Dog On A Rope

1 - A Chase To Begin

A flash of grey zipped through the blackened underbrush, leaving crackling twigs, leaves, and thorns scattered in his wake, barely visible. Behind him followed three dogs, making quick chase to the grey agouti wolf. One of the dogs trailed in the back, a huge, hefty beast with a thick white coat and missing ears. Ahead of him blazed two saluki-styled dogs, with lean, dark, graceful bodies built for speed and chase.

And chase they did, with elegance and swiftness and sleekness, like air, and light, and water, they sped through the shrubbery and thickets of the dried evening winter forest, the chilled air whipping across their shiningly smooth, fringed coats. Their fur itself seemed like wings, flowing behind them and helping them to glide beautifully across the forest floor and through the air in long, athletic leaps and bounds. Tongues lolled, they pursued with the passion and energy of proud workers and hunters.

The large dog trailed behind them with a thump, thump, thump, from his mighty paws on the cool forest floor; his coat was thick and heavy and pale, as was his body and head. He galloped with strength like a war horse, densely built like a draft horse, head low and chops dripping. We wore a collar lined with crude stone spikes, leather armour draped across his back and face. He was eager to find the wolf, and with jaws as large and as strong as his, the wolf barely stood a chance.

It had been more than a century since a wolf was seen in Anertha. The very word "wolf" had been forgotten other than playground insults. The wolf, the proud, powerful beast that died anyways at the jaws of dogs. The wolf was a symbol of unity among dogs, showing their exceptional power and prowess in their successful extinction of the grey timber wolf. The wolf was a menace, too large and too strong and too unified and too clever for the dog's tastes; as tensions rose, a war began, and the grey wolf was wiped out like prey.

Here, in this browned, cluttered forest, the wolf certainly looked a lot like prey, running for his life with his tail tucked between his legs and the whites of his eyes showing bold. His heart could leap from his chest with its thunderous, fearful pounding. He was only weak because he was missing the thing that made all grey wolves so formidable so long ago: a pack. He was a lone wolf, and likely the last of his kind.

Whenever a party from the nearest tribe, Veal Tribe, detected the unfamiliar stench of something primal and undomesticated, they knew something new and perhaps menacing had come to the forests and fields of  Veal Tribe. The Veal Tribe's Baron quickly determined it must, with shock, be a wolf. And now, a month later, that same wolf had been discovered and was on the run from a hunting party of the Veal Tribe.

Although large, the wolf was faster than any dog at almost 45 miles per hour. He was a blur in the forest, and his natural, dense coat was invisible against the autumnal scene. Yet, still giving chase were flashes of colourful dogs. They were relentless, and on direct orders from their leader to capture the last timber wolf. The dog's stamina did not usually outlast the wolf's.

It was, of course, the fast Salukis that caught up to the male wolf first. One caught up quicker than the other. The one that seemed to prance and gallop like a gazelle, with thin, tall legs, a prominent tuck, and a large chest; her neck was long and graceful, as was her tail and her gently fringed coat. Her snout was long like a smooth collie's. One could almost see every bone underneath her skin, obscured only by densely-built muscle that gleamed. The dying sun still reflected off her Black and Tan pointed coat, giving her a strong sheen. She was thin, strong, and large, and built for speed.

The other Saluki seemed to be right behind her, also a sleek, black one, with tall legs and a strong, powerful chest. They were nearly identical, but the second one was just a bit smaller, and without any tan points- he was solid black. The two made for a very quick, very strong pair of precise, energetic hunters. They were noble and elegant, but not delicate; instead they were strong and coarse. And a bit farther behind them gambled the huge Kangal, crackling twigs beneath his weight, who would defend, protect, and fight with strength, though perhaps not with honour or grace. He would fight dirty and ugly, and be glad to do so, as would most guardian dogs.