Welcome to Gaia! ::

This was certainly not as it was supposed to be. Such was the semblance of a thought fleeting through the young doberman's head as he nosed at the cold, blood stained cement under his massive paws.

Everything had started going downhill after the two-legs had sent him to that cage. He'd only been three times in his life, but when those mysterious suitcases had been pulled out of the closet, he'd known that the trip to the kennel was sure to follow. He'd figured it would be the standard few days before the two-legs returned from their enigmatic activities to pick him up again, but something had been different this time. A thick, sick smell had filled the air for three entire days, and the dog could have sworn that half his inmates had perished by the stink. But they were alive, or at least animated. He could hear them snarl and howl until the very moment they finally tore down the main gate in their efforts to get out. When the rest had departed Fang had wandered out of his cell into a nightmarish world where gray bodies roamed the streets and would give chase if he strayed too close in his scavenging.

He was hungry now, those scraps of bread crusts from the purple-haired human female had barely sated the beast that roared in his stomach. Even as he searched for food though, he would raise his boxy head every now and then to check for signs of those strange, deadly creatures. He had to be careful.

Suddenly, a blur of slow gray-green movement caught his eye. He flicked a pointed ear, a soft, whistling whine issuing from his throat as he gave the creature on the other end of the alley a closer look.

He'd seen that form before, he knew it all too well, and the strange eye-like spots running down its spine didn't fool him.

cat! catcatcat! getitgetitgetit!

His whole body strung taut like a bow and he took a few stocky steps forward, a low growl rumbling up in his chest.

This was one messed up cat, that was for sure.

Fang let out a thunderclap of barking, stalking another pace forward, but clearly reluctant to get too close to the hellish creature. His ears folded back in instinctive hatred, an inherent resent that had evolved over millions of years of interspecial rivalry. His eyes widened, his jowls beginning to froth as his lip curled back to expose an arsenal of ivory daggers. His impulse was to lunge, to clamp his teeth down on the body in front of him, but something held him back.

This creature had the same pungent smell as the bodies that would follow him up and down the streets, of the other dogs who had seemingly rotted alive in their humid cells at the kennel. It was a hot, sick smell. It vaguely reminded him of the times when one of the two-leg's young would catch fever and would breath haggard, sticky breaths of air into his pelt when he walked over to try and comfort them. Although this was much worse. This smelled like death boiled over -- it was.

The cat creature in front of him slashed its paw through the air like lightning, and Fang bounded a few steps forward, circling it, giving it a wide berth, but still directing his primitive anger out on it in heated barks.

Encouraged by the zombie-cat's flight, the doberman took chase, keeping up his barrage of angry barks. This was more like it was supposed to be. Not some show down in an alley, a full fledged chase-scene!

He followed the gray-green blur of an animal as fast as he could run, his paws churning heatedly against the pavement, creating smears in the trail of bloody pawprints left behind the undead animal. Buildings passed in a blur, and a few human zombies lost in the network of alleys perked up momentarily at the heat radiating off the dog's body, but Fang was blinded to his surroundings, brain focused only on the chase.

Up ahead, one building loomed largest of all. Saint Peter's Church was bathed in brands of twilight as the sky began to usher in its early phases of dusk. Fang didn't notice they were heading right for the building--and the armed soldiers--and probably wouldn't have noticed until it was too late if the cathedral's bells hadn't began to ring, signaling to all of living London that it was six o'clock.

The doberman's ears perked up before folding back in something like disappointment, realizing that there were people ahead. This was where he'd run into that purple-headed two-legs. Grumbling to himself in a series of quiet snorts and growls, he waited to see what the cat ahead of him would do.

Following only a few feet behind, Fang pounced just as the zombie cat was slowed by the movement of pressing itself under the fence. His paws hit the earth, his momentum propelling him into the fence, his large jaws snapping together where Schrodinger's form had rested not seconds before. Unknown to the beast, not getting the foul infectuous blood in his mouth was a blessing, but Fang was simply discouraged by his failure.

He barked again, with less passion now, knowing that the chase was over for the most part, and reared up on hind legs for a better look, bracing his heavy paws against the bands of chainlink.

How to get in?

After a moment, he let his large form fall back to all-fours, and began nosing along the borders of the fence, searching for a weak spot or a gate, or some opening through which he could slip into the cemetary.

A yowl drifted through the air, a reminder of the escaped prey, and Fang let out a growl that dissolved into a dejected whine.