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Sinewy toes that looked like they had just wandered free of snow trotted forth. Ambling forward in a gate that reeked and oozed of excessive testosterone. Korvette had nothing to preoccupy him today, just a mild hunger and growing boredom egged him on. Graycott was different from his homeland, it was picturesque and pristine almost and incredibly boring. The nature of the prankster was challenged, the quiet of the sleepy towns and its surrounding praries left him alone with his thoughts. Something he wasn't keen on ever being introduced to for any extended period of time. His snow pelt reflected all the skeletons in his closet and he had just started getting good at out running them. His echoing mind had just begun to wander when a musky unfamiliar scent tinged his black nostrils.
He puckered his nose and drew in the aroma as deeply as he could. It was sincerely different from anything he had ever encountered. Excited at the prospect Korvette launched his body into a hearty lope, relishing the sensation of his muscles unfurling beneath his ivory pelt. Kor gave him self a shake mid-run and laughed foolishly to himself. Aye, maybe now he would begin to have some fun. The surrounding prairie around him had grown tall in the absence of humans tending it and he was forced to pump the brakes when the grass abruptly ended. Depositing him firmly on the edge of a bison herd; his forelegs dug deep into the soft earth leaving rows of skidmarks behind him.
Korvette's ice blue eyes drank in the scene before him. These hulking brown brutes grazed lazily, swishing their tails in lazy appreciation of the sunny days. "Now what in the seven hells are you..?" He tossed the question to the nearest beast. He rose to all four and shook out his pelt, flexing his paws that had begun to throb. Walking slowly around the herd, he noticed a few brown things were significantly smaller than the rest. "Oh..so these behemoth mountains of moving shit have babes..." He pondered out loud. Without a thought he drove straight into the heart of the herd, running like a bat out of hell. "Oh this is gonna be great fun." He thought to himself as he snapped at one of the bison calfs, turning only when a trumpet of anger sounded behind him. A mother bison in all of her glowering rage charged after him. She closed the distance between them with surprising gusto and a dull horn manged to snag Kor in the side. Effectively tossing him some way away from the calves. "Oh that..that's gonna hurt like hell later." Kor realized his mistake and withdrew himself, dodging angry feet and hot breath as he raced out of the herd. Resting only when he reached the top of a grassy knoll. Rolling to his side, he let the adrenaline wash over him like a bath. Sometimes he wondered if he had a death wish.
TAG: @opem | WORDS: IDK | NOTES: FEEL FREE TO GOD MOD- OPEN TO ANYONE
The sun smiled down upon the reddish dog's back as he loped along through the golden grasses of the prairie, parting them carefully with his gentle gait and compact build. He sighed at the pleasant sensation of light as it warmed his tired back and aching shoulders, muscles made weary from the nonstop traveling he seemed to be doing as of late. There wasn't much he could do except travel, since his livelihood and work was now a thing of the past and his purpose in the world was now poorly defined. Rooster didn't like to dwell on what had been and instead tried to focus on what could be, but today it seemed like his past would resurface, whether his mind traveled there on its own accord or not.
As Rooster continued his lonely exodus to nowhere in particular, a rather familiar set of sounds in the distance caught his attention. The red merle cattledog paused, rooted to spot as his erect ears swiveled around to try and pinpoint the direction of the commotion. His weary eyes suddenly cleared, bright and alert now that instinct was beginning to draw him out of himself. The sounds in the distance were so familiar, because a dog like Rooster could never forget where he came from and the things he had been taught. His instincts, his origins...everything he was was centered around the meaning and duty behind those noises.
Cattle in distress.
The stout brute was no fool, however, and did not go rushing forward without caution. He carefully lowered himself into a stalking stance, proceeding with a swift, light gait that was well practiced from his time as a ranch dog. The grasses provided enough shadow to camouflage him and his dappled coat, moving as one with the wavering stalks of the golden grasses. He came to the edge of a gentle slope in the landscape, his angular snout poking out from the foliage. His deep golden brown eyes caught the blur of winter white. It was another dog and this dog was headed straight for a herd of bison, fresh with new calves. These bovines hadn't been the kind to grace his ranch, but Rooster was very familiar with the wild creatures so closely related to the ones master kept.
Rooster was also familiar with how cattle handled threats to their young. He was curious to see if this white blur of a dog knew exactly what he was getting into. Taking on a herd with calves was not for the novice, nor the faint of heart. The cattledog felt the hair at the nape of his neck rise, but he stayed still and didn't break position. He had an inkling the bovines had the upperhand and that his white, eager friend down there was inexperienced.
And as if to prove his hypothesis, the dumb creature actually started talking to the cattle. Asking questions, stalking around them and testing the distance. Rooster couldn't fight the urge to smirk, and allowed his hair to fall flat. What a rube! The other dog was excited by the prospect of his find and Rooster could feel it in the air, but he could also feel the rising distress of the herd. It was only a matter of time before they schooled this young moron in the fine art of leaving their babes the hell alone. Rooster snickered lightly, now content to recline on his haunches.
This would be an amusing show.
With disgust and mean amusement in his eyes, Rooster observed as the white dog plunged into the thick of the cattle, a ball of chaos and lacking the subtle grace the cattledog possessed himself. The deep, warning lows from bison touched the primal side of Rooster and he wondered if the white dog would back off; but no, he didn't. The reckless dog instead plunged without care, his open teeth gnashing for a calf.
"Big mistake, buddy." Rooster chuckled softly, his face serene. The mother of the calf charged him, bearing down on him with horns sharper and more deadly than any tooth in a dog's head. "Oooweee, that's gotta hurt," the cattledog cackled quietly as he watched the female bison gore the white trouble maker, sending him off with a great amount force.
Rooster watched as the white dog gained some air, his eyes sparkling with humor as he watched the stranger beat a hasty retreat away from the herd. Rooster couldn't resist any longer and began a slow pursuit of the stranger, walking swiftly but in no hurry.
He trailed the white dog to a knoll resting gently above the herd, listening to the stranger mutter to himself as he splayed along the ground in exhaustion. Rooster kept some distance between him and this new guy, but his voice had no problem traveling.
"Boy, that was the saddest display of cattle herdin' I have ever seen in my life," he tried to come off scathing, but he couldn't keep the contempt out of his tone. "I mean really, son. That was the dumbest damn thing I have ever seen. Where the hell you from, 'cause you obviously don't know how nothin' works out here in the pasture. You never mess with calves, especially if they are in the middle of the herd." He shook his head, disapproving. "Even coyotes got more sense than that."
Rooster wasn't one to make friends easily and it didn't help he was so blunt.
His breaths came in ragged torrents that made his ribs hurt worse than a shot in the ass. "Geez it's not like I actually bit that little..moving turd pile." He said aloud, not really talking to anyone but not really musing to himself either. He peaked an icy eye open to stare down the bison but in actuality he was making sure that vengeful mother wasn't on her way to give him round two. Deciding he was out of immediate danger, he closed his eyes once more only to be disturbed by the very southern drawl of a rednose.
Rolling to his bruised and battered underbelly, he snapped his head in the direction of the stranger. Peering down the length of his handsome, insolent muzzle. The stout build of a mottled mutt lumbered into his view and a coy smirk touched his black lips. Korvette was a stupid mixture of overcooked testosterone and machismo, the kind that did and said stupid shit for fun. "Oi, you gotta mouth that runs faster than your feet because I sure as hell didn't see you hustling to help any." Kor quipped back, he wasn't one to be chastised, especially when he made the dumb decision to be...naturally who he was. "And nobody said anything about those sweaty brown lumps down there hauling ass as quick as they did." He added. Honestly he hadn't expected them to move as fast they did and his bruised ribs were a testament.
He was still talking to himself! Rooster flicked an ear at such a peculiar habitat, watching and waiting for the northern bred dog to acknowledge he was no longer alone and had a very critical audience at his doorstep. Rooster eyed the other subtly, sizing him up just in case he wasn't just crazy. Crazy Rooster could navigate just fine, but he didn't prefer to keep company with those who couldn't take a little harping from time to time.
The stranger lolled around on the grass for a moment, one icy eye sliding open. It was then Rooster was finally noticed and the cattledog resisted the urge to spit on the grass to define his space on the prairie. He definitely wasn't like any other dog Rooster had seen, what with his piercing blue eyes and bright white fur. His demeanor was shifting too and Rooster could sense a cockiness in this fellow that urged the cattledog to be wary of him, should he decide that Rooster's brand of opinions were too sharp for him to take. Rooster could keep himself in check when needed, but a part of him wanted to deflate this guy's ego just a bit.
He was quick on the draw, shooting off to Rooster directly instead of taking on the defense. The mottled dog kind of admired that, his red lips drawing up into a half-grin. Rooster wasn't about to be outdone and shot back, "Actually, this mouth ain't nothin' compared to what my feet can do." He said it without arrogance and presented it as mere fact, reclining down on his haunches to sit and rest said feet, which were aching from a long day's wandering. He didn't need to prove anything to this guy and said so flatly,"I got more than enough sense not to go racin' into a herd of bison fresh with calves, son. I only happened by because I was hustlin' to see if the cattle needed help," his eyes were dancing with devilish laughter,"but I see they didn't need my expertise none. They know how to handle themselves around the clumsy likes of you. You ain't got the good sense the creator gave a rock. You never go for the spry and young. They'll outrun you, and if they don't, the momma is gonna run over you before you get the chance to sink your teeth in, especially when she's less'n a foot away!"
He made himself comfortable, despite sharing the company of a strange dog. He watched the bison resume their grazing, but he noticed a new vigilance within the herd. Their big, black eyes looked stupid but they were far from it. They were a unit, all brains uniting to make them efficient survivors. He detected a slight petulance in the white dog's voice but decided to ignore it and tone down his criticism,"Oh yeah. They look big'n clumsy, but they were made to move like lighting. To be a cattle driver, you gotta be quick on your feet. And you can't go bargin' in and expecting somethin' to happen. You gotta know how the herd moves together and you always stick to the edge, dart in and drive from the ankle without gettin' kicked." He felt the contempt slipping away to be replaced by nostalgia.
He missed his job at the master's ranch. He had been bred and born to move cattle and it had been his soul purpose on this earth. His master loved it too, and when he drove cattle for the master, he felt on top of the world. Though he was probably as old as the blue-eyed mischief maker, he felt ancient. Was it really so long ago that he been by his master's side? Being here now with this dog didn't feel real, it felt like a dream. He felt his mind drifting, lost in many happy memories.
His snowy tarps easily caught the new brutes quips and the way his accent crawled over every pointed comment. Kor squinted his icy eyes in his typical imperial insolence. He waited for the other dog to finish his speech and made a point to yawn at his chastising. When the brute said he was only hustling over to check on the brown lumps Kor's jaw dropped. His blue eyes widened in astonishment . "To see if they need help... You can't be bloody serious. Those dirty brown beasts don't need your saving grace. " He snapped back. Rather incredulous that this dog considered those curs before his own kind.
"As for your lessons, save em Johnny boy. I was just having a bit of fun.."see that was the problem with Korvette, he learned when he pleased or at a dead crawl. It was his nature to be controlling and a overall bastard. Maybe if dear old mother had loved him he would...well nevermind he'd still be rotten.
He cocked his handsome head when he caught the tone of the stranger changing. Slipping into something distant he wasn't meant to understand. Squinting once more and tipping his head quizzically. "Oi, don't tell me you're getting all soft and tore up about these.. cow biscuits." The more he stared at the stranger the more he realized whatever haze of emotion overcoming wasn't purely from his harrasment of his precious bison.
" Bloodfire....shit...ok, if I promise to leave your damn heffalumps alone will ya quit getting teary eyed on me. Or I swear I'll toss ya in with the lot of them on the seven gods. I SWEAR it, Johnny Boy!" His statement had gained volume towards the end, emotion made him uncomfortable. His natural instinct was to just..avoid it. He cast a glance over his shoulder toward the bison bastards, they seemed uneasy with the two of them remaining near and Kor was sure Johnny boys emotions over there weren't assuring them any.
Rooster felt an old sort of impatience with the blue-eyed fellow when he was yanked out of his memories by that condescending tone, that rising inflection of emotion. Sharply, Rooster flicked his eyes to the other's face and felt his brow crinkle up slightly. The furrows in his face did not disguise how the puerile dog was beginning to rub Rooster the wrong way. This white-furred fool wasn't about listening to good advice, it seemed, but instead this guy liked to argue. And to poke fun at a noble profession, in Rooster's opinion.
Rooster could argue a little, if he really wanted. But he didn't, he just listened to the stranger jab and poke, insisting on calling him Johnny boy, which Rooster found a little amusing and irksome all at the same time. He felt the nostalgia from earlier beginning to recede and now he felt exasperation. What a storm cloud this guy was! He knew every slang in the book for a bison, but couldn't comprehend his own mistake. Nor could he comprehend how mild Rooster was actually being, but it seemed even mildness could crank this guy's tail in a knot.
The mottled dog huffed out a sigh, his tongue rolling to form a sentence before the other guy imploded,"Hey, why don't you just take a breath for a minute, fella. No need to go and get in a twist." He narrowed his golden brown eyes, ignoring the threats the insolent dog was spatting out at him. "I used to be rancher and it's kind of my thing," he said steadily, but there was a warning to his tone that suggested the other just hush for a minute and listen. "There's an art to cattle, a way to make'em do what you want without nobody getting hurt. They don't make me teary eyed, I just have memories like everyone else does. Got myself caught in them for a minute. I don't care whether or not you try and harass them again. Like I said, they know how to deal with predators like you." He emphasized this again while following the white dog's gaze. The group of bison were no longer content and were beginning to grow restless and the icy-eyed dog was noticing it, too. The dogs and their shifting emotions were beginning to bleed over and have an effect on the herd.
Soon, they'd charge.
"I think, disagreements aside," Rooster said carefully, his eyes now watching the behavior of the herd. A large male was glancing over, pawing at the earth and shaking his massive head. The few new calves were now in the middle, ushered in by adult females twenty times their size. Big, black eyes full of bovine intelligence were gathered on the dogs. Rooster realized this was a harem, and the attention the male bison was giving them was not a pleasant sign. "Disagreements aside... I think we need to get ready to consider the possibility that these 'heffalumps' are gettin' pissed." Rooster wasn't wrong either, because now the bison were bleating, bellowing, and stamping angrily in unison. Rooster had been almost trampled a time or two in the line of duty, and those hooves were nothing to mess around with. The lead male had now swung himself over, his horns glinting in the sunlight. He was looking at the two dogs with challenge in his posture.
"No sudden moves," the cattledog warned. But how well the stranger was going to listen....Rooster didn't have much faith.
Korvette tilted his head in that petulant manner. Listening, but distracted, he flickered his ears but his attention had begun to wander increasingly towards the damn heffalumps. They were restless and Kor could feel the hair on his nape rising with each passing minute.
The snowy brute turned his attention back to his mottled counterpart." A rancher..huh..You mean to tell me you rolled around in the dirt with these cattleclumps..for fun..?" Kors question came a tense smattering of incredulous disbelief. Who in the hell would play with bison or cattle, whatever the hell they were, willingly.
His ice eyes turned back to the bison, squinting at them as if lasers were coming out of his orbs. "Aye Johnny Boy, I think you're right about these bison getting a tad bent out of shape" He agreed quietly. The alpha bull was challenging now, bellowing and huffing in the dry prairie dust. "No sudden moves."The sage advice passed through one ear and out the other. Kor was incorrigible and ever the confrontational trickster.
In one dumb second the white phantom was off like a bullet. Streaking across the prairie in that fool hardy bravado. The bull had kept his head lowered while kicking up the dirt, giving Kor enough time to make his death wish. Gaping jaws adorned with ivory fangs sank into the soft and moist nose of the bull. And a bellow so intense with rage cut clear across the open space like a bullhorn.
As quick as his teeth had sunk in they were gone and Kor was high tailing it back up the hill towards his new companion. "Oi, that ought to show them huh." Korvette called out in a tone made purely of childish excitement, as if he had just gotten away with sticking his paw in the cookie jar. Tossing a look over his shoulder, his eyes widened comically. "Oh shit! STAMPEDE" His legs went into overdrive and he passed by the red mottled dog like a bat out of hell. "Run Johnny Boy, run! He didn't wait to see if the dog moved his ass or not. Hey he had said he worked cattle, he'd be alright...right?
Never a dull moment with Korvette lmao. Feel free to god mod!! Ibdont care what happens to Kor.
"So if you see me walkin’ all alone, Don’t look back, I’m just on my way back home."
Rooster met the combative male with nothing more than a nod, managing to grunt roughly in the back of his throat in response to the Northern dog's slightly insulting insinuation that Rooster actually rolled around with the bison. He would not dare give this white trouble-maker the satisfaction of seeing how much that irked him, but he also wouldn't give him the pleasure of hearing the mottled dog's recollections, either. It would be a waste of good memory and a waste of a good story on deaf ears like his. But the unrest from the bison was growing and with it, Rooster was growing more and more concerned. Hadn't this guy listened to him at all? Heeded the caution he was trying to project?
Perhaps he was, because finally those icy eyes were seeing what Rooster's own golden brown ones were. Still, he continued to call Rooster Johnny Boy, but the cattledog did not have time to build fury at such a petty act of conduct. He was getting distracted himself, his eyes trying to flicker quickly between the dog and the herd. He had warned the other dog not to move suddenly, and for a moment Rooster had hope he would be able to leave here unscathed.
That hope was shattered when the white dog went charging like a kamikaze into the midst of the herd, once more throwing himself into danger with reckless abandon. Rooster was horrified, but sadly, not shocked as the idiot went on the attack. Already, this defiant creature was beginning to grow predictable. It was foolish, running in and clamping down on the bull's nose. The cattledog had seen quite enough and knew that whatever tentative truce between the dogs and the herd was now shattered, That was a first strike, the first offense after trying to assault a calf.
And it would be the white dog's last one. Rooster gained his feet, quickly putting some distance between himself and the herd as the white bullet streaked back to momentary safety. Rooster could feel adrenaline beginning to spike, coursing throughout his body in preparation for whatever repercussions the herd was about to deliver.
The crazy white beast was coming back to join Rooster, but already Rooster had a few feet ahead of the crazy asshole. He was talking, actually laughing, pleased with what he had done. Rooster narrowed his eyes at the other dog, a growl beginning to rise in his throat. He was such a child, his manner so juvenile that he made Rooster feel over a hundred in years. "You half-wit, motherfu-," the angry retort to his behavior was cut short, because the word 'stampede' really brought Rooster back into reality. Like a flash, the moron dog blazed passed him. The herd had now gained motion, a deep thunderous echo was beginning to fill Rooster's ears. They were gaining momentum and their warpath was lined with both Rooster and the fleeing Korvette.
The old instincts were coming back and Rooster knew it would be a mistake to join the white dog in a flat-pursuit. He thought he was clever and funny, but this herd was angry and the bull was leading the charge. Rooster took one glance at the bull and could see the rage boiling in those bovine depths. That bull wanted the white dog and was not about to let him slip away.
With a graceful turn, Rooster started a low sprint and aimed his direction toward the cattle, instead of away from them. He was swift, rushing low to the ground and swinging a wide crescent path around the herd. He needed to get behind them. He could smell their scent and feel the thunderous vibrations of their charge, his face alert and focused. He noticed that even though he himself was coming back to the herd in a closer proximity, the lead bull was paying the red and white cattledog no attention. He wanted the white streak, the twice aggressor. Oh shit, that bull wants to kill that moron.
For half a second, Rooster was tempted. The herd hadn't cared that he was swinging a wide arch around them- they were focused on the flat run that was taking place, charging after the petulant pup, and Rooster almost broke away and retreated to safety to watch how the bullet handled himself then. He thought being trampled was a pretty good lesson for this arrogant fool to learn, but Rooster also knew that in his heart he couldn't let that happen. Once a stampede was initiated, it was hard to stop. Their target, they'd pursue. If they caught him, they'd stomp and gore him to death.
With a muttered curse under his breath, Rooster pulled his curving path of motion tighter, hugging close to the rough circle the bison had already formed for themselves. He wheeled with ease and practice, turning sharply to run up behind the herd. He snapped at the hocks of the cows in the back, commanding they pay attention to him. He dropped back just as one cow kicked back. A bleat and a snort, then half the herd was aware of the aggressor in the back.
Quickly, Rooster closed the distance again, snapping and darting sharply to the right. He wanted to move the group to the left, to turn them off their course so the white idiot could have a clean getaway. The cows aggressively snorted, wailing that he stop his attack. Putting on a burst of speed, Rooster managed to run parallel to the bison running in the middle and again he snapped, going close to the ankle. He began a series of furious barks, drawing more and more attention to himself. He drove them with his snapping mouth, urging them to turn direction. But the bull was still at the lead, and while the cows wanting to break and escape Rooster's gaping mouth, the cattledog knew that would never happen unless he intercepted their leader.
Pumping his legs as fast as they would carry him, the cattledog felt every fiber in his body heat up intensely. He could feel pain in his sides has his breath began to come up ragged, but he was gaining on the lead and was not apt to just give up. That old cattledog blood was pulsing through him and he would finish this drive, no matter the cost. Like a rocket, Rooster drove himself to the front, his legs extending impressively for one of his compact size.
The bull was now four feet from him, charging down on the white creature who was leading this chaos. They were gaining on the interloper, five feet between goring horns and soft dog flesh. With a wild roll of his eyes, Rooster closed the distance, leaping to the left and snapping his foaming mouth at the bull's hocks. The sudden intrusion on his charge was not welcomed, and the male bison let loose a furious roar from his throat, swinging his head to meet Rooster with one defined horn. Rooster was barking, loud and aggressively, nimbly avoiding the horn by weaving in a serpentine motion and darting closer and further away from the mass, taking the moments when the bull lifted his head to dive back in and snap at those ankles.
It took a few more feet of doing this before the bull grew infuriated by Rooster's constant snapping at his legs before he swung right, charging for Rooster and bringing the path of the herd with him and away from the fleeing idiot. The cattledog felt dread sink his heart. He wanted to move them left, but now they'd go right. Rooster had gained their attention and needed to lead them, but it wasn't ideal. To move the herd to his will, he needed to be in the back and on the sides. But, he had saved the sorry hide of the damn idiot in front, so that was progress.
The cattledog managed to wheel sharply, narrowly avoiding a horn to his ribs. He felt the air rush by him, a close call. The bull was snorting excitedly at Rooster's heels now and the mottled canine could feel the hot steam from his snorts on his backside. The cattledog now set the pace, leading the charging herd to the right, down a sloping hill that lead to a serene looking pond. His earlier dread and confusion was lifted, because he could use the water's edge to his advantage.
Rooster gave it everything he had and sprinted wildly, heading straight for the pond with herd on his tail. Once the water's edge was almost upon them, Rooster peeled out an abrupt U-turn and sprinted down the side of the herd. The bull was confused by this sudden change of direction and alarmed by the upcoming water and tried to wheel sharply himself, but failed, his hooves driving into the water and slowing the rate of speed at which the herd had been rushing.
Now that he was at the back, Rooster forced the cows bringing up the rear to move forward, pushing them all deeper into the water. The bull no longer had command was snorting wildly, splashing through the pond to try and regain authority. Back, left, right... Rooster snapped and barked, pushing the bison deeper into the pond until the stampede was over.
Once the last bison was half-way submerged in the pond, the mottled dog beat a hasty retreat, using the last of his energy to put a good mile or so between him and the bison, now bleating in confusion as they waded through the water. Convinced of his safety, Rooster found a thick cluster of timothy grass to collapse in, his body worn out and used. A gentle foam had formed as his muzzle, but he was panting too hard to lick it clean. He was on his side, a heap of heat and throbbing muscles, an audible rasp of rapid pants being the only noise he made. The grass was surprisingly cool, and for a moment Rooster forgot about the troublemaker.
Though it had been strenuous work, Rooster felt alive.
WarPaint - 1703- hOLY SHIT, I APOLOGIZE FOR THIS MONSTER REPLY
His streamlined physique cut easily along a narrow path , carrying him towards safety. He was foolish but it made his adrenaline pump and always made him forget his crushing depression and insecurities. Although this time he may have taken it too far. He hadn’t stopped to look back and see if the other dog had followed or even gotten out of the way. Sudden guilt overrode the naturally selfish nature of Korvette. Digging well muscled forelegs into the ground and bracing his shoulders against his own body, Korvette managed to ungracefully wheel around. While swinging about, his hind paws caught his forelegs, claws digging deep enough from the momentum to draw fresh blood. Korvette grunted but otherwise ignored the sudden sting and erupted into a full sprint.
His icy eyes searched the herd that had now turned away from him, bellowing their disdain at something else altogether. His stride faltered as he drew closer to the herd, still searching for the mottled dog. And suddenly his strange companion burst into view. Snapping and frothing at the heels of the ornery heffalumps. A small grin touched his lips, Well look at that little bastard go.” Korvette thought to himself, Good ole Johhny boy knew what he was doing and by the looks of it, he was enjoying himself.
The herd turned sharply as the red and white dog surged through the crowd, angling his stature well. Diving and leaping away from bovine rage and cloven hooves with practiced ease. Korvette steadied his stride and and ran parallel to the herd, keeping watchful eye on Johnny Boy in the event he should need help. He could feel the heat and breath of the bison on his nape but their attention had turned completely to their foreign aggressor. They weren’t the great herds of cows used to being pressured. The Bison struggled to understand their new harasser and although they resisted slightly, their instincts caved to his persistent will.
Korvette was focused on Johnny Boy when a stray hoof caught him in the shoulder. A yelp parted his jaws and he stumbled. However, despite his shortcomings, Korvette was not one to easily give away. Limping slightly he caught even with the damn cowclump and snapped at her ankle. Making sure her slight wouldn’t go unnoticed and forgotten. The she bison merely bellowed her indignation at him and kept on with her stampede. Korvette once again located the mottled dog and tried half heartedly to mimic his movements, more so concerned with just acting as a barrier.
A sudden sound like a riptide echoed through the air. The bison had plunged at full force into a pond, slowing their charge to an almost dead stop. They bellowed their confusion and dislike but the water seemed to take the heat away from their anger . Ice eyes searched through the bodies to find the mottled dog. Korvette trotted over once he found Johnny Boy, limping slightly as his shoulder began to throb.
”Well Johnny boy, I guess I owe you a thanks for saving my fur. Looked like you had some fun out there country boy. The name’s Korvette, the foolish asshole at your service. " In his typical fashion, his voice was light and still tinged with his insolent sarcasm. Although a genuine note now thrummed through his words. Despite his outward demeanor, Korvette did appreciate the red dog for his quick thinking. Not that the white bullet had thought he couldn’t outrun those damn Bison. In show of his actual gratitude, Korvette posed a question. ”I could catch us a bit of lunch if you’re up for it. He tossed a curious gaze towards the buffalo once more, panting beside the red dog. His shoulder was aching and he was suddenly, acutely aware of the gouges dug into his legs. They stung but they would scab over by nightfall. He cocked his head back at his sudden companion, awaiting an answer.
"So if you see me walkin’ all alone, Don’t look back, I’m just on my way back home."
The mottled dog could feel the intense heat slipping away from his body to melt into the sweetly cool grasses, his rapid breathing slowly returning to a natural rhythm. The foam along his lips was beginning to dry and now he had the strength to swipe his tongue over it and free himself of the scrim. He was burning from head to toe with exhaustion, but his mind was in a euphoric daze.
He registered that the white troublemaker was now back. Rooster lifted his head, golden brown eyes seeing the white dog and the pronounced limp he had now taken on. Had he jumped in the fray, once Rooster had turned their course? He thought maybe so, seeing the limp that had not been there moments before the whole of the prairie was barreling down on top of him. It was an injury to a dog indicative of a hoof and it was something the red and white cattledog was all-too familiar with. He felt a little grateful, regardless of the anger swelling up inside him at this brute's actions. He could have run away and made a clean break, but he had chosen not to and come back to help Rooster. That was stupid, but noble, and Rooster thought it made this guy's reputation a little better.
He tried to inhale a large breath so that he could begin cursing at this guy for starting this whole mess, but the stitches in his sides rippled in mild warning that they were not yet ready for such ferocity. Rooster winced, letting out a puff of air that had no words on it. It seemed the universe didn't want the cattledog to speak his mind and it seemed for the better he wasn't able to. The white dog was panting heavily, taking up residence beside him and speaking. His tone was almost the same, that typical insolence of a young child, but there was a new edge to it that Rooster respected deeply.
He was still calling Rooster Johnny Boy, which the mottled dog was beginning to loathe, but it seemed alright in this moment because it sounded like he wanted to make some sort of amends, going slightly against his own character to do so. He listened to the other speak and was even surprised into getting an introduction, a name for the white dog instead of idiot or troublemaker. Korvette.
Rooster labored himself up into a sitting position, his breath now steady. Had he heard this right? Had Korvette actually offered to hunt for them? Rooster wasn't suspicious. Mostly those who acted childishly and foolishly were kind deep down at heart, but wouldn't out-rightly admit to it. They had actions, though, that they did to offer how grateful they were. "Well," Rooster grunted. "I must say you are a foolish asshole. I had a whole speech I was gonna give you about this, but it my heart I just couldn't do it. Hell, I didn't even know you stuck around and tried to help. I half expected you to be long gone." His golden eyes flickered to his shoulder, the source of the limp and the pain Korvette was exuding. His voice was rough, but not cruel. He managed to keep his face neutral.
"But, you did. That's all that matters and that's worth admirin'. Korvette, it is good to finally get your name. Now, I know you are awful fond of it, but Johnny Boy, ain't my name. They call me Rooster and lunch would be great,"he rumbled with good nature, letting the roughness from earlier fade. It was hard to stay mad at anyone and even though Korvette had acted so stupidly, Rooster was capable of forgiving those who deserved it.
"Are you up to it, though? The herd looks like they weren't so kind to you. A clip like that is a tough one to take," he asked carefully, his eyes sliding up to meet those icy blue ones. He didn't want to offend him or make him feel inadequate, but right now the two of them were beaten and used like old cabin rugs.
He chuckled under a bated breath. Shucks, was ole Johnny Boy worried about little ole Korvette? He shook his plush head softly, a bruise from a heffalump was most likely the gentlest life had ever been with him. Hell, it was kiss even. His existence had been one poorly planned skedaddle from debacle to debacle. He’d been left for dead, starved, pitted against others, and today he had gotten kicked. It didn’t seem like much to fuss over, especially in front of this Rooster.
He stretched his lithe frame, bowing his front end until it brushed the dirt. Making a show of his somewhat youthful resilience and stubbornness. He would succumb to injury and eventual death when he was done spitting in its face. Such was the nature of an insolent and impudent mutt. He relished the burn in his shoulder, gritting his teeth against the now throbbing heartbeat it had assumed.
“You’re right on saving your breath there Joh...er Rooster. It’d be wasted and face it im sure there’s something prettier to waste your breath on than this handsome bastard. “ He tossed that icy glare over to Rooster, a small smile touching his black lips. Sarcasm fell in waves from him, the purest strain in his aura and being. The easiest way for him to cope.
Reaching his full height, Korvette gave himself a good shake. Flinging dirt clumps free from his pelt and grunting with the effort. “Alright Rooster, I’ll be back soon. Try not to..ya know..piss them damn cowclumps off before I get back.” He said, trotting away and allowing only a small limp to show. Korvette slipped a glance at the bison, they were picking their way out of the pond. ”Wouldn’t want to save your ass again.” He threw his words over his shoulder, letting a guttural laugh escape his maw. It was a sound that could be likened to the pure joys of a pups excitement. Full and hearty, like a joke had just been made and he was the only one to understand it.
He let his head swing low near his chest. His black nose twitched incessantly, inhaling deeply the rich scents of the prairie. The intense odor of bison rage and uncertainty permeated the air in heavy rifts. But underneath the scent of a gazelle was present. Korvette stretched out into slow lope, wincing with every step.
It wasn't long until the sorry sound of a wounded animal bleating reached his audits. Saliva instantly filled his jaws, pooling at the corners of his lips. His lope was well met shortly with the plaintive sight of a battered and bruised gazelle. It struggled pointlessly against shattered legs. Most likely the unfortunate victim of the stampede. Korvette shook his head in respect, misery did love company.
He approached, eyeing his surroundings for other predators. The gazelles herd stood off in the distance, useless. However, unwilling to abandon their herdmate completely, offering what little comfort they could. The broken gazelle, was a young one. Most likely still under a year, with slower and less keen senses than her older herd buddies.
Korvette approached and flattened his ears against her bleating. Like a bullet his jaws snapped around her throat. Crushing her windpipe as soundly as he could. The predator in him relished the crimson that flowed all to easily between his fangs. The gazelle struggled slightly before succumbing to her wounds and falling limp. Korvette left his jaws clamped a minute more, effectively silencing her forever.
He said a blessing for her sacrifice, thanking his gods for their bounty.
----- Korvette are his full and felt the soft call of slumber. He shook away his aches and pains and yawned against his ire. Gathering a leg and thigh in his mouth he set out to find his friend again. His pace slightly slower than before as the ache of his earlier wound had set in.
It wasn't like before the white bullet made his return. Kor dropped the offering at Roosters feet before laying down and resting his head on his soiled toes. ”There ya go Rooster.” his voice was tired but still full of that mischievous thrum. He looked out towards the setting sun. Despite his ignorant tendencies, he held a genuine like for the southern dog.
”What say you Rooster, two old dogs suffering the night together?” Kors ears twitched at the braying of the bison. Annoying heffalumps weren't they. ”Besides, what's a dog like you doing all the way out here in hells garden? It was a genuine question. He tossed a curious side gaze and let out a huge sigh. Today had been eventful
------- WOOOOOT FOR REPLIES! FEEL FREE TO GOD MOD.! and good old Rooster and Kor ripple
"So if you see me walkin’ all alone, Don’t look back, I’m just on my way back home."
Rooster felt some dislike for Korvette, watching with a neutral expression as the white dog made a big deal about how minor his injury was. He was arrogant, even when the cards were stacked heavily against him. Rooster saw the potential in him, but it was smeared heavily with machismo. But he couldn't stay mad at the guy, however, even if Rooster thought he was a fool. Because he had returned and tried to help, and no matter the mask some chose to wear in front of an audience, there was always an honest face lurking somewhere beneath.
The red and white dog didn't need Korvette to get him anything, but the gesture was kind. Rooster shrugged his shoulders in response to the languid stretch Korvette provided, his eyes blinking gratefully. "Well, if you got the say," he rumbled amiably in agreement to Korvette's display of vigor, even though contempt from earlier was rolling back slowly. Rooster felt his business with this guy was almost through, but he'd let him play as a good host. It would be rude to refuse the offer of someone hunting for you, no matter how insufferable they seemed. Rooster would be glad to see the hind end of him when the time came and was confident he good behave a little while longer.
Those icy eyes were flashing back to Rooster and the white devil gave himself a shake, relieving his coat of debris and saying his fair well to Rooster, exuding that arrogant confidence and parting with Rooster, leaving the mottled dog with words of caution while he went to find something to eat. Rooster shook his head,"Naw, won't be fussing with them in your absence. They gave me a run for my money, they did. I think I'll just sit a spell here and wait on you." He couldn't help but grin, something that looked friendly, but in reality Rooster was thinking of Korvette's hypocrisy. Perhaps he was being funny, but Rooster remembered giving him that exact same advice before the whole prairie went on a stampede.
At least he appears to be a dog of his word, the thought almost renewed a tentative liking for Korvette, but the brute had tossed words over his shoulder to sour Rooster once more. Once the white creature was gone, Rooster rolled his eyes and shook his head, muttering curse words under his breath. His golden eyes passed a cursory glance over the herd, watching as the newly pacified bison came ashore. They bleated to each other, calling roll and making sure everyone was accounted for.
Save me again, my ass. Rooster growled softly in his new solitude. He wouldn't belabor the idea with Korvette, though. The white dog was sure of himself and saw no wrong in himself. It was a younger dog's folly, that attitude. Rooster was not one to insert himself into the life actions of another, so despite the wrong way Korvette rubbed him, Rooster would hold his tongue. He didn't like passing judgement early, if when faced with a guy like Korvette. He had his moments, though they were brief and in passing.
The mottled dog had curled up in the long grass, his brushy tail laid across the black skin of his nose. He wasn't asleep, but his eyes were half-lidded. He was waiting for Korvette's return and was surprised to hear his stomach snarl savage. It took a lot of calories to run with a herd and when he saw the white dog coming back with a shredded gazelle carcass, he was very thankful and feeling pretty good.
The white dog had a leg and thigh clenched in his jaws and he dropped them before Rooster, looking sleepy and proud, like a male lion at the end of the evening. It made Rooster want to chuckle, but he was too hungry to delve into his feelings right now. "Thank you, Korvette. A fine catch after a day of cattle rustling," he managed a real smile for the dog before tearing his way into the meat, his teeth pulling muscle from bone and working it into his mouth. He was pleased to find how delicious this meal was and he didn't even realize the sun was going down until Korvette mentioned it, much more pleasant now that he was drunk with calories.
He lifted his head after a few mouthfuls had been swallowed, his own eyes seeing the dropping sun. "You're right, look at the time. No objections my way, anyway. You aren't half-bad in a scrap, so I'd trust you to keep an eye out for us," Rooster offered him a sly grin, one that encouraged friendship but also showed that Korvette wasn't the only one who could play with his words. He trusted the white dog alright, he was immature but seemed capable of taking care of himself, and Rooster had decided that he was feeling more relaxed after a meal himself.
He was surprised when Korvette asked him a question, a topic that didn't center itself around Korvette at all. Rooster was busy finishing up with the gazelle and didn't miss the white dog's yawn. It had been an eventful day and Korvette had given Rooster a decent meal. It was all the encouragement Rooster needed to talk.
"Well, my master died. I used to work on a ranch until he passed on. I suppose I'm out here because it reminds me an awful lot like home. We spend our whole lives trying to go back home and we don't even realize it. Even if don't want to stay at home anymore," he was rumbling now, disappearing in his own reminiscing. He took a few more mouthfuls of gazelle, chewing thoughtfully. "I guess I also came out here to try and move on. My old life is done. My new one has begun, but I can't seem to shake my old haunts just yet. What about you?" He asked in return, appreciating the way Korvette was listening, asking about him and caring to get to know him.
You're alright, the red and white brute thought as he chewed.
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