Finley -> Rick's Dog

t h i r t e e n

I heard sounds of life, and talking. A lot of talking. There must be a decent amount of people here, or these humans are just very chatty. But yet still I don't think anyone noticed me.

It was like my mind was conscious, but my body wasn't. I felt helplessly trapped inside my own mind, and thought, as others went by their day, doing whatever the heck they wanted. It was like I was dreaming, except I knew I wasn't. But I had to be, right?

Days whizzed by, and I had learnt that I was safe with Andrea, and a woman called Michonne, who rescued us. When me and Andrea escaped the farm, we had ran through the forest, we were attacked by walkers, and Michonne had swung her sword at one of them. A rock had managed to cut my side, and the walker almost took a chunk out of me. Almost.

My head went bang against a different rock, and now I am in a deep paralyzed state, where my mental state is awake, but body isn't. Another words, I was in a coma.

Every day one of the two would come over to me, give me a little bit of water, and some food or whatever inside it.

I mean, it wasn't the best concoction to drink, or whatever you want to call it, but it got me through my days. Kept me alive and breathing.

This repeated for days on end, as days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. We never stayed in one place for very long, constantly on the move. Meant I had the joys of being dragged around. I couldn't even react when I was dragged into trees on accident, which drove me up the walls.

One day, I could hear different voices, and I heard the sound of a gun. It sound rough, and quite a bit like Daryl's. In fact, some could say it was identical. Due to the fact of not being able to see or smell, you could probably not imagine what it would be like, to being put in some sort of box, and chucked aro ik and as it moved. It almost sounded like a car.

The next thing I know, I was placed into some sort of metal something or ever. I could feel my fur pushing through the gaps in it, and I it almost felt like fencing. Then it hit me, I was in a cage.

As the hours went on, their murmurs became alot clearer, and I realised that they were helping me. Every half hour or so some of them would come over to me and check my vitals. Almost every day I would receive some nice pets on the head, a nice sweet comment, before letting my brain shut off.

When my brain switched itself back on, I felt different. Weird.

I felt my breathing hitch, and before I knew it, my eyes shot open, and I saw white, and could smell chemicals and clean all around me.

I looked at an IV that was in my... shaved leg. How dare they! Taking my fur away. Well I ain't having that kind of shit. I stood up, and let a pained whine emit from my throat, as pain rippled across my whole body. I ached. My heart ached, not because of some sort of illness, but it ached for Rick, for Carl, for Daryl.

I scratched at the latches keeping me in, and started to bark. I didn't like it in here, I didn't like it one bit.

A man in a lab coat came rushing in, and started checking me over, poking at me. I pawed at the door, whining. My throat felt dry and scratchy. It felt drier then the Nevada Desert.

The man moved the bolt, and took the needle from my paw, before leading me out. I limped, so that I wouldn't stand on the shaved leg of mine. He clipped my lead on, and led me outdo the- lab?

Man, words do not even come close in explaining my desire to be with Rick in this moment. I really hoped that it would be him that I'd see first, not some dude with an eye patch, looking down at me with a menacing glare.

I dropped my head and whimpered, if there was something that I knew right now, it was that I just wanted to curl up in Rick's arms, and sleep. I don't even know if he made it out.... If he's alive. I'd like to think that he is, Rick's a fighter, and I know that he won't give up.

I looked back up, as my lead was tugged by one-eyed dick over here. He is a first class asshole.

I whimper, as he slammed the door shut behind him. I sware that I flew into the sky. "what you looking at shithead." he snarled.

I decided it was about damn time to stand my ground, and let out a vicious snarl, threatening him, so that he knew, if he decided to get all up in my business, I'd kill him.

I lead down in the corner, further away from him. I watched him get into bed, turning off his lamp, allowing himself to sleep the problems of the day away.

Well good luck with that bud, been there, done that. In fact I did it for about 8 months. I'm kn knackered to sat the least.

I tried to fight sleep, hoping it would evade me, but I guess sleep was fed up with me, as I was knocked out like a light. The only thing u could do, was just hope that this guy wouldn't try to murder me in my peaceful sleep.

Okay- look, ik it's really short yeah, nktwhatyou want? It's fine, it's more of a filler chapter, and I'm slipping away from humanity. My typing keeps dying.

Stay safe <333

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