The older hybrid felt the need to explore his surrounding's a bit, as he had not jumped ship to head home quite yet, and wondered idely how long it would actually take Lisa to come back to Nome to search for him.

In his wanderings, however, he had seen and learned quite a good deal about the going's on around this little town, adn that the small city's innocence was something long passed. It seemed to be a breeding ground for fights, bullies, and mysteries. Something the old dog would have found exciting and worth every ear to the door when he was a young scruff, but now at nine years old, he was getting up there, and he wasnt about to have his ears ripped off to find a good bit of gossip for himself.

However, as he was walking back toward the Veterinarians, taking the scenic route as he was known to do, thanks to the strong wolf blood that ran in his malamute veins, the large earth coated dog swung his black head around as he heard the hiss of a cat, something break, and then angry voices turning into quiet, then loud again. As he drew nearer, he suddenly stopped and every gaurd hair on his aged body stood on end as the wolves had howled. He couldnt help a shudder at his wild cousins, and wondered why, idely, they were so full of sorrow. He knew of a human's death, and of injuries to others by what poeple were saying were wolves and to tell the truth he didnt want to beleive his ears. His Father was a wolf, and Maker rest his soul, always taught Kamakazie, then called by another name by the pack, that wolves never came near humanity. That wolves feared man. So why, if it were true, were these wolves suddenly turning man-killer?

For a moment he thought of rallying up the polce, he'd made friends with one of them and liked the older chap, though he thought it to long out of his way and upon catching the slight descussion of accusation among his cousins, and Conrad's obvious confusion, the wolf-dog trotted briskly over, and then into view of the who the speakers were.

There he was met by a weird sight. A bulldog, a cat between its paws, and two sled dogs, a male and a female. Kamakazie blinked before trotting over, tail straight out behind him, and spoke, his tone deep, aged, and smoothe.

"They do if their mad, little one."

He came into the side of the circle and stood, looking each individual up and down, this an automatic responce from the old sledder. He could tell emidiately by the tone of their bodies that the two huskies(I cant remember if they are huskies, 'mutes, or one of each) were sled dogs, and current ones. He had heard about a dog sled team and musher gone missing from the dogs in town muttering rumours left and right, and what bits he had heard upon entering their earshot, these were some of the sled dogs from that team. Deciding he wouldnt bring up that sore spot, he instead looked to all of them.

"And if it were wolves who attacked and possibly killed these men, what then, would dogs do?" Kamakazie was ofcourse, not being the least bit cocky, but asking a simple, truthful question. What could a few dogs do against who knows how many wolves?

~Kamakazie
God, I so wanted to bring him into the thread, he just called to come back. :p I dont remember where he was, or if I even sent him back to Lisa yet. ^^;;; lol. But, hes back now, and hes in a thread again, whoo! *loves her wolfdog*

--- In TheAuroraBorealis@yahoogroups.com, "wolfwing04" <foxfly04@...> wrote:
>
> OOC: Jersey is on Conrad's head? xD I must've missed something, haha!
>
> IC: With having his silent appology accepted, Conrad's whiptail
> swayed back and forth, dragging against stone and mud without much
> care. He could read their bitter hatred for Jersey in smallest inches
> of their being, and started feeling self-concious about the cat
> sitting on his head. Standing up, the large bulldog shook his body to
> get Jersey off of him before sitting back down.
>
> Despite his size and appearance, Conrad was still a puppy at heart.
> Innocent, even though he'd seen things beyond his maturity level, and
> kind, despite the trials he'd faced. So when dogs reitterated their
> appreciation for his - and Jersey's - help (though Conrad was certain
> they were far less willing to accept anything Jersey did, good or
> not, as "help"), Conrad felt pleased to oblige. His tail wagged a big
> faster, then stopped completely when Spot's voice uttered some
> sinister tragedy. His ears perked when the distant song of their long
> lost ancestors danced through the wind.
> "A wolf?" he piped up, his voice quiet in surprise, "You saw it? I
> mean... the wolf?"
>
> Conrad felt his bottomless stomach do sommersaults. With Jersey
> having just talked about White Ember, Conrad had been excited to see
> the wolves. Now he didn't know what to do. He didn't know what was
> going on or why this was happening. And he was afraid that if he
> helped Spot and Fuzzy, that bad things would come to White Ember and
> the other wolves he knew.
>
> "Why would they do that? Wolves don't just go after people!" he said,
> almost angrily. He frowned and focused his amber eyes at something
> intangible and distant, trying to think of what would cause something
> like this to happen.
>
> >
> > BIC: Fuzzy, smeared with mud from head to tail from his tumble off
> of
> > the shack roof, and grumbling curses to himself, came padding back
> > around the corner and sat down by their new friend, the brown and
> > white coloured dog who seemed half at home and half at a loss in
> this
> > town. Spot joined him, eyeing him up carefully to make sure he
> hadn't
> > injured himself in the fall, but he was a young dog, and looked
> fine.
> > They both gave Jersey a muted but vengeful stare, eyes narrowing a
> > little, and were convinced she'd sprang out of some undiscovered
> crack
> > in the fabric between Nome and Hades. And so two more dogs had met
> > their match in this backwater settlement, unwilling amusement for
> the
> > cat who toyed with every inhabitant here.
> >
> > Neither of them wanted to take a snap at her while she was perched
> on
> > the head of a dog who liked like he could wring their necks with his
> > pinky, however, and it became clear that they knew each other.
> > Disgruntled and defeated, the soiled Malamute conceded. "We'd
> > appreciate the help," he made himself say, twitching a little, "Our
> > friend's name's Thor. Ginger minger, bit of a chauvinist, quite big,
> > and a jackass." Grimacing, Fuzzy started to clean his fur. Oh why
> > couldn't he have landed in some snow. Ah yes, that's right, spring
> time.
> >
> > Spot gave a small sigh, looking to Conrad and accepting his apology,
> > though really he had nothing to say sorry for, it was all that pesky
> > feline's doing. Oh she was evil. But they did need help finding
> > Thor,
> > and their musher. Now that Cobalt was dead... What would they do?
> She
> > could do this, it was too much for her, being lead dog. Though
> > admittedly her team consisted of only one very dirty Malamute right
> > now. Thor wouldn't challenge her for dominance, either, the
> scoundrel,
> > he'd let her lead and take responsibility for all the mistakes,
> while
> > undermining her and stripping her actual authority with his
> insolence.
> > A rogue, that one. Still, the task at hand, locating him and Tony,
> > that's what they had to do.
> >
> > "Our musher, too," she contributed calmly, staring up at the cat on
> > Conrad's head, not knowing how the guy could stand it, "The man who
> > shot at you, if you remember. He was attacked by a wolf, we have to
> > find him." As if haunting her words, the solitary howl of that
> primal
> > species drifted faintly through the town, followed by another,
> joining
> > it, and filled even to her domesticated ears with a raw suffering
> > calling out of the distant past. Two wolves out there, two black
> > wolves wherever they were, had caused her life to be turned upside
> > down, and now here she was wandering the streets of a strange town
> > with her naïve companion. Somehow, one day, she would see justice
> done
> > to them.
> >
> > -John
> >
>