Dutch
Male | 5 Years | Groenendael
Mentions: None atm.

All was silent on the park grounds, save for the scarce, lonely calls of different birds which would ring out from the trees every now and then. Here in the park, the feeling of abandonment did not hang as heavily in the air as it did in the city, a few overgrown weeds snaking onto the gravel pathways being the only indicator that the humans were no longer tending to it. On one side of the park, there was movement; the rustling of a bird’s feathers, its wings beating hurriedly as it took flight from its hiding spot in a bush. Moments later, the source of the disturbance - a black-pelted, wolfish figure - emerged from the undergrowth, deep brown eyes surveying the land in front of him. It was one of those rare morning hours when all of the creatures which roamed the night were already sleep, and those who chose to be awake during the day were still curled up in their dens, dreaming away.

The land had a sleepy, fey aura to it, and, indeed, as Dutch padded through the grass, he almost felt as if he were the sole creature awake at that moment. He came upon a small lake, stopping right by the water’s edge. He lowered his head, sending small ripples out into the clear pool as he lapped from it. When he raised his head again, he noted that there were a few more stray grey furs around the muzzle of his reflection. The last time he’d seen his owner, he remembered his hair had also begun to grey out.

His owner. The thought sent a sharp pang of longing through his chest, the memories he’d been suppressing flooding back to him all at once. The night before his owner left, Dutch had been curled up in bed beside the man. His muscles were tired, but it was the nice kind of tired; the sort you felt after a long day spent chasing around sheep in the summer heat. His owner was reading aloud to him, as he did most nights, and though he could never make out what humans were trying to say with their strange barks, the rumbling sensation it produced when Dutch rested his head upon the human’s chest was comforting. That night, with one ear against his owner’s chest so that he could feel his heartbeat, and the other one pricked up, listening to the man’s comforting, deep voice, Dutch had fallen asleep completely and utterly content. Little did he know that that would be the last evening he’d spend with his beloved master in a very long time.

He was still staring at his own reflection when he came back to his senses, but instead of seeing his own eyes in that reflection, Dutch felt suddenly as if he was looking into the kind, brown eyes of his owner. ’I’m doing this for you,’ he thought determinedly, ’Just you watch, I’ll find my way back to you.’ With that promise lingering in his mind, the dog pulled himself away from the lake, making his way over to a small, brick bridge. The bridge had no railing, as it was only there to provide a smooth walkway over a slight dip in the land. Nevertheless, it provided a good platform for Dutch to stand upon and address the dogs that would gather there in response to his invitation.

Though it was well into dawn, there were no other dogs there as of yet, and Dutch couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. Were this any other situation, he would have taken great satisfaction from the fact that almost all the Alphas in the city would find him important enough to band together against him, but now he worried that their warnings against meeting him were perhaps too convincing. ’They’ll come,’ he told himself, sitting down at the edge of the bridge. He positioned himself so that any dogs entering the park would see him clearly - an elegant black outline against the sun rising behind him. He had spread the message, now all he could do was wait.

Inca
Female | 3 Years | White German Shepherd
Mentions: Dutch & Blackbeard

Inca wandered along a path she knew well, carrying herself as she always did. Tall, proud, and without a smidgen of doubt to stall her stroll. She knew this area well, had visited here with her owners, had run along the gravel paths that now had weeds sprouting aimlessly along it. This is where she first lost her trust in humans, and where she had regained it. And, no matter how she looked at it, at the hope this stranger had brought, she still felt a kernel of resentment flourish in the depths of her dread-laden heart. The park felt wrong to her now. It felt like walking over a grave.

Yet, nothing showed on her face. She held tightly to her emotions, stuffed them into a wired crate and snarled at them to be silent. Not one emotion leaked through her confident mask, didn’t crack the marble casing. The amicable smile she always seemed to wear didn’t slip or falter. She tried to pay no mind to the unworldly ambiance that hung about the park, veiling it in like some fanciful masquerade. Restlessness pricked at her paws.

Her confident stride paused a moment, dark amber eyes catching the black form of a dog, the light of dawn casting light upon them. She watched as someone else moved forward to greet them, another veiled in black fur. Inca didn’t move for a bit, simply watching to see how either dog responded to each other. She didn’t really want to settle a fight this early, and not in a place so dreadful and full of restless memories. But, once she deemed the dogs civil, she sauntered forward in a sleek gait, ears perked and tail lifted slightly. She granted them an easy smile and a tilt of her head. “Good morning,” she chimed, sitting down at a respectful distance from either dog.

Captain
Female | 8 | Doberman
Mentions: Everyone

The cracked ground of the cities walkways slowly slipped away beneath overgrowth and dirt, a lack of upkeep after the humans abandoned it all. The long maw of the dog crossing over the threshold, twisted into restrained resentment. She didn’t like to think of the humans, not when life was so different now, but with the recent news of a facility possibly housing their lost owners, it was all anyone could talk about. That, along with the figure behind these mad claims. A black dog, who many of the cities Alphas warned of. She made her way towards the park anyway, not for the desperate cling to hope she knew why other dogs would go, but to save her naive brother who let that hope consume him.

It hadn’t taken long for the mad dogs words to reach her small corner of the city, and Bullet was all too eager to respond. Now, she was biting herself at her lack of responsibility, her failure at warning him properly. Their human wasn’t worth the effort, the emotions. The disappointment. This was it now, fighting for what you still had, not what you’d already lost. Still, he went, and now she was going to get him back, and give him a good beating.

The thickets broke away to a large clearing, with water and a bridge, a black figure siting atop it. She could clearly see the small gathering of dogs around him, already beginning to go on their fruitless journey. As her eyes swept carefully over the occupants of the park, burring the distaste she had for who she knew was the leader. She tried to keep hidden, until she failed to notice Bullets grey and brown pelt was nowhere to be seen. Confusion quickly consumed her, and she made her way closer to the others despite her wariness of them. Talking to them wasn't something she wanted to bother with, but they had to have seen him.

“Hey,” she barked, hoping to get any of their attentions. She kept a good distance, standing straight on her long legs, but kept her head low. Shielding her neck, and body language screaming guarded and cautious. “Has a young Doberman come yet?”

Erebe
Female | 3 Years | Pharaoh Hound Mix
Mentions: Dutch, Blackbeard, Inca, Captain

In the long silhouettes cast by dawn's light, a hound prowled the streets. Taking roundabout backstreets and ominous-looking alleyways, she traversed the broken lands with a practiced air — neck poised, slipping in-between shadows, flashes of a rich chestnut coat illuminated by flickering streetlights and the still-rising sun. Her paws made nary a sound upon the cracked concrete, gait free and flowing, fluidic gaze pitched forward and set.

The quarantine facility. Was it true? The Pharaoh Hound Mix cared very little for the prospect of finding a human to call her own, for she had no desire to be chained to such servitude, but she recognized this as a chance. Of course she did; it would be foolish not to. Most of the mongrels here craved her skull on a rusted pike, and who was she to neglect an offer of escape, after all? Even if the dog offering it was rumored deranged. (If that rumor was true, she could always abandon the trek and wait for the next opportunity, she supposed.)

Her easy, flowing gait was interrupted as the sight of a bridge peeked over the horizon. It appeared that she was late to the party. She paused, eyes narrowing, and switched her stride into something more predatory — shoulders rolling over her back, head low (but not bowed, never bowed), sinuous muscle rippling underneath a sleek pelt, tail stiff and swaying. If they were hostile, then, well, she had to put on a show, yes? She moved closer carefully, keeping her gaze watchful and intense, weight balanced on flat paws. As she approached, she noticed the general lack of raised hackles in the group, and relaxed, if only very slightly. "...Hey," she called, simply, and sat tall at the bridge's edge, eyes roaming from each canine to the next.

↞ { Alistair } ↠
Male • 5 Years Old • Borzoi
Mentions: Everyone

Overgrown claws clicked against cement as the Borzoi propelled himself forward, his willowy form little more than a tawny blur as paws abandoned concrete for grass. Drawing nearer to the meeting place, his gait slowed into a leisurely stroll that spoke nothing of the mad dash that brought him here, head held high and strides purposeful. A dark silhouette in the distance lured him closer, the canine perched atop a small bridge crafted from brick framed by sunlight.

A familiar white coat drew his stare to where Inca stood, confident and poised. Eyes narrowed, his posture stiffening. Alistair hadn't known she intended to come and her presence sent a sharp stab of disapproval rushing through him, but that anger fizzled out quickly enough. He had no right to be reproachful. Not when he was here for the same thing. It wasn't an easy decision or one he made lightly. Alistair promised his dogs he would lead them into a glorious future, and now he was abandoning them on the word of a stranger with no proof to offer regarding his claims. 'I'm just as mad as him, if not more.'

He hadn't made up his mind until that morning, stars still visible on an inky horizon. Alistair accepted he would never forgive himself if the rumors were true and he missed the opportunity to reunite with Emily. His life was very different now, he was an entirely different dog, but often his thoughts still lingered on her. He saw her in his dreams, sometimes even while he was awake, thoughts drifting to happier times. If there was a chance she still lived, that she might be waiting for him to find her...he couldn't turn his back on that.

Regardless, his beta's outraged countenance was burned into his memory. The betrayal in her eyes still stung, but Alistair knew they would be alright. He chose Kiya as his second for a reason. She was strong, wily, stern, yet not unkind. The pack would continue to thrive under her watchful gaze. His departure would do nothing to hinder them.

Pushing those he would be leaving behind from his mind, he padded forward until he halted beside Inca, regarding her with an emotionless expression before his coppery gaze passed over the other dogs in attendance; a stocky black-furred male whose height rivaled his own, a sleek hound with a glossy chestnut pelt, and a slender Doberman who's stance much resembled his own, authoritative and demanding respect. He recognized none of them, but his eyes remained critical all the same, gaze lifting to Dutch last of all, silent for the time being.

Dutch
Male | 5 Years | Groenendael
Mentions: Blackbeard, Captain, Alistair [Everyone]

A thrill of excitement coursed through Dutch when the first of the dogs came into view, the silhouette of an imposing, sturdily-built working dog moving in his direction. He wagged his tail a couple times, before catching himself and forcing his body to be still as the stranger approached him. He determined that the other male was on the older side. He was only slightly taller than himself, but undoubtedly had a lot more muscle, and for a brief moment a thought crossed his mind; if this other dog was here with hostile intentions it would create quite the problem for him. The Schnauzer's inquiry, however, would confirm that he was simply there to learn more about the quarantine facility, and Dutch responded to him with a nod.

"Yep, I'm the mad-hound! Here in the flesh." He dipped his head in a sort of mock-bow as he introduced himself, figuring that, if he was going to be called a nickname, he might as well get as much enjoyment out of it as he could. Being known city-wide as 'The Mad-Hound' did have a ring to it. He could already picture it: when he'd tell the tale of how he heroically led an entire group of dogs back to the quarantine facility to reunite them with their owners, he'd be able start off the story by saying, 'they called me insane, you know? But little did they know that-'

His day-dreaming was cut short by the arrival of someone new, this time a white-pelted female who was also rather confident and imposing in appearance. He didn't even have the time to greet the new arrival before yet another dog, a stern-faced Doberman, made their presence known. At this rate he'd have quite the group of bodyguards to help get him through the city. A twinkle of amusement appeared in his eyes at the thought, but Captain's question would see that amusement quickly replaced with confusion. "No, sorry. You're the first Doberman I've seen today." He momentarily considered what the importance was of this other dog she was seeking out, but decided he could ask her about it later on if he was curious enough. For now, he'd focus on the other dogs arriving.

A slender, battle-scarred female uttered a simple greeting, followed by a much more enthusiastic mutt who would ask, again, if he was the dog with the information on the quarantine facility (to her, he'd give a curt nod in confirmation), but it was the dog who remained silent that caught his attention the most. A poised, sighthound-type male adorned by a lavish collar was glancing around the gathering group, and, when he finally looked to Dutch, he'd hold his gaze, observing him with equal amounts of interest and amusement. One of the first things he did when arriving at the city was familiarise himself with the packs that inhabited it, and he recognised this male as one of the Alphas. He'd certainly be the only Alpha to take his invitation seriously; and, as far as Dutch was concerned, he was the only clever one.

"Well!" he finally barked, now addressing the entire group. "This isn't exactly the turnout I'd anticipated, but, considering certain people have been questioning my credibility..." He shot a pointed glance over at the city buildings, where all the Alphas would likely continue to laugh at his 'outlandish' claims, "it could be worse." He took a moment to observe the gathered dogs, thinking that perhaps it was for the best that they were only a small number. With less dogs, it would be easier to slip through pack territories unnoticed. Besides, many of them looked as if they were more than capable of holding their own in a fight. "All of you are probably wondering how I know the way to the quarantine facility, so I'll just get right into it."

"In the last couple months, I've had to do quite a bit of skipping from town to town, so I spend a lot of time on the roads. Usually the trips in-between towns are uneventful, but recently I noticed something strange: there are a bunch of new signs along all the highways. They're very distinct, brightly-coloured signs, plastered on top of the normal signs. Now, I'd go on car rides a lot when my owner was around, and I'd never seen signs like those before, so, naturally, I decided to follow them. I was walking for a long time, and I nearly gave up, y'know? But then guess what I saw?" He peered down at the group, pausing for dramatic effect.

"Humans!" he'd bark suddenly, emphasising the importance of this fact by jumping back up to his feet. "I saw one human first, and then, as I went on, I'd find more and more." The humans he'd found hadn't been very happy to see him. On the contrary, many of them avoided him, and they all looked weak and had a strange, sickly smell to them. But he wouldn't tell the others about that just yet. He needed them on their side, and he wouldn't achieve that by worrying them. "Usually they travel alone, sometimes in small groups, but all of them were headed in the same direction - following the signs." He was pacing as he spoke now, the excitement rising in his voice. "Wherever they're all going, they must be trying to get wherever our owners disappeared off to, and I'm willing to bet my tail that it's the quarantine facility."

Inca
Female | 3 Years | White German Shepherd
Mentions: Everyone

Inca turned to face the newcomers, and a soft jab of surprise set her nerves alight, but only for a moment. A familiar hound, with a recognizably scarred ass, had sauntered towards them, predatory, with eyes roving over those present. Inca lifted her chin, delicate and purposeful, and gave the Pharaoh Hound a coltish smirk. The action exposed her throat, a gesture bouncing between confidence and stupidity. Of course, being a female with utmost trust in her own abilities, it didn’t bother her much, and instead brought a flame closer to the fuse she’s known to possess.

But, of course, her come get me attitude only lasted so long. A familiar scent wafted towards her, and a sort of subordinate-owned panic caused a flare to rush through her veins. Gilded mahogany eyes flicked over to a form she knew well, one she had followed faithfully for the past months as a weapon at the borders. Alistair, in all his high class glory, with his lavish collar still glinting around his neck. She straightened, keeping her countenance free of surprise, granting him a different smile than the one she gave the tricky lass; lopsided and much more friendly, accompanied by two sways of the tail. ’Two surprises in one day! How promising.’

Quickly, she turned her attention back to this mad dog, ears perked and eyes focused solely on the graying herd dog. Her head had begun to tilt, gradually more and more so as the tale continued. At his reveal of there being humans, excitement blazed through her, and it took everything in her to remain seated and poised, content amongst strangers, and two familiar dogs. At the end of his grand speech, Inca gazed up at him with a calm grin and a chuckle that rumbled in her chest. “Well, let’s hope that you’re right, wouldn’t want you losing that tail.”

Taking a deep breath, eyes darting between each dog once more, the cogs in her head turning smoothly. “When do we get started?” She asked, eyes eventually finding Dutch’s form again.

Captain
Female | 8 | Doberman
Mentions: Everyone

The other dogs entering the park were ignored by Captain, and even the speech their supposed leader began spewing fell on deaf ears. Her only focus was on the lack of Bullet’s presence. She knew he left to go towards the facility, he made that need of his known time and time again, despite her displeasure with it all. So, why wasn’t he present here today. When she woke from that night’s troubled sleep, he had already been long gone. Nothing left but a faint scent leading in this direction.

Maybe, she did warn Bullet enough about this dog, and he’d risk traveling alone then alongside the “Mad Hound”. Wether that was better or worse, she would have to find out herself. It only made sense, the more eyes she had looking for the pup the better, and these dogs all had a similar goal. The facility. If anyone where to find him, it would be them. Her lack of interest, and even disgust at the idea of finding the humans she would keep hidden from these dogs. It was likely they’d be more willing to help her if she was to remain poised as someone they could rely on.

If they were to rely on anyone, she would be a good candidate anyway. She knew how to work in groups, and even lead them. Fight alongside them, and protect them. Long before everything went to hell, those were her jobs when she had purpose. She always took those jobs seriously. And now, more than ever when her last shred of family was at stake. Once she had more of a lead on Bullet, she’d bring it up to the others, but until then she kept quiet. Letting her eyes jump from dog to dog, hoping to just fall into the background noise of this group as they began heading out.

Dino
| Female | 4 Years Old | Mix-Breed | 
Mentions | Dutch -Everyone 

Dino eyed the other dogs around her realizing she that she hadn't seen them before, it made sense since she only hanged around small packs or none at all. Her tail slightly starting to wag, she lied down away from the others as possible to keep herself protected. They all looked like worthy opponents if there should be a fight and she wasn't risking it.

She eagerly listened to the "mad-hound" as he uttered his words her nerves tensing up with his every word, her floppy ears perked up "How far away is it?" she barked out of excitement without waiting for an answer she barked again her quickly getting up "And do you happen to have a plan?" her face was getting serious while her gaze locked on the black hound.

If his words were true Dino was willing to do anything, she wasn't sure of the others but she would try to work in groups if this meant going back to her owners. Her tail had stopped wagging she didn't even flinch waiting for or more accurately hoping that this mad dog had a plan.

Dutch
Male | 5 Years | Groenendael
Mentions: Inca, Blackbeard, Dino [Everyone]

Dutch drew himself up taller once the questions began to come in, revelling in the attention he was getting. Ah, how he'd missed putting on a good show after all that time spent alone. The response of the white-pelted female would see Dutch flashing his sharp, white teeth in a devilish grin. He paused to answer her, but the concern in the voice of the elder Schnauzer caught his attention first. The doubtful tone of his comment did cast a shadow on his confident speech, but Dutch wasn't exactly surprised... considering the reception his claims had gotten from the rest of the city, he had actually anticipated such a response. When he addressed the other male he forced himself to sit back down - to look composed again. "I assure you, I do not mean to falsely lead you on, despite what you may have heard," he spoke silkily, "I wouldn't have come to you with my theory if I wasn't completely confident in it."

Again, the excitable mutt spoke, and he gave a curt laugh in reply to her eagerness. "Unfortunately, our destination does seem to be quite far away. So we'll need to leave right away, to cover as much ground as possible before winter arrives." From what he'd seen, the road they were to follow cut through a large, mountainous nature reserve, and it was exactly that part of the trip which had convinced him that there was no way he could make it alone. "But first!" he barked, this time more loudly, to grab the attention of the group once more, "I believe introductions are in order." He turned his muzzle up proudly. "Though 'The Mad-Hound' does have a rather fitting dramatic flair, I'd much prefer it if you would all call me Dutch." He peered back down at the gathered dogs with a smile, "And what is everyone else here called?"

Erebe
Female | 3 Years | Pharaoh Hound Mix
Mentions: Everyone

Erebe turned her analytical gaze to the hounds already present. The leader, it seemed, was the graceful, dark-pelted male, regal in appearance and perched dignified at the bridge's center. Another onyx dog, this one larger in size and build, stood silently. There was a Doberman on the outskirts, guarded in posture, with undeniable muscle rippling underneath her ebony-rust pelt. And there was another, the white lass, that looked... remarkably familiar.

Oh, there it was. Hey.

The Pharaoh Hound paused, brow quirking, a fleeting mix between a smirk and a grin tugging at the edges of her maw like curls of smoke. This was the dog that had "saved" her from those ass-scratching brutes. (...Not that she needed saving in the first place, of course.) Still, she gave the wintry canine an easy nod, eyes gleaming, tail swaying. This would be fun.

Her attention was diverted, however, as the next dog drifted into view. A Borzoi... holy mother of fuck — was that an Alpha? ...Huh. Erebe was surprised, to say the least, though she offered nothing but a curt bob of her head in the elegant hound's direction. First, it was the pale, wolf-like female (who she really needed to learn the name of), and now the leader of one of the city's most reputable packs. This trip would... certainly be interesting.

An excitable mutt bounded into view, and at last, the willowy, onyx male spoke. She would let the others get their questions in, perking an ear at his answers, making no move to speak. At least she had that confirmation that he — Dutch — wasn't quite as deranged as previously believed, though the descriptions of the journey set a prickle of tension down her spine. She was damn well cold enough at it was, with her short fur and all, but mountains? Fuck.

Whatever. Sacrifices had to be made, she supposed, and she would rather not have to evade hounds out for her blood for the rest of her life, thank you very much.

She lifted her head at his final statement, skull tilting to the side, mouth curving, though she kept her visage intent. Her words were short and simple.

"I'm Erebe."

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(OOC: it's half-assed but im tired & i gotta flex that Gay Privilege™ lmao goodnihght bitches)