InsaneJournal

Penny and Wings: Changes
[Memo and Hollywood played by and © Blueflyer.]

She had started acting strange about a week ago.

All that time she had been somewhat more playful with him than she had been in a long time, and he had responded in kind. But all he had to do was tread one hair wrong and she'd start growsing at him to go away, and he would promptly -- albeit bewilderedly -- obey. Sometimes she'd even chase him a few steps, her teeth flashing -- just the other day she had caught him on the neck, and it still smarted, since he could never quite get at it properly with his tongue. Honestly, he had no words to explain this new development in her behaviour.

What was even more strange was how he wanted to be around her all the time now, for all her fickleness.

He had had even less luck explaining that, beyond the idea that something in her was calling to something in him. But she would never have any of it, so really how true could that be? And yet, the compulsion remained. Not only that, but she had been demanding more and more space with each passing day. First the corner, then half the space, and today he had just been forcibly ejected from the sheltered hollow behind a rocky bluff that had been their home for some time already.

He had retired to this place where the air was sweet and it was relatively warm, and had just lain in the grass to ponder. Failing to come up with any kind of explanation for this, he let his thoughts drift as he used to do. The winter had just been one long drawn-out neither-day-nor-night of running and hunting and eating and sheltering, and he had no time at all to simply think. Having that time, now, was somewhat refreshing.

Wings? Was that his name, was that who he was? It seemed so strange and foreign to him now, in this place where nobody seemed to need names at all. He knew his companions' voices, he knew their scents, he could tell who they each were at a distance just by their silhouettes and the way that they moved, friend or stranger. He knew the way that they hunted together, knew their techniques and their strengths and their weaknesses, knew how they could all work together to get what everybody wanted in this time and place: food. He knew that they each knew him the same way. And that was enough.

Penny. Hollywood. Memo. It all seemed like part of a distant world, like something he had been once, but was no longer. That world, whatever it may have been, was gone. She, his fiery red She, was the only thread of his old life that had not frayed and disappeared behind him. Now there was only cold and hunger baying at them from all sides, and all they could do was to keep on running as fast as they could go.

The seal and white whippet raised his sleek head from his paws to gaze about him. Yes. Now, this was all there was, and moments like this were all that he had of his own.

The brindle and white male trotted eagerly behind the fawn bitch. The winter had been tough on him, and several times he’d wished not to move from the spot he was hiding in. Before the rocky den, it had been the worst shelters the four had encountered; a small gully near a low lying collection of frozen bushes. The heavy snows had forced them to take immediate shelter and that had probably been the worst night of his life. He’d been hungry and cold, the coldest he’d ever been in his life, and one of his front paw pads had split from the dry air and the cold. The next morning had not provided any food, but the day after, as the snows melted, they had found at least a small something. His paw pad was healing now, but it was still very sore and slightly infected, despite how clean he tried to keep it through repeated licking.

He nosed at the fawn female’s flank as she trotted and then his tail wagged. The smell of her for the last two days had pulled at something deep in his instincts and he hadn’t let her alone since. She didn’t mind at all, in fact she had first sought him out and played with him often now. Of course, now, she didn’t play so much with the other bitch as she used to due to the copper and white’s change in behavior. He thought it was all him, though, that made her seek him out. There hadn’t been a day when he hadn’t been close to her and now he felt as though his mind would erode if he didn’t interact with her every second of every day. She stopped, sniffing the ground, and he stopped beside her, leaning his head down to sniff at her bent hocks. When she moved off again he stayed and stuck his nose into the grass, closing his eyes for the moment. When he came up to look for the female, thick strings of saliva were dripping from his lips. He raced after her, then, tactless in his pursuit and when she took off he increased his speed, running three-legged. He cut her off and bounded at her, laying paws to her shoulders. She barked at him, a high pitched sound of annoyance, but he didn’t heed. The fawn bitch spun and bit him on the ear, drawing quite a lot of blood. Whining, the brindle pulled away as she pranced towards the rocks. He watched as she threw herself in front of Wings, tail wagging just below his chin. He cantered forward and when he drew close to her she bolted from both males and went to stand on the other side of a small tree. Confused, he stood beside the seal and white, calmer male just watching the far off bitch.

When she started whining lightly he perked his ears, and for the fifth time he started making the unproductive circle, following her.

The dog Wings watched impassively as his companions went through the motions of the age-old dance. He felt it in his own bones when he scented his own female, knew that it was something larger than himself that he was obeying when he persisted in pursuing her despite her rebuffs. The fawn bitch was the same way, this much was only too plain. But the fawn bitch belonged to the brindle, and there really wasn't any point in getting into squabbles when there was a dog to each bitch, was there?

Still -- as the fawn gambolled closer, to throw herself before him like an offering, teasing, he couldn't stop his ears perking forward, nor his senses from straining towards her. He wondered as the fawn dashed away again and the brindle came to stand beside him, equally mystified as to the contrary nature of bitches.

But what was the harm in a simple chase?

When the brindle began his pursuit once again, the seal, abandoning his reservations, eased himself off the ground and followed close behind him.

The brindle dog wasn't all that surprised when the fawn whippet spun and tucked her tail. Her long back rounded and her head bowed while her dark eyes focused on the two males. He stopped immediately, noticing the flash of white, rows of teeth showing for a brief moment. The circle was apparently over and she was calling an end to his pursuit of her and all in one instant, Hollywood was reminded of why he didn't find females emotionally fulfilling. The irresistible bitch was all too suddenly repugnant and he turned his head, looking to the dark brown and white male. "She tires of us," he said, glancing up when she turned and trotted away quickly. Her ears slicked back high on her head and she kept glancing over her shoulder while her tail tucked tightly underneath her.

Half white and half patched face pointed away from the bitch and towards the rock like shelter where the taller male had been keeping watch. He trotted back to the structure and shivered as a chilly gust of wind blew past. "She wont let you inside?" he said hopefully, looking into the depths of the cave like structure.

He was quiet then, for a long while. He listened hard to the rustling of the wind, and the gentle howling sound of the wind in the cave like formation. "Why is she acting so odd...?" he said, staring at the stony ledge.

Wings leapt back from the flashing teeth that appeared seemingly out of thin air as he approached. He knew well the fawn's prowess in hunting, and he had no wish to be on the receiving end of any punishment she might decide to dish out. Deciding that the brindle dog was much safer and a hair more predictable company, he turned tail and followed him back to the den.

"It seems," he murmured in response to the other's statement. The cut on his neck smarted.

A soft warning growl emanated from the depths of the rocky hollow as if in answer to Hollywood's question, and the seal dog's ears instinctively pulled back. Evidently she wasn't quite out of her mood just yet. He knew the moment would come -- had to come, eventually -- but this was the longest that she had kept him at bay. It was maddening, really.

Backing up slowly, clearly showing her he meant to comply with whatever she wanted, Wings moved to lie down beside Hollywood. He had no answer to the brindle dog's questions, or his confusion. To his own knowledge, he had never been around a bitch who acted the way these two were now. And at such a time when they needed each other, had depended on each other all the cold winter to survive -- why?

Grunting softly in response to communicate that he was equally stumped, Wings laid his head on his paws.

He moved away from the shelter with Penny growling inside, and he laid delicately down beside Wings, crossing his paws in front of him before resting his chin next to the seal and white dog's paws. Hollywood was laying at an odd angle, one that would suggest he was broken, but he was actually quite comfortable.

"Doesn't she know it's cold out here?" he pouted, trembling from his nose to rear. He whined then, a gentle but persistent sound as he lifted his head, looking to the opening of the shelter. His whining got a little louder before the smarting in his foot overtook his mission to annoy Penny into allowing the rest of the pack access. His cold nose poked the sore pad before he dragged his tongue over the wound.

That's how he spent a good few hours, simply licking and licking and licking the paw pad. His saliva and friction of tongue on foot caused the scab to break open and he closed his eyes, bored finally with staring at the grass. He hoped that whatever was causing his paw all this pain would go away with some good licking.

Memo had wandered off and stayed away for a long while, whining into the quiet woods for the nearest male. She knew she was too far away for Wings and Hollywood to hear, but still she persisted in her crying until finally she just gave up her fruitless search and settled for doing something more productive. She'd found a small stream and a squirrel fussing over the small carcass of a rabbit. One of it's paws was attached to a long cord, and not far off a big black raven sat, stately, staring at the squirrel.

Now she was trotting with the (now) three legged rabbit and the captured squirrel back to the den, disbelieving in her luck and thankful for the closeness of spring and how the nearness of the season made prey animals less cautious.

She scampered around two males, keeping her head low and tail tucked tightly to her belly, ears slicked back fully to keep them away. Memo made it past Hollywood, his eyes following her, but she was thankful that watching was all he did. She came to the entrance of the shelter and dropped the kills at her paws before she called quietly into the shadows. "Penny," she said, her ears continuing to stay slicked back. "Are you hungry? I've found some food."

Memo understood what was going on while daft Hollywood licked his feet.

Wings waited, not moving from where he lay close by the entrance, but he quivered just slightly and the ghost of a whine wisped from his throat when a black nose appeared, snuffling suspiciously at the kills. Then the sleek copper head with its dark masking emerged, before Penny herself stepped cautiously out into the cold air. She lowered her head to the kills again before nodding gratefully, wordlessly, at Memo, her whip of a tail sweeping back and forth.

Picking one of the rabbits up by the scruff, she retreated back into the darkness, inviting Memo to join her by way of a benevolent glance from her dark eyes.

Wings whined now, softly -- a noise that had nothing to do with hunger -- but his wordless plea went by, ignored. Laying his head on his paws again, he sighed deeply, hardly caring about the sudden gust of wind that seemed to blow right through him.

His ears flickered instinctively at the rasp of Hollywood's tongue against his pawpad. The brindle male was his sole companion now, his fellow outcast, and Wings felt himself in deep need of some kind of company at least, or he would go mad.

"What's wrong with your foot?" he asked bluntly, turning to look at the other dog, his ears rising in curiosity despite himself.

"It started hurting one day," Hollywood said, nosing his winter-dry split skin tenderly before looking back up to Wings. A small smile laid across the male's black lips as he watched Wings. As he returned his tongue to the cut he started thinking about the slim male beside him and the ordeal was puzzling and complex, and thinking about it often put him in a sullen mood. But what better things did he have to do?

It wasn't really unknown to Hollywood, and Memo for that matter, that Hollywood preferred the company of males to females. This afternoon was a prime example of why; and while when breeding season came around he did his duty for the sake of instinct, he never really felt a connection or a deep seeded need to pursue the female like most dogs did. Any dog he knew would chase a bitch until he dropped, then drag himself after her. He would chase at the onset of the heat, then leave her well enough alone after a few rejections. Females, Hollywood had decided long ago, were better companions then they were lovers, and even as companions they had their spells of undeniable intolerance. Males were far more laid back, as was their nature, and Hollywood had found that attractive. He'd also found that when he'd made the preference change that nearly every male dog he found or came into contact with had a little quality he liked a lot, and some things he didn't like.

Wings had a lot of qualities that he liked. Hollywood couldn't pretend that everything was sunshine and roses, though. As much as he felt drawn to Wings, there was one thing he detested...almost enough to growl out loud, and that was his devotion to Penny. Hollywood didn't dislike Penny; she was alright and an all around good bitch, hunter, and friend to Memo. But as Wings' partner...Hollywood wished he could make Wings see that he would never make him sit outside of a shelter.

"I'll be ok," he said, in an attempt to sound virile. He wasn't really the proliferating powerhouse type, and never once did he ever assume himself to be the dominant. He was meager, weak, and supple...and that was sexy. Slowly Hollywood rose to his paws and flicked his ears forward, staring ahead through the trees with an intensity he found attractive when Wings did it. He hoped Wings was watching him and felt the same as he did when he saw Wings stand at attention, watching the horizon. Next he dipped into a bow, curling his tail high over his back and he looked sideways at Wings with a very small, but none the less flattering smile.

'Alright,' he thought to himself as he watched the others dark eyes, 'time to turn it up.'

Memo padded into the cave behind Penny, the dead squirrel in her mouth and she settled down near to where she could smell Penny most, she nosed the kill before looking through the dark towards where she saw the glint of Penny's eyes. "Are you alright?" she asked, tentatively, placing a paw on the kill she'd carried in.

Wings cocked his head at the other male's odd behaviour. Hollywood's split foot had made him think of the cut on his own neck, and he had turned his attention to trying to get at that for a second, a soft whine-growl of frustration emanating from his throat as he twisted his neck and head to get at the difficult spot. It was itching and smarting by turns and between that and Penny's rebuffs, the seal dog wasn't having a particularly pleasant week.

It was only after a while that he'd realised Hollywood had gotten to his feet and was standing some distance away, staring off at the horizon. As he watched, the other dog slowly turned his head to look at him. His gaze wasn't hostile but... there was something odd there. Something bold and strange and rather unfathomable to the seal dog. Wings was mildly puzzled by this change in attitude. Only a minute ago the brindle had seemed all but obsessed with his split paw, and now there he was, proud as anything.

"Shouldn't you be resting it?" he inquired, pointing his ears forward. "If it hurts so."

Inside the den Penny perked her ears at Wings's voice, and her eyes brightened for just a second before she blinked and shook her head, sending her ears flapping over each other until one stood straight up while the other flopped over the top of her head.

"Oh, you've been a good friend to me, so good," she whispered, her voice a breathy whine, and she drew closer to the fawn bitch, her tail wagging slowly. Her dark eyes darted from Memo to the kill and back again before her ears folded back flat against her head and her lips pulled back from her teeth.

"It's just those dogs. How tiresome they are! Hollywood is completely useless. And Wings... oh, he doesn't understand a thing! Not at all! How can he! I tell him so very clearly what I want and he goes about it all wrong. All wrong! He doesn't know how to do anything. Useless, hopeless, thoughtless..." A petulant snarl broke from her throat that morphed and heightened swiftly into a whimper of frustration and pain and impatience and anxiety.

"But, oh, why do I want him then?!"

Lowering her head to Memo, indicating that her anger was not for her, Penny backed away into a corner, curled herself into a ball and put her head on her flank. A cocktail of emotions and stresses and everything in between were clamouring in her chest, and she blinked and licked her nose in some vague confused horror at the whole ordeal.

"I probably should," he said tenderly standing up. Mistaking Wings' friendly concern for infatuated worry, he took on the role of gentle submissive. His injured paw curled up to his chest and he made his way, limping, over to Wings. He stood three legged beside the male, staring down at him with his ears up, and draped forward before he settled down. His long body stretched to lay beside Wings. His haunches pressed against the sable and white male's haunches, while he rubbed shoulders with Wings. Tenderly he draped his neck over Wings' shoulder blades before the whiff of blood caught his attention.

Hollywood pulled his head back and stared at his friend's profile before he reached his nose out and gently drew his tongue over the wound. It was a cautionary tentative lick to judge Wings' reaction, but emboldened by his own outgoing nature Hollywood soon fell to licking Wings' neck and wound with all the tenderness of a lover.

Memo picked up one of the two kills and stood slowly, watching Penny quietly as she spoke. She then made her way over to the copper bitch and laid the squirrel out, remembering the day in late fall when she'd first met Penny and how she'd gone to chase a squirrel. Memo had put to memory Penny's chase, and thought that the swift female had a taste for the tree going rodent. She nudged the kill closer to Penny watching the amber fur of the small creature touch Penny's white paws.

"Dogs will always be trouble. They were from the start I think," she said, laying down close to Penny to offer comfort and support. Her own frustration at Hollywood for not following her properly or following the laws of instinct properly for that matter, made her feel close to Penny because she could relate. "I dont think they will ever understand any of us. They'll always feel superior even though all the bitches in the world...even the wee bitty ones, all of them know who's really in charge."

Memo kept her ears back and laid her muzzle down on Penny's rump, her nose bumping Penny's. She sniffled Penny's nose, causing her nose to bump against the copper female's nose several more times before the fawn bitch finally fell still. "Do you love him...?" she asked in a whisper, staring into Penny's eyes only two muzzle lengths away.

Wings laid his ears back and rolled his eyes just slightly as Hollywood advanced upon him. There was just something there that didn't feel quite right. This was his packmate and friend, whom he had known for many months -- he now seemed like a dog he barely knew. Still, he only tensed slightly as the other male leaned against him. Ah, comfort, since they were stuck outside the shelter for now and there was a wind picking up. That made sense. He eased up.

All of a sudden he felt the other dog's cold nose nuzzling at his neck, and he almost let out a yip of startlement. He certainly hadn't expected grooming or cleaning, that had always been Penny's job. Again there was that feeling of strangeness, and part of him urged him to bolt with his ears and tail well back. But at the same time, that infernal place on his neck had now finally been reached. It had plagued him for so long, he could have whined with relief.

Sighing, he laid his head on his paws, willing to let Hollywood work away while he rested.

Penny curled against Memo, grateful for the contact and the comfort it brought her. The fawn bitch's words of understanding had given her some solace, and she relaxed, gradually as she listened to them. She wasn't quite sure she understood what she herself wanted at this point, and she was angry with Wings for not knowing how to provide it for her since something was telling her that he was the key to this whole puzzle, and she was angry with Hollywood for being completely clueless about the whole thing. It was all very upsetting, but having Memo near her seemed to quell the fire somewhat, even though there was still something in her that demanded... what? That she go out and seek him? That she not let him come near her?

"Do you love him...?"

Penny blinked at that, regarding Memo out of the corner of her eye. She considered the question. What did it mean? She was Wings's companion, yes, that much was true, it had been that way for as far back as she could remember right now. It had been the two of them, just the two of them...

And if she thought even harder images swirled and jumbled themselves together in her mind. Fierce strong icy water and a fierce strong huge monster that lived in it. And Wings... Wings motionless and full of water and oh, so still, and a crippling horror deeper than anything she had ever known. Her eyes widened, and she snorted her confusion and remembered fear.

"I... suppose?"

She shook her head, deciding she didn't know anything anymore and that the first thing to do right now was feed herself, she was starving. Bringing the squirrel in between her front paws, she proceeded to tear it apart with flashing jaws. Placing the meal in between them, an offering to Memo in case she was hungry as well, she dug into her own half voraciously.

Hollywood slipped his eyes closed as Wings allowed him to lick his neck. Over and over he dragged his tongue over the slit in the sable and white whippet's fur, working the scab free and licking the open wound gently. Slowly he started to shift his body to get a better angle of the other male's neck, and quickly he shifted and laid one paw and leg over both of Wings' front legs, under the dog's throat.

He didn't move his paw away.

Suddenly Hollywood found his tongue working down the other male's neck, heading for his shoulder. He could taste the dirt from travel and distantly the taste of dried grasses on the white and brown dog, and as he slid his nose and mouth down the swan like column of Wings' neck and towards the hollow at the base of his neck, Hollywood could taste the very distant taste of blood from a kill, possibly days old and gone. He busied himself with grooming through Wings' coat, using his small comb like teeth to work through the matted areas of fur around his neck and using his tongue to return the brightness to the lovely dog's coat.

Inside the warm den Memo stared at her half of the kill, then rolled onto her side, away from the kill. She stretched out her long legs and laid her cheek on the firm ground while her bright eyes looked up at Penny. The copper bitch was truly bothered by the entire events, and Memo wondered if it was her first time.

As she listened to Penny she felt suddenly defensive of her female friend. Her blood was already hot from her season and her temper was short, her patience even shorter, and even as Penny said that she supposed she loved Wings, Memo couldn't quell the fury she felt suddenly towards the dogs. Her cool, calm, reserved nature turned suddenly savage at the knowledge that Penny, a bitch she felt a strong friendship for was hurting emotionally. She watched Penny eat, and slowly she rolled onto her side and stood up. Her ears were slicked back and her tail didn't tuck between her legs like usual. It curled out behind her. She peered sideways at Penny and smiled softly. "You finish it- my stomach is upset today."

After nosing behind Penny's ears she turned and trotted from the den and headed straight for the lounging males. Her trot was stiff, and her eyes swept over Hollywood and his fondlings and landed on Wings. She stopped on the other side of Hollywood, somewhat in front of them both and she craned her head back. "Wings...can I speak with you for a moment?" she said softly, hopeful Penny wouldn't overhear.

At first the other's ministrations were soothing and he was only too happy to let him do as he pleased. Wings hadn't managed to get anywhere really near Penny recently, and as they were normally the ones to take care of each other he had missed the contact, the scratching of an itchy spot he couldn't reach. For a moment he allowed himself to stop thinking and fretting, and just be still.

Then he felt a paw slip over his own forelegs, and just as he started to pull back his ears Hollywood's tongue was working its way up his neck. Wings's ears flattened. That feeling of wrongness was back with a vengeance. But why? Hollywood was his packmate, after all, had been for a long time now. Why should it feel wrong, then? Why should he feel uncannily as if Hollywood were a bitch in season, smiling ingratiatingly, pleading for-

"Wings...can I speak with you for a moment?"

With a start, Wings looked up to find the fawn and white, Memo, standing before him. Was it just his imagination or was the look in her eyes somewhat resigned?

Glad for the excuse to get out of this most confusing state of events, Wings got to his feet hurriedly and gave himself a shake. "Yes, certainly. What is it?"

Hollywood perked his ears when memo came forward and he listened to her request. A moment later and his ears were laid flat, and a jealous expression swept across his face, and his usually bright and happy eyes darkened. What was she doing? His eyes met hers briefly and he tried to convey his curiosity to her, but the look was so brief he doubted the bitch even knew he was angry. He didn't stand up, but continued to lay in his spot and suddenly he felt like something cold had crawled into his breast and was settled there. He'd felt the ever so slight tensing of Wings body beneath his tongue, and he knew that to be a sign of discomfort. Hollywood knew the seal and white dog didn't feel the same as he did, but he held hope that maybe...

It never occurred to him that is was foolish for him to believe such a thing.

The fawn bitch watched Wings stand and she tried to mask her face of the emotions matching inside of her like a line of red ants. Her heated blood burned through her veins and her trot was stiff as she moved forward several paces. "A private word..." she paused a moment, wondering if that would turn the conservative dog off to her council, and so she baited him coolly, calmly, ever so softly, "it is regarding Penny," she breathed and as she thought of the heartbreaking state of the confused copper bitch, she allowed worry to seep over her face. She didn't push the matter, afraid that if she gave too many explanations it would raise a red flag, and so with her piece said she trotted forward and past a woody thicket and made a path straight through the forest, leading out of earshot of the den, hoping he would follow.

Hollywood slowly stood up, waiting and watching to see if Wings would follow Memo, his breath caught in his throat and muscles tense with his fury at the female he once called a friend.

Wings laid his ears back, even more confused than before. What had Penny to do with anything -- or what had anything to do with Penny? Could Memo want to inform him of something that would explain why his companion had been treating him so coldly as of late? A small pang of hurt stung him. How long had Penny and he known and run with each other? Forever, of course. And Memo, did she now know more about her than he did? It was not a comforting thought.

At any rate, his instincts told him that something was wrong and that this was important, and licking his nose nervously he set off after her, giving Hollywood a brief backward glance over his shoulder. The fawn bitch's scent was as alluring as ever but it was Penny he was worried about now.

Memo trotted from the shelter for quite a ways. She wanted to assure that she and Wings were out of earshot and eyeshot before she spoke with him. She didn't know what could be overheard, and she certainly didn't want Penny or Hollywood to overhear what she had to say. Thoughts of Penny, sad and upset, roared through her mind and caused her to feel the anger even as she trotted, even as her thoughts started to question her premeditated actions. Her second thoughts were starting to grow, and then as she trotted faster and deeper into the woods the future reared it's ugly head. What would happen if she did let Wings know how dumb she thought he was? Would Penny understand? Would she be ousted from the pack?

Finally the fawn bitch slowed to a stop and turned to watch Wings. She didn't try to conceal the fury in her eyes now, and suddenly the cold breeze of late winter didn't seem so cold with the anger riding her. Her blood was hot, and her actions suddenly didn't seem rash at all. Frustrated with her heat and the fact that yet again she would not know what it was to be a mother, and that yet again she wouldn't know the primal love of a dog...because her "mate" her dog, was chattering sweet nothings into this sable and white male's ears while he ignored Penny's own sufferings. Troubled deeply, even more so now with her thoughts she came towards Wings.

The muddy swamp of her own mind tried to make reason for her actions, lest she be asked later. Then, as swift as her ancestors Memo leaped for Wings, her long legs outstretched. Her paws reached to slam against his back as she was hard-wired to do for prey, and then her mouth snaked out, her jaws opened wide as her teeth flashed, aiming to land a bite on his neck as she rushed him. A savage growl bled from her long throat while she was airborne, and when she landed she didn't waste any time wondering if she'd hit him or not. She stood between him and the path to the den, a demonic glare on her pale colored face as her eyes flashed over his body, sighting his neck. Then she tore towards him, great clods of dried grass and dirt flinging up from her paws from her standing start, and she peeled her jaws wide, aiming her teeth for his neck with the intent to pierce.

To punish.

Hollywood waited quietly where Wings had left him, his ears up and eyes alert in the direction the other male had gone with Memo. Then, slowly, Hollywood started forward...ambling slowly after the pair.

Was it just his imagination or was her gait just slightly stiffer, just a touch more purposeful than it normally was? Was it simply the state she was in -- even, perhaps, the state that he was in? That tension in the chill air might have been something that his own fevered mind was fabricating. Ears pulling back, he licked his nose anxiously. This had to be serious, whatever it was. He kept trotting after her, until she halted, and turned her face to him.

He had only just enough time to register the anger in her eyes and her obvious intent before she sprang at him lightning-fast, without even a warning growl. Whatever he had been preparing himself for, it certainly hadn't been this. Wings only had time to dodge back slightly before her blow caught him across the muzzle, and he gave a startled yelp of pain and shock before staggering backwards. Alarmed, he saw her heading towards him again, furious and blind with it, striking at him again with dizzying speed.

He was faster this time, and merely felt the wind of her passage as she flew past him. Whirling around, head and ears and tail held low, he watched for her with wild eyes. Confusion and shock were slowly giving way to a dull purpose, and the marks across his muzzle stung as a gust of wind swirled around his face. Submitting wasn't going to work, her intent was to hurt, perhaps to kill. What could he do? He didn't want to hurt her, but he might be forced to.

The one thing he would not do was roll over and expose his belly. Some resentment burned in him at the thought. He had done nothing wrong and there was no reason for him to submit completely.

He waited, simply, tense and shaken, for her to charge again. There had to be some way he could end this.

Memo flung herself again at Wings, a loud snarl issuing again from her mouth and deep in her throat. Her teeth snapped together near his head, missing his ear by a fraction. Her front paws lifted then, aiming to ride his back as she pointed her muzzle for the back of his neck and the loose skin of his scruff. But before she could grab a firm hold on his flesh and fur her hind legs switched positions and her right hind leg failed to find ground. Instead it was met with empty air and she lost her balance. The fawn bitch fell, crashing to the ground with a breathless yelp, then a drawn out moan as she attempted to regain her breath. Memo's jaws were still parted, jowls lifted to show her long sharp teeth as she struggled wildly with her body to stand again, failing to free her leg from the hole it fell in, her hock bent and wedged in the rabbit hole's slanting depths. She began to cry out frantically, wordless canine screams that didn't sound normal...didn't sound right. At that moment Memo looked utterly feral with her lips pulled back and teeth showing, foam lathered at the corners of her mouth and eyes wild as she wrenched and writhed with her three free legs. Each pull was painful, every straining tug sent a jolt of fiery pain along the whipcord tendon of her caught leg, and stabbed deep in her thigh muscle. Her eyes sought out Wings once more and she barked at him. The sound was high pitched and wordless, and aggressive. She snapped at him again and again as she strove to get free.

"Run..."

The voice was calm and assertive, and the brindle and white male stared in disgust at Memo. He'd seen her fly at Wings and then fall to the ground, trapped in her own foolish carelessness. He was furious, angered deep to his core as he remembered the yelp of pain from Wings. He spared the sable and white dog a glance before he advanced several paces towards Memo. He'd never before looked as intimidating as he did now. His ears were slicked back, his neck proudly arched and tail curved, but lifted, the tip higher than his topline. "Go back to Penny," he very nearly spat at the male. Cold eyes focused on his foaming partner as strange emotions flooded through him. She'd hurt Wings, betrayed the male's trust, disrupted the balance of the pack, stepped over the line. It was then and there that Hollywood realized Memo was never meant to be wild. Somewhere along the lines of hunting and surviving they all had forgotten to search for home, and the wildness of them, their feral instincts were taking control...somewhat.

Memo, he slowly realized, was losing her reason and ability to rationalize. She'd jumped to violence without warning, without speaking to Wings. A growl started rumbling from deep in his throat and the fawn bitch snarled at him, snapping at his distant legs as her overly long claws tilled the winter soil in her attempt to get free. Was it the stress? Was it the heat coursing through her? Was it...something else entirely?

Feral instincts flooded his mind as well, and as a dominant male he felt the urge riding him hard, the urge to put her in her place and his more rational mind felt the desire to avenge Wings.

He rose to meet her, then, as she returned, his own long jaws wide and ready to grab her before she could him. Twisting his own neck, he too sought for a hold, some place on her throat, to keep those snapping jaws and tearing teeth at bay, and from which he could throw her to the ground, perhaps stun the fury out of her.

Then all of a sudden it was over, as before he could get any purchase on her she slipped and fell, writhing, onto the earth. All of a sudden Memo was no longer a fearsome, vengeful creature, a force to be reckoned with, but an animal in pain, and Wings put his ears back as he backed away from her continued struggles and snaps, his tail seeking refuge between his legs.

"Go back to Penny."

Hollywood was hovering over them, looking more terrible than Wings had ever seen him, and the sight shocked the pied dog to the core. He cowered, lowering his head, and licked his torn nose. It seemed to him as if he had never really known either of these dogs, never mind all the days that they had run and hunted together, and all the nights that they had curled together, their piled bodies a warm shield against the cold. All the shock and horror of the past few minutes seemed to have obliterated, in one fell swoop, all of that time spent as any semblance of a pack. It was just too much for him, and Wings, not knowing what else to do or how to act, mutely and meekly did as he was told. Turning away, he fled blindly back the way he had come, back to the den.

He didn't care if she did tear into him for intruding on 'her' space. He would welcome it. She had been and still was, it seemed, all he had left to count on.

He appeared in the entrance so suddenly that the red bitch had hardly time to look up before he skidded for a stop before the spot where she still lay, curled up, beside what was left of the rabbit corpse. Penny's ears rose, her dark eyes widened, and she started up in righteous indignation.

"Now look 'ere, what-" She stopped, suddenly. "You've hurt yourself."

Wings lowered his head and whined, softly, a wordless high noise. He didn't know what exactly he looked like to her, but his face was certainly starting to sting.

"Go on, then, bite me," he whispered harshly, "rip me up, go on. I'm in your den and I'm sorry. I'm sorry, sorry for everything, even the things I didn't do. I don't even care anymore whether you bite me. I don't know anything, I can't do anything right, and if you want to tear my face off for it, then you can just go on."

She did nip at him then, but a tiny sting with a fang, on the side of his head, the sort of correction a dam would administer to an errant puppy. "Oh, shut up. And lie down for Canis' sake, you're hurt and I want to look."

Surprise showing in his dark eyes at her response, he dropped immediately to his belly with an immediacy that would have delighted any obedience handler, and rolled over onto his side. He was still panting, both from the shock and from the exertion of the fight, and his breath came ragged in his throat. He licked his nose again, nervously, as she bent over him, the breath from her own nose tickling his whiskers as she sniffed at him. Eventually deciding with a soft snort that she was satisfied with her inspection, she plopped to her own belly beside him and set to work cleaning the tears in his face.

"Spotted fool," he heard her mutter to herself as she worked, but he could care less. This was the She that he knew, and the tip of his tail thumped weakly on the soft earth.

It would be some time later, after he had been soothed enough by her presence and her ministrations, that he would get up and ask again the same question that he had been asking all the past week. And this time she would let him.

He wouldn't repeat the words again, and he was pretty sure Memo had gotten the message loud and clear. With the issue resolved and an understanding met there was no reason to hold a grudge against the palomino colored bitch. He'd helped her free her leg and now they were making their way back to the den site for the night.

The sun was slipping beneath the horizon painting the world in purple and red. Pastel pinks burned to blazing crimson in the bruising sky, and the sun didn't hurt to look at. The bright orange sphere, now sliced in half thanks to the edge of the world, whispered ghostly light across the span of world. The shadows of the trees around the brindle dog and fawn bitch stretched long reaching fingers through the wood, striping their coats with bands of shadowy black and gray. Hollywood didn't look back at Memo behind him, merely slipped through the shadowy bars and trunks until the den came into sight. He stopped then and stood, facing the den. Two things crashed into him in that instant; Wings was not outside the den, and Memo was probably not the only one that was in heat.

A sick feeling crept into his belly as he stared at the place he had occupied with Wings. The taste of the other dog was still strong in his mouth, and his ears slid back on his neck. Crippled with emotion, the only movement the dog could make was to bow his swan like neck and stare sadly at the ground at his paws. It shouldn't have been news, it shouldn't have hurt because he knew Wings was Penny's and he was hers.

But it did.

Behind him Memo looked up from the ground and looked to Hollywood. She noticed his posture and moved forward towards him on her long legs, lowering her neck and reaching her nose for his face slowly. "Hollywood," she said quietly as she looked at his disheartened face. "This is how it should be...Penny and Wings- they love one another." Fawn colored ears laid against her neck. "I know," the dog replied.

Recollecting himself, Hollywood trudged towards the bole of a familiar tree that he had slept beneath before. It was slightly sheltered and when he laid down and curled into a ball he lifted his eyes to Memo as she lay down near a small cluster of rocks that were about her height when standing. She reclined back against the sun warmed rocks and then laid her head on her paws. Dark eyes stared into the trees ahead of her and distantly a bird hooted into the night. The sun was gone now and the moon took the throne in the sky, shining milk white light onto the wilderness. Memo's creamy coat was shadowed by the rocks and Hollywood watched her for a moment more before he stood up and turned in three tight circles before finally settling down with his back to the female.

Memo finally closed her eyes and rolled onto her side, stretching out her body as her racing mind settled into a peaceful lull for sleep. Nightmares gripped her soon, however, and the bitch slept fitfully.