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 Posted: Mon Mar 19, 2012 11:16 pm
((HM, say... right after his brother's death, when he suddenly becomes moody and they have to try and deal with that? Figured it'd be interesting to start in somewhere dramatic and work back and forward from there))
It hurt. Everything hurt, both physically and mentally. His body had only just begun to heal from its brutal encounter with the pack of strays, and his mind refused to even begin to comprehend, or even come to terms, with the sudden shift that had claimed his world. Because in Lazaros' mind, it simply wasn't possible, and nothing in the world could convince him otherwise.
An involuntary groan left the burly red husky as he shifted before the cracking fire to find a more comfortable spot on the worn and colorless rug. His fur on one side was thoroughly warmed, and yet, there was a pick in his heart that had not began to thaw - and would not. He refused to let it, refused to simply forget and pretend that his very perception of the world had not been irrevocably shattered.
All he had learned in the past few days was that the world really was a cruel and tasteless as the wild, old stories had claimed. There was no love out there, only merciless brutality, and somehow it seemed as if even that wasn't enough for them. They had to murder too, and there was nobody out there who cared enough to stop it. That was how much they cared about life.
After a while, he rose stiffly and hobbled over to the door. There was a kink in his leg that he didn't dare stretch out, for fear of irritating his newly healing injuries, and the more he lay still, the more his running heart rebelled. Every day made the thirst for a good run worse, but everything hurt. There would be no running today.
Outside, Devin had put up a short run connected to the door, a space large enough for Lazaros to walk out some stiffness, but small enough to stop him from going much further than walking. From there, he could watch the occasional child ride by on a bike, watch the cars slip by with engines thrumming, hear the dogs barking through the neighborhood, reminding him time and time again that his brother was dead.
And it hurt. Everything hurt, so he simply made his way to the end of the run and sat, leaning against the thick wire mesh and staring bleakly out toward the street, eyes blank and gaze aimless, just watching, staring at nothing in particular.
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Posted: Mon Mar 19, 2012 11:49 pm
After a days long session of going through the paces with those still learning the ropes of being a sledge dog, Noelin was sore and tired. She loved her job, there was no doubt, and loved the friends she made there, human and canine alike but sometimes there was nothing like an easy stroll.
And since she had heard about the brutal mauling, she took one every day to see Lazaros. Upon first hearing about it, she had feared the worst of him but even the news of his brother had hit her hard. And now that he was on the mend, she visited him as often as she could, but he wasnt the same as he once was, she could see it in his eyes now, hear it in his voice.
It made her sad, as she had deep feelings for him and doubted anything would change that. "Oh Laz.." She called out with a smile and she made her way over towards his run.
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Posted: Tue Mar 20, 2012 10:11 am
Every day she came, and Lazaros knew that she wondered when everything would go back to normal, when they could all start to move forward again. Lochan, gone, and the vet uncertain when - or even if - Lazaros would be up and running with the team again.
Probably, the vet had said. He would probably run again, but "probably" didn't win races and Devin couldn't stake the future of the rest of his team on "probably," so he had borrowed a wheel dog from a kindly neighbor to keep the rest of the dogs in shape. Then, perhaps, they would see about "probably."
And in the meantime, Lazaros had his run. Every day, he came out and sat in the same corner at the same time, as if waiting for Noelin to show up, but when she did and when she called out to him, he continued to sit stoically for a moment, as if he hadn't quite heard or noticed her, before jolting out of his reverie.
"Noel," he said, and managed a smile that before, would have stole over his face at the sight of her without so much as a thought. "You look tired." Though she always did, and he knew she always did in the afternoon. They all had jobs to do, after all.
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