GoldenCat/Howling03

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From Dog to Dog

The dimming light of Moon’s caste mark suddenly flared back to life. It's light scythed through the shadows ahead, illuminating the road ahead. A clearing, a garden, a fence, and then a high wall around the estate. Good, he wouldn't have to work too hard. That meant he could focus on showing off. His escape route, such as it was, clear, Moon ran. Wind tore over the two in the cart behind him, howling mad as he dashed across the clearing. They reached the garden, a wave of mud and withered flowers splashing out around them. The fence was on them before the dirt had even settled and Moon leaned back onto the cart, presenting feet-first as they coasted along the ground. White painted and wooden, it exploded as he crashed into it, one plank of wood still caught under his feet. It slapped onto the ground as he lowed himself back down. Slicked with mud and the smooth worn pathing stones of the walkway that sprouted from the ground, the Lunar balanced on the plank of wood and gave in as the cart, still racing behind him, shoved him along.

At least until the hit the wall. Jamming his heel onto the ground, Moon jammed the fence post into the ground between the paving stones and pivoted about against it, spinning the cart around. Up the wheels went, still trying to race forward even as they left the earth and with one mighty grunt, the Lunar sent it soaring. If anyone had happened to look to the sky at that moment, they might be struck by the strange shadowy image passing before the moon. A strange sight, that of a small figure huddled into the basket of a cart with a larger one behind, cartwheels spinning as though it carried them across the sky.

What went up had to come down though and the cart carried Duncan and his nameless companion towards the earth considerably faster than they went up. Whistling air swept past as the distant ground of the next yard over started to rise towards them at a despairing rate, trees ripping past as they sailed down!

And then moments, perhaps seconds from crashing... the cart came to a stop.

"Think that's good 'nough ta get me a tail?" Came a voice from bellow. The cart wheels had nearly broken off in his grip, though he sure as shit wasn't going to mention that. The ground behind Moon had been dug out in trenches deep enough to sink him to his knees, bits of boot leather scattered through the dirty piles. Still, everyone was alive and he grinned up at them from the side of the cart, shit-eating and shameless.

• He had jumped with them, striding the sky...
  
  And he fell to earth, breaking all underneath his feet!
  
  And all through it, they yelled.
  
  "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!" They shouted, boy and tomboy's voices mixing in their screeching until he fell.... and then, Moon felt movement on the cart... and then Duncan fell on his face on his side, with a thud!
  
  And the girl staggered to her feet, back and forth... 'does that get me a tail?' he asked. She just came to the edge, smiling dizzily... "... cooooollll.... yesss... tails...." was all she could say...
  
  ... before throwing very undignifiedly not too far from Moon!

Seventh Moon: "Aw, yuck..." Moon winced at the wretching sound, averting his eyes pointedly. That only put his gave up at the young boy currently laying on the ground near by and his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Ya ain't gonna ralph all over too, are ya?"

And from how he said it... could anything have sounded less manly to do at that moment? Surely no real gangster would get sick from just a little skyward joy ride!

• Duncan got up... a little scratched and full of dust, but then he shook his head, and looked up at Moon "Of course not! I'm no girl! I'm a dog of the Pack! " He nodded effusively, even as he restrained his hands from going to his face, holding his scratched nose and going 'owwww!
  
  And above, the girl seemed to just fall on her back, looking up...
  
  And unceremoniously expecting Moon to keep holding it, as a queen on a palanquin!

Seventh Moon: "Think so, huh? A'ite, dog, then lets see whatcha can do..."

Setting the cart aside and ignoring the violent thump it made as it dropped into the dirt, rattling thief and loot alike, Moon pulled himself out of the trenches and brushed off the back of his pants as he looked up at the building before them. Another rich folks house. Dark windows. Locked doors. Probably abandoned like the rest of the places on this block. Yeah, it would do...

"Here's how shit's gonna go down Duncan," Moon explained as he dug into the cart, elbowing around the young woman as he rummaged through the canvas sacks of stale bread and tinned meat. "Me 'n green-gills here are gonna run inside this place 'n have us a lil chat. Ya gonna be the watchdog, a'ite? Keep an eye out for the fuckers in the garrison. Ya see 'um or hear 'um, just come runnin' 'n give the door a knock. Good on?"

Duncan: The boy looked around.... as if he saw shadows on every corner. He really got the impression of the mission thrust upon him! "Alright! Good on that! You can trust me, Moon! Nothing will interrupt your chat, nothing at all!"

Seventh Moon: "That better include you," Moon said, casting the kid a look of dire warning from the corner of his eye. "This is real fuckin' important gang shit that don't anyone but me 'n the lady need ya know. So no fuckin' ease droppin'!"

There was a clink of glass from the bag he was digging through and the Lunar's eyes lit up. Lifting his arm from the depths of the sack, Moon raised the bottle he held up into the moonlight. The soft yellow illumination made the blue-glass simmer and sparkle, it's aged, peeling label clearly visable in the glow. Brandy. Old brandy. Sure as shit that whole 'reading' thing was coming in handy!

"A'ite brassy," Moon said, looking down unsmilingly at the girl and holding out a hand for her to grasp. "Outta the cart."

????: She looked up, getting her bundle of.... stuff on the bag. She was still a little dizzy, her freckled face swaying back and forth.... she had great skin, at that, for one so tomboyish. Auburn bangs fell on her face, a couple braids tied up with bronze strings.... and she looked up to Moon with completely neutral eyes. "Nah." She said, slumping back again. "I like the cart!"

Seventh Moon: "Suit yaself," Moon shrugged, then stooped down. The Lunar vanished out of sight for a moment, then the cart began to violently lurch. Back, forth, then... up! Moon straightened, grunting as he lifted the little wagon, girl and all, above his head. "Gonna be a bit of a pain 'n the ass gettin' it inside, but looks like that window on the second floor's big 'nough. Try ta keep ya head down. Ain't sure I'm gonna br right on target... ready?"

The cart swung back as Moon shifted into a throwing stance.

????: Now, her eyes widened. She didn't have any doubts, by now - he would do it, she was sure! And thus, she jumped off, landing in front of him with the bundle on her hands. She was getting less and less dizzy.... "... bastard. You know, in my time, Boil boys had more manners!" which is a straight-faced lie, of course. They were worse. "Soo... watcha wanna talk? I'm not giving ya a dime. I stole it, fair and square!"

Seventh Moon: The cart went down a little more gently this time, probably because there weren't any thieves in it to shake up. Giving her warning a wiry smirk, the Lunar grabbed her by the arm and dragged her along behind him. He hit the door without breaking stride, smashing the bottom of his booted foot against it with nearly enough force to rip it off the hinges and with no further adieu swung his captive audience into the darkened house. He stopped by the door and pulled off his gloves and began rolling up the sleeves of his coat, moonsilver tattoos glinted on his forearms as they came into view. Face obscured between his bangs and collar with only the narrow band of his eyes not cast in shadow, Moon glanced back over his shoulder at the young would-be gang member. "'member man, knock if ya see anythin'."

And so spoken, Moon turned his attention back into the house and the young woman just inside, taking one looming step inwards and flinging the door closed behind him.

'????: The girl fell to the ground, but as her gloved hand touched it, she lifted herself up in a movement of pure athletic grace. She pushed up from the ground and was on her feet, bangs of short auburn hair falling over her copper eyes as she eyed her assailant with suspicion... and brought her bag close to her chest, with that look of 'ain't giving you a dime!

Seventh Moon: ... and Moon stopped. He gave her bag a glance for a moment, then returned his eyes to her with a grin that answered "Aw, come on now." He bit the cork out of the brandy bottle and spat it across the room, holding the open drink out to her expectantly, almost demandingly.

????: She let go of the bag then, picking the bottle without any ceremony and gulping it down in a very unladylike manner. "Bastard. Least that's some manners. I'm Copper Flower, by the way. It's a pleasure for you to meet me." She says without pause.

Seventh Moon: He watched her appreciatively, eyeing the way her throat bulged as she swallowed. Moon licked his lips, tracking the journey of a dark droplet trickling from the corner of her mouth and down her neck until it vanished into the folds of her clothing and onwards to who knows where. "Yeah, I bet..."

He stepped closer, pushing the bottle away from her face forcefully. He touched the bottom of the dark trail across her bronze skin, sliding it up her throat, over her jaw, and brushing the corner of her mouth until he had collected up every last trace. An ink droplet on his finger tip that he casually licked away, eyes never leaving hers. "Well, ya already know who the fuck I am. So, Copper Flower, ya owe me twice now. How ya plannin' on payin' me back?"

Copper Flower: She made a face as he pushed it away, splashing her with the brandy... and then looked up at him, her lips curling into a... grin. A little nervous grin, but a grin nonetheless. "Well... um... since when do I owe you anything? You were doing nothing more than your obligation. Help your elders and all that." She smiled up at him, crossing her arms under her bosom... and under that jacket, the tomboy did have quite a bosom... "... but I didn't cut you with my lil' pretties, now, did I...?"

Seventh Moon: "And I didn't tie ya ankles up to'a doorknob," he reminded her, grinning "So neither'a us screwed the other over. 'cept... oh yeah, ya fuckin' stole from me."

His hands moved fast. Faster than she could have followed. They gripped her hips, squeezing through those concealing layers of fabric. He hoisted her, lifting as if she weighted no more than the clothes she wore, and set her down onto the table behind her, making the brandy slosh out of the bottle and onto her hand. "Twice," he repeated. Two fingers came up. "Once for savin' ya pretty little ass 'n once for that pretty lil' bangle ya borrowed off'a me. And I ain't got shit ta show for it..."

He took her wrist and pulled the bottle back in front of her. "Drink."

Copper Flower: She gives out a 'oof' as she is pulled up... then looks at him, not needing to look up to look at him in the eye... and opening a large grin. Moon could swear there were fangs there. Swear. She picked the bottle and brought to her lips... "Ah, yeah. And now, I guess I'm taking the brandy too. Does that make it thrice?" She asked with a grin, color taking her cheeks as she said so, her face going foward 'till their noses almost touched. "And what are ya gonna do about it, big boil boy?"

Seventh Moon: His answer came slow and deliberate at first. Grinning back at her, his eyes held her for a moment and then dropped, twisting down to the bottle between them. He took it from her and held it up, considering it in the pale light coming through the window. Sloshing it around in the bottle. Half-empty already. Fuck, she was a thirsty thing.

Fingers raked through her hair, jerking her head back. Just hard enough to hurt a little. Just hard enough to make her gasp. And while her mouth was open, he put the bottle to her lips and poured.

"Don't fuckin' swallow," he told her, his voice taking on a soft animal snarl. The brandy pooled in her mouth, trickling out the sides, over her chin. As the dark stain began to spread across her shirt, the flow from the bottle stopped. Moon slapped the bottle down on the table top and leaned in. An arm looped around her waist, tugging her to the edge of the table, pressing that full chest against his. He parted her legs with a knee to step in closer, body dipping as he dragged his tongue up her throat, licking the brandy off her neck, her chin, before it dipping into her open mouth. He kissed her hard, the soft growl rumbling out again as he drank the liquor from her mouth and drank the breath from her throat after it.

"Well..." he chuckled, his throat rasping as he broke the kiss and grinned at her again. "... thinkin' that covers the drink."

Copper Flower: The red was still in her cheeks... the alcohol there, in her breath as well. Her breath so hot with the burning water, her eyes half-closed already... she felt her nails digging on his skin. really digging. As he broke the kiss... she giggled. She giggled like mad. She was a cornered animal. She had realised that the moment he closed the door... but she knew she was not going anywhere.

And now... what the fuck.

This was so amusing! It was nervous, her giggle... still a bit fearful... but less, less at every little giggle. And at the end, she was so relaxed that she reached up his face... and cut his bandanna off, taking it and wrapping it on her forehead, taking her auburn bangs out of the way. "Nooww I've taken it fouuurrurice! Frice! Fruice! FRUIT! Whatever." She fell on his face, kissing him back, before breaking the kiss, and exclaiming...

"... ouuutt of brandy."

Seventh Moon: "Naw," he grinned, leaning onto her more, his broad chest making her breasts bulge roundly as they pressed together. He didn't seemed phased by the pain of her nails digging into his arm. He seemed driven by it. Incensed. The air around him stirred, not with Luna's silver light, but with an air of dangerous, sexual violence. "Gotta lil bit left..."

... but he had plans for that, she could hear in his voice. Leaning in again, he kissed her once more, hips rubbing roughly against her as he claimed her mouth. His broad hands closed over her hips again and began to stroke, rubbing up and down her sides, rubbing the cloth warm between their skin. Seeming to rub it away completely, as one hand slipped easily bellow her shirt. Up, up. Under her breast. Around it, giving it rough, testing squeeze. "Those are fuckin' nice darlin'." He told her, tipping his chin up and biting the edge of the bandana, pulling it half-down over her eyes. "Ya ought'a show 'um off more. What the fuck's up with the boy look?""

Not that he gave her the choice otherwise, dragging her shirt upwards suddenly over her chest, leaning back a little to give them a good look.

Copper Flower: "Gimmie! Gimmie!" She asked, but it was out of her reach. He pinned her... and she could not move an inch. And then she sighed, and begun to giggle again at nothing at all... and then more, as he touched her bosom. "Too much of a pain! I dun need to dress like some princessly bitch! Hard as fuck to sneak around too! And I'm already preeettyyyy like that!" And indeed... as he pushes it up, he saw her metallic underwear - was everything about her metallic-ish? Covering a flawless skin... there was a deep scar on the left of her belly, but aside from that, it was all so smooth... up to her breasts... nothing like Selina, or Iria, or Valencia... but of a good size, fitting just right under his hand, soft and pink..

Seventh Moon: "Hmm..." Moon gripped them, squeezing them together on her chest, leaning down to bury his face between them. Nuzzling, nipping, tasting the faint touch of brandy on them from the trickle that had stained her shirt. There was this lovely little shallow that formed in her cleavage that he explored, delving as deep into as he could. "Do look nice, y'know? Look like a piece of fuckin' candy. Somethin' nice 'n sweet ta be unwrapped..."

One of her breasts sagged in it's metallic encasing as he let it go, though it was no less firm and inviting for it. But there were other places on a lady that were soft and pink. That hand dropped like a stone, curling around the front of her pants. They snapped open with a tug... "An' eaten up."

His hand pushed into the tight confines to explore with a rough but knowing grip, rubbing hard, almost lifting her off the table. Touching her through that one last barrier of cloth... was it metallic down there too?

Copper Flower: Yes, it was! Metallic... but just like the bra, it was such soft metal. She could feel him through it... and he could feel her, moist as she is... a surprised whimper escaped her as he tore through her pants... and a moan escaped her soft lips as he touched her. A part of her, not too drunk yet, wondered how far gone she was... and wondered about the boy... she shivered, holding his arm with her sharp nails, looking at him through almost-closed eyes... closing every time he touched her. "Bad doggy.... bad doggy..."

Seventh Moon: Moon himself was wondering just how far he was going to take this, as her panties tented when he drew a finger back, then plunged it deep. She was attractive, yes. Willing? Hell yeah. But did he want to please or just to tease? Moon mulled over that as he chewed her ear softly, giving painful little nips across it's length. There was nothing really stopping him from bending her over this table and taking her hand enough to break it's legs, but... wasn't he supposed to be on a mission of mercy and shit? There were kids out there starving and shit! Did he really have time to stop and sample every sweet looking lady who fell into his lap?

"Bad doggy..."

... oh you bet your fucking ass he did! He thrust down on her, pushing her back down onto the table, his weight pressing warmly over her. One finger became two - such a wonderfully snug fit! swirling around within her. He nuzzled her chest against, working one breast free from her bra before clamping his lips over it. She still tasted like brandy. Brandy mixed with the tang of metal and the sweetness of female flesh. Best. Combination. Ever.

Moon tipped his chin up, his face resting between the peeks of her breasts, and grinned. "Ya wanna know just how bad this doggy can be?"

You could almost see the phantom tail wagging through the air behind him.

Copper Flower: "Hmmmm.... oooooh~" Her lips opened, her eyes closed, and he could feel her toes curling under the boots, as her legs wrapped around him the little they could... and she shook, writhing under his hands... shaking... "... yes. Show me. I wannna seeeee!" she seemed to simply moan out more than speak, alcohol and giggles and lust and dare all in her voice...

... and then he heard the knocking. Heavy. On the door!

"Moon! Moon! " Came Duncan's voice... "We got, um... problems!"

Seventh Moon: Sometimes he preferred a little more fight to it. The protesting made it seem so much naughtier, but this lady was just too damn sweet and cute. The way she writhed and squealed. Reminded him more of Sarah than Selina, the two S's at each end of the spectrum he'd started to judge women by, which made him want to go a little more gentle on her...

With a chuckle in his throat, Moon touched the tip of his tongue to that sweet valley between her breasts and began to slide dooooooown... and then jerked, as a noisy fist pounded on the door.

Shit! Shit! SHIT!

Moon gritted his teeth, looking back over his shoulder at the offending door, willing a glare through it at the boy behind it. "Anythin' ya can take care'a man? We're kinda busy here?"

Duncan: "No can do! We... we... we got a problem here..." comes the boy's voice, fearful...

And then the door slungs open, breaking off its hinges. Behind it is a man twice as tall as any man should be, and wide as a bull. Dressed in crude leather, a spiked collar around his neck. He had little hair at all, so thin atop his head, and as he spoke, his canines gleamed in the light, long and sharp. He held Duncan up from one leg like he was some river-fish just brought back to the Boil to rot "Seventh Moon?"

"I think you have something that belongs to me...."

Copper Flower: "Heeeeeeyyyy! " She shouted, covering herself, auburn hair all over her face, her arms forming an 'x' in front of herself... "Don'tcha have any manners?!? You can't walk in on a beautiful, cute, delicate flower like myself! We are in the middle of... something... here! Yeah! He's... he's molesting me or something! Go away! "

Seventh Moon: Moon felt his hackles rising. He didn't know what it was exactly, but there was something about the sight of that man that made him feel... irritated. He stared back over his shoulder, eyeing the intruder up and down slowly, a growl building subtly in his throat.

Who the hell this fucker think he is? Comin' in here and tryin' ta steal my bitch?!

And when his tongue was almost down to the sweet spot too! Stupid damn villains always had to turn up at the worst time...

"Yeah, fuck off man," he finally grunted, turning his back on the intruder and sinking his fingers back into Copper, leaning down on her to push her back against the table, possessively clutching a hand over her exposed breast. "We're busy."

????: "Like I care, doggy." He threw Duncan somewhere close to Moon's feet... and his other hand grabbed what passed for the door... and his fingers dug on its frame. With a single yank, he ripped the thing off its hinges, and sent it flying towards Moon! "Of course, if you wanna be here with the tomboy while I take over the Pack... feel free."

And saying just that, he turned, walking away.

"I expected more of an alpha, really."

Seventh Moon: ...

... aw for fuck's sake.

"A'ite shithead," Moon sighed, casually slipping his hand out of Copper's pants and wiping them clean against her. He grabbed Duncan by the collar and hoisted the kid back to his feat, tugging him along behind him to give Copper a chance at something resembling modesty. Let it never be said that Seventh Moon didn't respect the ladies he cornered and molested! Just... not enough to not molest them.

."Think we ought'a be havin' a chat after all," he said as he followed the large man out the door, taking his turn to toss Duncan aside, pushing the kid hopefully out of harms way as soon as they cleared the threshold. Moon glowered at the larger man's back, not particularly worried by the show of strength he'd just bared witness to. Didn't matter. He was pissed. No one interrupted his fun, goddamn it!

Though, what galled him, what really, truly pissed him the fuck off was that... she was going to run off. He knew it. She'd nab that little bag and sneak off while he was dealing with Bruno the Human Bulldog here. No after brawl lovin' made Moon a grouchy boy. "So talk. Who the fuck are ya and why shouldn't I be spendin' the next few minutes shovin' ya head up ya ass?"

????: He looked down on Moon with caramel eyes that... did not seem quite human. He turned around slowly... so very slowly. And he was growling. Like a dog, growling softly... "Good. Good. Dude... I want you to try. Little Seventh Moon, heard so much, expected better." His spiked collar clattered with a metallic sound, as he looked down on Moon... and crackled his knuckles. "Boil's gotta have a new alpha dog."

Seventh Moon: "Yeah well the position ain't up for fuckin' grabs," Moon snorted, his feet shifting apart somewhat as he balanced himself in the dirt. No knuckle cracking from him, his hands rested loose and easy in his pockets. The Lunar cocked his head to the side, a mocking smirk baring fangs at the stranger. "Sides, meat-slab, who the fuck are ya that anyone should follow ya to so much as a shit house?"

????: "Who am I?" The man got a handful of Moon's jacket and pulled him up, opening his canine-sharp mouth.... bad breath washing over Moon's face. Well, not that bad. Just the breath of a dog that had eaten far too much meat earlier. His eyes met Moon's... "Guess, lil' doggy."

Seventh Moon: "... well, ya sure as shit ain't a toothbrush saleman."

????: "... alright. That does it."

The great guy... thing... snarled, bringing his immense, maul-sized fist back... and foward, towards Moon's face!

Seventh Moon: ... which was about when Moon's steel-toed boot cracked into the nameless gorilla's ankle. One swift snap of a kick, his upper body motionless and unhinting as his leg moved. Total sucker blow, but when you're fighting a sucker...

It should have made him stumble, it would have sure as hell made anyone else stumble. And that was when his hand finally moved. Just one he didn't want to be too showy rising from his pocket. Two fingers jabbed towards the collar on the giant's throat, aimed at one of those stupid looking spikes with all intent to jam the damn thing back through the leather and half-crush his windpipe behind it.

????: ... and truly, he did stumble! He growled as he did, trying to bring Moon down with him... but he failed, even though he managed to save his windpipe! His movements were fast and supple... his movements were too good to be human! Far too good! And thus, as he fell to the ground, He propped himself up again, jumping at Moon to hold him and crash him to the ground in a bear hug!

Seventh Moon: Moon grunted as the heavy thug bore him backwards, the larger man's weight pinning him for the moment. The Lunar flexed his muscles against the pressure of the hold to keep it from crushing him... which surprised him. Wasn't many... anythings any more who could make a claim to putting his ribs in danger. Be fuckin' damned if he was going to let this schmuck think he was taking the fight seriously though. Whoever, whatever, he was, the boy was in need of a first rate ass kicking and fast.

Now all Moon had to do was not get smothered to death under half a ton of bacon-scented bastard and he could see about doing that.

"Urk... look, man..." he gritted his teeth, lips stretching to pass it off as a grin as he tensed his muscles. They were stumbling back, but Moon didn't let them fall. He threw his legs out behind him braced, face buried against the larger man's chest. There was no pushing back though, not with the mud sliding under his feet, but at least it kept him upright, even if the other punk was forcing them back. "If ya that fuckin' frisky, there was a lady back in the house who was already nice 'n greased!"

He felt the traction changed under his boots, from mud to stone, but it did little good. His boots were as slicked as Copper had been by now. But if they hit stone, that could only meant he was going to be trapped between a rock and a hardhead in half a second more. Arms straining outwards in a sudden flare of strength, he worked to burst free from the other punks grasp. The larger man's momentum kept pushing them onwards. His heels hit the wall of the mansion and his legs bent as he started to scramble up it, his lower body flipping up and over the head of the oversized punk, twisting him out of the other man's grasp!

????: He escaped from his grasp. The large man laughed.

The boy was good!

"Boy, boy... trust me, grappling little boys like ya do not turn me on. I just chew on your type to get my energy back after a good few bitches. But I gotta admit. You are good. Good as they said. Good as I thought." He stepped foward... then gestured for Moon to step foward. 'Come on' his hand said. 'Try yer luck.' "This is not a turn-on, man. But hell if this isn't fun."

His palms slammed on the ground! And then... he growled. And around him, for a moment, appeared a great bulldog. He lurched foward, then.... moving like a dog, towards Moon, to pounce him on the ground, and come with his Fangs at the Lunar's throat and rip it out!

Seventh Moon: "Hey, I was havin' a lot more fun till ya showed up!" Moon snorted, dancing back a few steps as the punk pawed the ground like a bull ready to charge. Or rather, like a dog. Moon's constant scowl deepened as the bulldog image flashed into the air, the hairs on the back of his neck rising.

Oh, now he really hated this fucker!

Moon still only had one hand out, the other firmly entrenched still in his pocket. And be damned if it was going anywhere. He didn't need it to take down some pup who'd just had his balls drop and decided it meant he was the biggest dog on the block! The Lunar's breeze flight back stopped beside one of the trees that lined the garden walkway. He grinned darkly as the bulldog slavered and jumped, raising his hand and giving his fingers a flick back towards himself. "Ya think ya such fuckin' badass cause ya bring it on! BRING IT ON!"

And he did, big sorry stupid fucker that he was. The bulldog leapt with fangs bared and Moon held his ground. Waiting, grinning as those drooling teeth lunged for his throat, hand still beckoning the other man, challenging him to come. 'Cross this line' he dared silently. It was a challenge no street punk would turn down. And, like most, the sorry sap was so busy aiming for the throat, he thought to look at his feet.

The trench Moon had dug landing the cart was sitting there, like some sort of ground squirrel-geomancer's half-finished project. He'd retreated over it in his seeming flight away and kept a few steps back beyond Moon banking on the bulldog being more intent on watching his feet for treachery than minding where he put his own. The punk hit that trench and his leap turned into a stumble for the second time that night, those open jaws lunging forward... right onto Moon's hand. Dog or no, there was damn little the bastard was going to do about a mouth full of jade. Moon's fingers closed around the punk's jaw, clutching tight as he stepped back with the momentum and swung the larger man around by the jaw, throwing him bodily into the tree beside him.

????: ... and Moon sends him flying against the tree, breaking it... breaking one of the few trees on the Boil!

He gets up slowly... his own Fangs having hurt his mouth so... and spitting blood.

"Alright. You're a tough fucker." He said, wiping blood from his mouth.

"A very tough fucker. I can see why you're making us big 'gain."

Seventh Moon: "Yeah, ya ain't sayin' nothin' I don't already know," Moon growled, the glow of his anima burning cold around him from that little stunt. He hoped to hell the garrison had already taken off for the evening, cause they sure as shit were going to notice it. And even if they lucked out and it was some sort of elite troop of blind troopers, they probably weren't going to be so fortune to have them all go deaf too. They'd made enough racket to wake the dead. Again.

"We done with this shit? Ya gonna fuckin' tell me-" Moon paused as he caught his hand from the corner of his eye, glistening wetly. With a grimace, he reached over to 'help' the other punk to his feet, using the chance to wipe his hand clean on the man's shirt. Yuck. Bulldog slobber. "Ya gonna fuckin' tell me who the fuck ya are now? Or should I break a few more pieces a'private property with ya face?"

Cynar: "Heh." He says... before he burstles into laugher. His laughter is a throaty, throaty laugh. And then he shakes his head... and looks down on the tough smaller dog. "Name's Cynar. Heard much 'bout you. And who the fuck do you think I am, boy?"

"I'm the Whiteshieldian god of dogs! "

Seventh Moon: Well, there was only one thing you could really say to that.

"... we have a god of dogs?"

Cynar: "Well, yeah... and actually, my territory goes through Windia, alll the way up to Crystal, and down to the icewalker tribes. But fuck! " He spats, "'tis all fucking birds, around here. When it isn't cats of Spire. And then, the Icewalkers? They only use fucking Elks! Nobody likes dogs! Nobody remember us fucking dogs!" He looks grumpily... then looks at Moon, and smiles.

"... 'till now."

Seventh Moon: That kind of explained a lot. The strength. The bulldog image. The smell. The smell was what had him the most riled. Guy didn't smell like a punk. Punks always had some kinda scent you could catch. Leather, sex, booze, weed... some of them just smelt unwashed, but it was a damn distinct kind of unwashed. But this guy? This guy smelled like dog.

... and somehow, that was comforting. It was damn comforting. He'd met a god of birds once already and, fucking heaven forgive him, saved a god of cats. He hadn't given it a lot of thought, but somewhere, on some deep level, he'd always felt it was profoundly unfair that there wasn't one for dogs.

"Till now," he echoed to finish his own train of thought.

"Sooo... ya here ta see me?" Moon ventured slow-like, Ebb sloughing off his hand and melting into his jacket pocket like wax dripping off a candle. He scratched his jaw, head tilted to the side. "What's all this shit 'bout takin' the Pack then? And talkin' 'bout shit that belongs to ya?"

Cynar: The large bulldog-of-a-man shrugged in a little bit of embarassment, then his face seemed to... lower, with that sound that only a dog can do when he relaxes. His eyes went low, almost as if his brows were going to crush them. "Well, see.... I wanted to see if ya were really tough. Like they claimed. All the people who've been noticing dogs again thanks to ya."

"Well, and... I had this idea... kinda stupid, really..." He nods, pacing absent-mindedly around. "Since the Pack was gettin' famous here, if I took it over and started a cult there, it'd be good. A little silly, come to think of it. I should be working with ya."

"Damn bird-obssessive people. Give them wings, they forget their best friends down here, damnit."

"We can't let them forget 'gain."

Seventh Moon: "My gang ain't a fuckin' tool ta get ya followers!" Moon snapped, a canine's instinctive possessiveness filling him and a growl rumbling in his throat.

But... he couldn't really hold it. Not with Cynar standing there looking so forlorn. There was something unbareably sad and pathetic about the sight. It was the sort of heartbreaking mope that only a dog could pull of. Whipped and miserable. Apologetic. Understanding that they did something wrong. Cats didn't care, even reveled in pissing you off, and birds were as good as brain-dead when it came to that shit.

Yeah, it was a dumb fuck plan if he'd ever heard one. Chances are the Pack wouldn't have followed him anyway. Hell, way things were now, even if Cynar had won a brawl, was a bigger chance of people chasing him out of town. Still, there was shit more even worse ideas the guy could have had.

The glare loosened on Moon's face and for a moment, he walked away, padding off softly over to the cart, digging into the back until he found the second bottle of booze they'd plundered earlier that night. Rye whiskey, not really the sort of thing you expected to find in a rich man's home. He tossed it Cynar's way and leaned back against the cart, folding one leg over the other and his arms across his chest.

"... did ya now some folks 'round here were fuckin' eatin' dogs while back? Yeah, I put a goddamn stop ta that shit when I found out, but..." Trailing away, Moon shook his head at the ungrateful waste of it and let out a long sigh. "People ain't grateful for shit 'bout what pups do for 'um. Guard their homes, hunt their food, kill their rodents, keep 'um warm at night, give 'um the kinda unwaverin' love that ya just don't fuckin' get from other folks."

"And how do they get paid back for all that? Get beatin' or tossed out on the street. Get fuckin' eaten just cause food gets a lil' scarce." He sniffed. Not really a sad sound, more an indignant one. "There's lotta bad shit goin' on 'round here, y'know? Tonight, tryin' ta deal with all the kids runnin' loose. Tomorrow... fuck knows what's next. Maybe the dogs. Maybe the dead... adds up, y'know?"

Cynar: "Yeah, I know. I got the souls of those pups." He nods, making that sound again, almost a sigh, and masticating on something imaginary. "Could feel those things. Can't tell ya how bad that made me feel. But you walked around beating people, and soon everywhere is warded against me. I'd just be another Spooky case... or worse."

"They forget them, man. All they want is some petting. All they want is to be reached to, to be loved. You don't even need to feed them, much as they want it." He says, and then... a scrawny, skinny little stray comes out of a trashcan, all of its mismatched fur spiky and wet... and Cynar knelt down, such a big man... dog... that Moon could almost hear the ground shaking, even though it didn't. And he reached down to the dog, petting him... "In the end, they just want people to realise they are there. To curl up close to people and feel safe. That's all, ain't it, little fella?" He continued to pet, and the doggy, its half-tail wagging, curled up on the ground.

"That's al."

Seventh Moon: Moon watched and tried to keep his face impassive. It didn't work and for one of the few times ever since a certain day of his childhood, the cloud over Moon's brow lifted. The glare smoothed away. The downward quirk of his lips straightened to a straight, yet somehow all the more unhappy line. Wasn't anyone who would ever know enough to question why it happened. There were only two people to even see it. Moon turned his head back to look for the second one, searching out Duncan in the shadows and giving the kid a nod of his head towards the god and the dog, silently asking for once not ordering for him to go and see the mutt. To go do it for him. He wanted to go pet that damn sorry looking dog so bad his fingers burned, but he needed a moment to think. To think.

"... y'know man," he said as he turned back to Cynar, sighing yet again, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't think no 'mount'a popularity is gonna matter for shit 'bout this. Not with most folks, the way they are. Already set in their ways, y'know? Can go 'round slappin' 'um upside the head when they do shit 'n they stop, but they don't learn nothin' from it. They just stop cause they don't wanna get slapped again, y'know? If anythin', makes 'um all bitter 'n scared 'n shit. Start lookin' for chances ta do worse by 'um, so they can feel all fuckin' brave again..."

"Buncha fuckers..." Moon spat to the side, his glare returning for a moment, but fading again just as quick. "... ain't nothin' neither'a us can do ta reach most of 'um... but maybe there's somethin' we can do. Help each other out a bit. Maybe stop a whole lotta bad shit from happenin' in the future..."

Cynar: Duncan walked to the dog, and begun to pet him. Cynar got up... looked down at the boy... who wasn't very enthusiastic about it, true, with a dog that didn't look like it was a wonder... but he was doing it. And the dog? Its tongue out, its tail moving, it turned on its back and offered its belly for petting. So happy. Happy as it probably had ever been... and Cynar got up, nodding to all that Moon said... "And what that?"

Seventh Moon: "Term I heard from an Eir lady one time. She was threatenin' ta cut my balls off so I wouldn't wanna feel her up any. Called it 'preventive medicine.'" A faint smile passed across the Lunar's face. That had been before he was Chosen, back when he was just a punk with a few tricks. That particularly lady had gone amazingly unmolested that night. Plans were, she wouldn't get lucky twice.

"That's kinda what we're workin' on now, if I'm understandin' it proper," he went on, dragging his thoughts away from that tangent. His eyes dropped to the boy and the dog, smiling to see that tail wagging happily. "Preventive medicine for kids like him. Makin' sure they don't grow up ta be total fuckin' bastards. Keepin' 'um way from Asher gangs 'n fuckheads like them. Give 'um a good proper raisin', not one that turns 'um mean."

"We gotta a house for 'um aleady. Pack is out tonight grabbin' food 'n clothes and all kinds a shit ta stock. Gonna steal us an alchemist later ta make sure someone's 'round ta keep 'um from dyin' off thanks ta some fuckin' cold or somethin'. One things been hangin' over me though, somethin' I can't really shake. We need someone ta keep an eye on 'um. My Pack can check in on 'um from time ta time, but ain't no one gonna wanna watch 'um all the time and fuck all if I'd want 'um to. But mine ain't the only pack 'round..."

He held Cynar's gaze, his face open and honest. Understanding. One mutt to another. He held out his hand, a single finger aimed at the dog god's chest. "You. Ya watch over 'um. Bring ya pups ta the house ta watch 'um too. Teach the little fuckers how ta treat 'um right 'n shit. How ta appreciate the pups. Let 'um both get somethin' outta it. Give the dogs a place much as the kids, y'know? Maybe when they get older, they'll do right by 'um. And by you, y'know?"

"It ain't gonna solve shit now and it ain't gonna get ya worshipers over night or nothin', but..." A shrug. He looked away peering intently at his feet. "Maybe be a good start on makin' sure that shit stops before it ever happens."

Cynar: Cynar smiles. Little orphans. He could round up the youngest, most promising pups in the Boil... make the boy grow up with the dogs. Give one for each... or maybe bless them when they did something good. Look out for them. Set a shrine There. And in a generation... in a generation, maybe the best and brightest there would be caring for their dogs. And then... that could spread to every orphanage in Whiteshield. And maybe in Windia too. And Hanslanti, and, and....

... yeah. That was a fucking good idea.

"... that... that is a great idea, boy. I'm sold."

He was a bulldog, then. A fuckin' great bulldog, scratching himself behind his ear.

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