't be able to."
"Torture?" The dog took a step closer, doing a semi circle around the canine and surveying his injuries. "I take it not from any dog. It doesn't look like teeth did that to you're ear and a cat or dog wouldn't cause the scars on you're muzzle. To irregular and not in the right places to fight my fighting style." The dog confirmed and assumed it was one of the many hurts humans could bring. He decided not to speak aloud though.
Wiry haired mutt was amused by the two severely different dogs and if he was one who made friends he might have found himself trying to do so with the Borzoi, Shadow. As it was though Scruff found others lacked the enjoyment in his company. Who could blame them? He wasn't likeable by any means and didn't try to change his attitude for others. He was also manipulative, pushy, cocky and many other unlike able traits. His aggressive tendencies and normal attack first ask later attitude when it came to his right side and infecteds wasn't exactly the life style friends would submit themselves too.
He looked at the Borzoi though, it seemed Shadow was immune something the Wolfhound mutt was jealous of. They could have one more eye, one more leg, he was able to make up for that, his injuries unable to deter him from anything other dogs could do. But immunity. He couldn't make up for that, he would fight use his wits to kill, speed to keep blood off of him. His lack of friends could easily take him out seeing as the canine wouldn't be too keen on living with the virus and a demented state of mind. Though it was always nice to take out some pent up aggression or boredom on the infected canines. Fast and out of their teeth they really couldn't catch him. Three legs, still running and fighting.
Single, yellow eye watched Borzoi and dachshund. The Borzoi seemed much more comfortable, though he had the advantage of a higher position amongst the two. While Pogi and Scruff were on the same level.
"I don't believe any of us have introduced ourselves. I'm Scruff." He continued nonchalantly remaining before the dachshund, it was his best way to keep close to the animal if it tried anything and was his way of keeping Borzoi in sight. He had a natural distrust for all others. Even in a team of dogs where he worked together everyday slept near and were with for most of his life he stole food from them, killed some, and attacked them. He seemed shady, was shady and his only standards in life were those that enabled him to survive any where. He'd kill, steal, harm others in order to ensure his survival.
His one flaw though, was his pack nature. He excluded himself from the pack and was never really close to them, yet he was apart of them. It offered territory, food, and though he had to ensure their safety, a safe place to sleep was ensured. He didn't have to watch his back as carefully. His relationships were those of benefit to him. Ultimately it had never served him wrong. Though his peers never seemed to be fond of him and he to them. It seemed the same might go for the tiny dog with his own battle scars.
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Post by shadowthin on Feb 24, 2012 5:31:25 GMT -8
At Pogi's words about his maturity, Shadow couldn't help but slightly grin. As annoying the daschund could be sometimes, he was also kind of funny. Of course and despite the words he've just been saying, he wouldn't have hunt down the sausage dog without a really good reason, and that wasn't anywhere close to the idea he had of a good reason. Coming out from nothing, he suddenly thought about sausages... Pogi could say what he wanted, human food was sometimes not that bad. However it still was less fun to hunt sausages than rats.
He continued to listen about Pogi's word with a seemingly absent-minded ear, till the daschund summarizes his story in a single world. That only half-surprised him. Even the infected and their rotten minds didn't do that, or at least no that way. " 'Seems that most of the humans have learnt nothing..." he whispered, more for himself, with a point of disgust. Of course there were some good ones, he was a good example of that the humans weren't always there to spread the worst of themselves. But the old man was -had been- a particularity...
He also listened at the wolfhound, with more attention. He didn't like so much the idea of pulling a sled. The borzoi was really preferring to be free from this kind of thing, even if he was knowing that his own breed has been used to pull sleds also, in the country they were originally coming from. Anyway, the mentions of the fights the wolfhound had been involved to, and how he'd lost his eye and leg, confirmed his thoughts about how tough the dog was. Maybe it would be worthy to take a closer look.
He took a lazy look at the ground behind the trail, then pulling himself he jumped from it, landing on the ground with the grace and lightness of a cat. He quickly turned his gaze on the wolfhound again, remaining a bit more cautious. At least he knew Pogi, and this one was apparently not the kind to attack without reason. But even if the wolfhound had finally told them his name, Scruff -which was fairly well matching with his appearance-, this one was still a stranger at Shadow's eyes, as long he hadn't prove himself. "You can call me Shadow", he simply stated.
[Pffft, sorry for the time it took me x.x ]
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Post by Starmuttani on Feb 26, 2012 18:07:45 GMT -8
It was true. This Dachshund had never left the city's borders, but there was really never an excuse or a reason. Call him boring or uninteresting, but Pogi likes to be surrounded with things he actually recognized and felt comfortable with. A sudden new place would be too much and overwhelming; a stress that he certainly doesn't need in his life. Besides, why leave the very place where he knows how to survive? On the outside, the city looked monotonous and dirty during the day while bleak and dreary at night, but it shares its own secrets and adventures. A dog would have to look for it to find the treasures. While this Wolfhound certainly seems like he had gone through a lot, Pogi is confident that he had lived through plenty of adventures that most dogs wouldn't go through with in their single lifetime as well. In fact, he could tell stories for hours if he wanted to. Only except no one even knows who he really is. There isn't a soul that the Dachshund could even trust to express about his life. Pogi is a mystery dog and, in his mind, it was better off that way.
It came as a no surprise to Pogi when the Wolfhound was rattling off about himself when asked the question. At the mention of coming from a place where nobody is nice, Pogi gave a small unimpressed snort. 'Cry me a river, mister tough dog...' was the annoyed thought that raced in his mind and he couldn't resist to roll his chocolate eyes skyward. The living souls in this city wasn't the 'nicest' either; paranoids accusing him of being Infected when he shows no symptoms, fighting other dogs for scraps of food, cars speeding around corners without any regards for anybody on the crossing paths, teenage humans getting their 'fun' from kicking species smaller than them, and the list drags on. Oh, the Infected roaming the streets and murdering innocent lives was just the delicious cherry on top. However, despite all that, they haven't exactly seen Pogi complain about it. He had learned how to deal with it and take it all in a stride. Or maybe what this scruffy dog had hoped for was to gain some respect from his fellow canine kin. With a brief casual glance over to the listening Borzoi and noticed the attention in his face, perhaps the plan had worked. Regardless if Shadow got some measly respect for the Wolfhound or not, Pogi didn't plan on to dish it out either. After all, respect is to be earned.
Of course, the firm tone did not go over the Dachshund's head as a warning to pay attention while the Wolfhound explains his situation in the past. Honestly, it really didn't put down the idea. After all, even if the scruff dog only pulled sleds, he still technically carried supplies for the humans. 'Heh... So, basically like a mule then.' As Pogi was tempted to say it out loud, he decided that it was probably in his best interest to keep his muzzle shut. As the tripod mutt goes on to brag about his battle scars and describe his experience in losing his leg and eye, Pogi's lungs compressed into a bored sigh. He knew that he should be more attentive to the story, but it wasn't like he heard those type of stories before. When a dog is a stray, they are bound to come across a dog who had it worse off. Clearly, in this case, the mutt had it worse off then Pogi and Shadow combined, but the Dachshund didn't care. It is his philosophy that whatever happened in the past should stay in the past- as it was clear in his answers to the questions that spoke of his history.
Of course, with a history as traumatic as Pogi's, it isn't an easy task to just forget the events. As a stray who suffers from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, there are dangers of triggers that can and will send him into fetal position. He had been lucky that many did not see him in his weak moments and he had intended to keep it that way. Besides, there was no way in hell that he would allow the Wolfhound and Shadow see him like that pathetic. To help the cause, it was best to not talk of things of the past. However, Pogi will have to admit. He does wonder if the mutt regretted the things he did. Had nightmares about the fights. Perhaps even miss his leg or sight? Or perhaps, the Wolfhound is being an arrogant jerk to cover that insecurities up. Whatever the case may be, Pogi will never know, but one thing is certain... the Wolfhound actually appears to be proud of his scars. In fact, he seems to be willing to gain more battle scars if he could. If that was the kind of dog he wants to be, then good for him. If he wants to be that dog who can eat anything, great. Pogi just fails to see why the mutt had to be on his case about his food preference as it had nothing to do with the stranger. "Uh huh..." were Pogi's emotionless response to the tripod's statement about foolishness.
Suddenly, things have taken a turn for worse. As the tripod hobbled around Pogi in a semicircle and expressed out loud his thoughts on his own scars, the Dachshund felt his hackles raise in a warning. There was a reason why he had kept his answer short and to the point. There was a reason why he chose to not go into details. But he could not deny it either. Why deny the truth when it was so obvious? "Clever, aren't you?" Pogi muttered as a response, so that he does not have to confirm nor deny the tripod mutt. Clearly, there are tension between the two dogs. Both are similar in ways that could be beneficial, but are too stubborn to be willing to work together. It would be easy for a dog to befriend Shadow, but to befriend Pogi is like trying to breathe underwater without gills; incredibly difficult to do. Much like the scruffy mutt, Pogi was much too self-centered to care for others. There is a risk in putting others first and that was something not very idealistic for this Dachshund. It was so much easier to lie and run. Though, sometimes, he had to wonder why. Perhaps he's just that greedy and wants to keep on surviving... Then again, he had known a heartbreak from a loved one and he is very much determined to protect himself against it. Whatever it may be, Pogi and this wiry haired mutt had a lot in common without either one realizing it.
Just as the Borzoi decided to become level grounded with the two dogs and approach closer, Pogi couldn't flatten the fur. He particularly doesn't like how close the two bigger dogs are now. The danger level had doubled and made him felt more vulnerable. Even though there were still nothing he did to offend either dogs, Pogi still kept on his guard and prepared to jump into the trash pile nearest to him should things take him by a surprise. With another step backwards, the Dachshund kept his wary eyes on both dogs- it was a good thing that Shadow was so interested in the Wolfhound that Pogi is no longer in the center of attention. It was a bit of an oddity for them to share names after them just talked about their scars, but the trio themselves was enough of an oddity as it is. "Scruff... Why does that name not surprise me?" Pogi responded in regarding the Wolfhound's introduction, but as to quickly not to piss him off considering their uncomfortable distance, he quickly added; "It's very fitting." After Shadow introduced himself, the Dachshund felt obliged to do the same out of common courtesy. "The name's Pogi."
One wouldn't randomly attack after the names have been spoken... Perhaps this will end well in the Dachshund's favor after all.
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