PA 3.5: End of a Tail

Chapter XVIII Part II

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Sparky asked, cocking his brow.

Mitt frowned at being challenged. "If you have a better guess at what to do, why don't you figure something out then."

Sparky chuckled nervously, leaning back from the cat and raising his paws in surrender. "Well, I'm just not so sure he's as angry as you say he is. Sure, he's not exactly... sane, but he knows how to bide his time."

"You're right... but this strategy isn't working. People - especially me and my brother - have excellent reasons to want to get done with him quickly... I mean, it'll be difficult either way, but he's just too mobile for us to catch. The moment we respond to a report, he's already halfway across town."

Sparky still didn't look convinced. "I mean, okay, but what if he starts attacking other people? I think he knows we won't sit idly while he targets innocent dogs."

"I don't think that'll change by us being less aggressive. He..." Mitt paused again, appearing contemplative, "He told you that he didn't want to hurt people, and as stupid of me as it might be to say, I believe him."

Sparky didn't respond, pensively looking away from Mitt.

"If he wanted to start killing random dogs, it'd still be harder for him to do so if they're at home behind locked doors. You said it yourself that the patrols barely listen to you, and that half of them aren't even gathering at the places we told them to anymore." They gestured with a paw. "Honestly, I don't even think he wants to hurt the other dogs, he just... wants all of you guys."

"Mitt, I think you're giving him too much credit," Sparky said, crossing his arms. "Take it from me, he's not a charitable dog. If it weren't for that terrier, he would've killed us earlier- it's all he talks about."

Mitt sighed, stoic features finally shifting to be more irritated. "Or maybe it's just him not wanting to piss off the rest of the town, who knows," they hissed out. "I just think he doesn't have a motive. He hates you guys, of course, but he doesn't have a reason to kill anyone else- it's just not... 'fun' for him."

Sparky brought a paw to the bottom of his muzzle, scratching at it deep in thought for a brief moment. "How... How would you know that?"

Mitt just barely narrowed their eyes, raising them to look at Sparky with a defiant glare, almost like they were trying to appear as stoic as possible, and just flatly looking angry.

Sparky stopped scratching his muzzle, letting the paw dart down to his hips as he tried explaining himself. "I-I just mean, it sounds like you're making assumptions?" he facepawed, showing frustration at his words, "Oh Dog, I don't know how to put it..."

"So..." Rover began, speaking in a whisper towards Olive. "I wanted to say sorry, for earlier. I... got Brownie hurt by not shutting up, and... yeah," he muttered.

Olive was almost incredulous, nearly blushing at the genuine apology. Why was Rover apologizing to them? Olive had done nothing to stop Patches; they were just totally useless the whole time.

"I-It's okay... You tried helping her, it's not your fault this is happening..." Olive said in response, eyes shifting to the floor as they hid their embarrassing drawing of Sparky underneath a cushion.

"... Do you really think that?" he asked.

"Um..." Olive said, nervously bringing a paw up to their mouth and scratching at their jowls.

"I'm just asking because Sparky said you're really honest about what you think of people. He talks about you a lot, actually," Rover said, his frown beginning to fade and his eyes scanning the room with a bit more energy. "I'm just surprised you don't think it's my fault for that happening to her, it looked... painful."