Hollow (open)

[Disturbed]

Zeta

On the corner of Raster Boulevard and Jacobson Street, over-looking an alleyway, a brass balcony glistens in the sunset light. The golden-copper finish on the pristine carved railing seems to outline the curved edge of the concrete platform with stars from the dimming dusk-filled sky, the edges twinkling as the breeze flutters the loose fittings and shakes the lightweight object like a toddler shakes and brand new toy. Playful, calming, welcoming, teasing...

... taunting...

.... haunting....

A very happy house pet used to sleep on that perch in the warm Maine summer noons, carefully watching the world pass below him, waiting for a familiar face to meander through the crowd. He used to jump up happily when he finally picked the face of a Chinese man and his daughter from the afternoon masses and, joyously, the young dog would woof them a pleasant greeting before waiting for one of them to open the patio door and allow him to return to the warmth of their cushy apartment home.

Once, that was the white doberman's daily afternoon schedule.

Once, the word home meant something to him.

Love, compassion, all seemed so fleeting from where he stood in the balcony's shadow, two or three stories below. The alley pavement seemed so cold and unforgiving compared to the plush carpeting and slick hardwood floor of the kitchen. Even the warm sunset felt like a fire licking at his back, exposing him, tearing at him from all sides, no walls to keep it at bay. It raked its claws against his once clean, crisp, white furred flesh, exposing the sensitive skin beneath until it bled tears and pain, hate and sorrow, leaving him so empty...

Hollow even.

Growing sick of the sight, the doberman turned slowly, continuing his light, steady trot down the alleyway behind his old home. He nearly got all the way down it, past all the dumpsters and trash cans, many still full of rotting garbage. Past the children's toys left out in sun, past the picket fence from the house next door, past all the empty apartments and locked garages that couldn't hear his desperate cries from long ago, that couldn't reach up and save him from himself those long, hungry days. To the end, the end of the alley. He was but a mere step from the street and the rest of the town, frantically packing up their things before the hour turned to night, and the curs came out to dance. A single step was all he needed...

... when he stopped to look back.

[Shadowfax]

Like all other nights since the wild sighting of the Black Cur, Gypsy sat motionless on the front lawn like a statue on the lookout, for what she refered to him as a mere shadow. The grass beneath her paws were thick with dew, but the coolness of the grass did not phase her. It did not matter. She was used to it by now.

But all she could think about was the Black Cur. What if he showed up? What was the point of waiting up all night for him, when their will be nothing more than a paw-shake. That is, if her chocolate eyes could even spot the fabled canine. But still, it was worth a try. Especially since the sleeping pekinese dog across the street would give a damn.

She yawned, as her jaw opened wide enough to swallow that mere pekinese. At least she was trying. She got up, and arched her aching back. Sitting there for too long each night really took its toll on her. She walked slowly and cautiously up to the fence, and then used the rock next to it to elevate her up. With one swift movement, Gypsy jumped over the small fence. If only her owners would realise she could do that. Luckily for her, she was loyal enough to return each night.

She took a midnight stroll through the alleyway, which was located around the corner. A short walk. She turned the bend, to find a white dog heading the opposite direction. The quiet patter of footsteps she made, was enough to make him turn around. She held her breath, but realised it was one of the strays she had seen a few times before. Unfortunally, they have never met personally.

"You know, it's rather dangerous to be out here by yourself," She said quietly, as she took a few steps towards him, "Especially since what's been happening lately."

[Disturbed]

Zeta

Though the doberman's icy blue attention had been upon the backside of a place once thought sanctuary, quite suddenly, a voice yanked it down toward the dark shadow of a canine form at the opposite end of the alley. The alley was not long and the two dogs were close enough to hear each other speak, but, in the dimming light, the two might as well have been miles apart in terms of sight. To him, the mysterious female was nothing more than a vague inky blotch in the shadow of a place he'd rather not revisit. Weary, the white male turned slowly, standing sideways with his right side- his good side, to the strange fae who dared to confront him in the quickly darkening twilight.

Yet he moved with no aggression, spoke with no malice and retained his poise and grace as though he'd known the female rottweiler all his life, his head held high but not in a haughty or arrogant manner. Confident, unafraid, though his level stub of a tail seemed to contradict.

"I'm more than well aware. Though this, coming from a female with no one to accompany her across the streets... Aren't you being a bit hypocritical?"

Uninterested in starting a fight, the doberman kept his tone light and his stance relaxed, the evening breeze tussling his tall ears slightly as it whistled on by.

[Shadowfax]

Gypsy looked at the white canine, a doberman cross, who looked rather rundown ffrom her perspective. Maybe it was the shadows playing on his features, making him look almost hollow and gaunt. But what else would you expect on a cool clear night like this?

Her eyes gleamed in the moonlight, altough dark, they showed a sign of authority, despite her being a female. "Fellow canine, we are not in the middle ages. The ages for the males accompaning the females have been and gone," She walked closer to him, and then stopped a few meters from where the white canine stood, "The name is Gyspy. I am nothing more than a house dog. Probably more of a guard dog than any other dog down the street."

She laughed, although the other dog might not be so lucky. Maybe the laugh was the release some tension, but any sign of movement around her caused her hair to stand on end. But still, it was not every night she could talk to another canine.