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Its of my magical Deer OC
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What is Left of Us | Open!November 1, 2021 07:22 PM


sock monkey

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Palia | Male | Beta | Kelpie Aussie cross | M: Kilo dogs

"Go."

Palia shot forward near the head of the group - the position he had been assigned, always, in his months, his years, his life of preparation and training. This was his job, and he was going to be damn good at it. That, and the culls near scared the shit out of him, but it wasn't as though he was going to let that interfere with his performance; fear drove an individual, yes?

Hvítur | Female | Beta | Tuveron cross | M: Palia, Kilo dogs

The herder launched into a long stride at Palia's tale as they dove into the tunnels. Her mind ran through a pattern, a map, again and again - and again. Her regiment had been given an hour or so to implant the long-dog's words into her mind (she was smart and she damn well knew it. If Palia could compete with her in that regard - and he could - she wouldn't admit it). Faroe and Fjord had debated the credibility of the source, but Beta took it as truth, and that was good enough for her.

Fjord | Female | Beta | Lapphund cross | M: Other herders, Kilo dogs

Left, then right. Almost, almost - it was darker here, the tunnels more tight and packed in, worn by smaller, lighter paws. Untrained paws. It seemed long-dog had lead them right, afterall. She could smell them now - their panic. Their ignorance.

Faroe | Male | Beta | Canaan, Pyrenean Sheepdog | M: Other herders, Kilo dogs

The small herder pressed on - they were so close, so close. And there.

There it was.

A flash of black and white at the entrance - one small, one large.

There.


Edited at November 1, 2021 07:22 PM by sock monkey
What is Left of Us | Open!November 2, 2021 05:26 PM


Dark Matter

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Scallop - Male - Beta - I forgot his breeds I'm SORYRY - M: Herders, Afton, and Arrow


"Go" was all Scallop needed to hear and he was off, following Palia, the unspoken leader in their regiment.
It'd been so long since he was allowed to fight. Scallop knew he was going to flush the traitors out, but the chance to bite and claw at a real opponent and be allowed to go all out- it exhilarated him. He could let loose. No more control.
His pace picked up when they entered the tunnel. In the city, his shorter legs weren't the greatest trait, but here in the tunnels, they were perfect, as he didn't need to crouch or worry about too much up and down motion, like the others in their team. This was his element. Maybe he'd find a way to get more tunnel jobs! the thought of being allowed to map out and explore the tunnels when the traitors were rotted out gave him a second burst of speed till he was nearly bumping straight into Palia.

The small long dog, the first dog with legs shorter than their body he'd seen aside from himself, had told them as much as she could of the tunnels. Scallop wasn't one for memorizing, as he worked better in the moment, figuring out the best possible answer in the action besides wasting hours contemplating and planning, but he remembered enough directions. Not that he needed to know, with Palia in front and Hvítur right behind him. Fjord and Faroe wouldn't let him get lost either.

They made another turn in the tunnels, and there, in the back, he saw a dog. Mainly black with white speckles- and by the dog's paws another small dog reminding him of a brown and white rat. Scallop's instincts seemed to switch on as he imagined these dogs as nothing more than animals, and it was his job to make sure they were flushed out. Nip the heels, bite the haunches, chase them out.

His head lowered, his eyes locked, and his ears went forward as he and his team neared the dogs. He couldn't help it. A deep aggressive bark escaped his jaws, and his lips pulled back, revealing his long sharp teeth.
What is Left of Us | Open!November 2, 2021 06:01 PM


Dark Matter

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Frosch | Male | Greyhound, Borzoi, Azawakh, Great Dane half-blood | Tango/Foxtrot | 88 | Mentions: Hoffen, Kampe, Pfeil, and everyone else


Frosch had no idea what was going on, and he was living for it. He'd never been around so many dogs- the colors, the furs! he just wanted to talk to everyone around him and ask them about their favorite part of training, or their favorite color- oh the stories he'd hear! He'd been holding back all his energy for days it felt like, he knew it'd only been a few hours at most, but he couldn't stand this silence. There were too many dogs. He needed to talk to them. What if he found another dog that liked flies? What if he found another dog who liked running?!


It was obvious Frosch could not control himself, and any dog within twenty feet of him could see him shivering, his legs little white sticks that appeared as though they were struggling to hold him up. That was very much not the case. They were shaking because it took all his strength not to just run off and zoom around the dogs. He couldn't keep it in anymore and let out an excited whimper, his tail wagging tentatively as his entire body continued to shiver.

He'd woken up this morning, absolutely confused with how different everything was. The entire routine had just been forgotten. He'd eaten and then it was time to leave, and it wasn't to go train or to the pens, no. It was out. To the City. With more dogs than Frosch had ever seen before in his life. He'd been so excited that moment that he'd let out the loudest whine he'd made in a long time. All the friends he could make!

He'd immediately started talking to the first new dog that he met, it was on the smaller side, though most were small compared to him. The dog only replied in huffs, so when Frosch got bored of them he went to the next one, a big one that reminded him of Ninety-Six with less fur- a lot less fur. He wished he knew Ninety-Six's real name. It was so sad to be called by a number... and to insist that the number was your name? That time he shivered in distaste.

"Do you know what's up today? I woke up today and everything was different. I wonder why? I mean I know something is different since we're all out here- I mean look at how many dogs there are! There's so many of us. I never thought that there were so many of us. And look at all the half bloods, they're so shiny! Are you a halfblood? You look like you could be a half blood. I'm a halfblood! Beta gave me new paws and fixed my spine so I can run faster, isn't that amazing?!" the big dog didn't even huff, only glared at him, before curtly replying, "Beta has given us a task. By the looks of you, you'll be a messenger with the other sighthounds."

The regret on the big dog's face was unmistakable when Frosch continued to speak, "Really!? Thats amazing! A task?! How do you know? Did the culls tell you? do you speak to the culls? I've never really been allowed to talk to culls. They always tell me to "shut up" or "be quiet", but where's the fun in being quiet?" he couldn't help it and jumped in the air, a big wide grin on his face, "this is going to be so fun! I've only done messenger thingies like this in training, never in actual real life!" He couldn't hold still and started bouncing with every step, his mind racing with all the messages he would bring back to beta... All the running he could do!

They stopped a few seconds later, and Frosch hurried to the front with the other foxtrot dogs, "hey! isn't this exciting?!" he struggled to keep his voice low, knowing the culls were right in front of him as another bout of excited shivering struck.
Before he could continue, Commander Thirty-Four, Hoffen, snapped for him to be quiet. Raid? The big dog hadn't said anything about a raid, only him being a messenger.

Frosch waited silently behind the culls, contemplating what Hoffen had said when the Chief started speaking to the herders beside them. He shivered again, his metal paws scraping the concrete ground. And then the Chief said "go".

It took all of Frosch's mental and physical power to stay where he was as the herders ran, because all his instincts told him he had to go. He had to go with them. He needed to run- oh what he would do to run. A loud high pitched whimper escaped his mouth as he struggled to hold still, till his composure broke.

"Commander, can I go with them?"
What is Left of Us | Open!November 7, 2021 01:45 PM


Shadow Masters

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Zadolt | Male | Australian/Beauceron mix | Formerly of Foxtrot | 28 | Mentions: Afton, Arrow, Herders, Kampe(mentioned), Ginger(mentioned)


Half-awake, Arrow's words took a moment to make sense to Zadolt. Her words seemed muffled to his ears, both from the fact that he was only half-awake and also because she stood on the other side of the room. He had chosen his spot solely for the fact that he was away from other dogs; sleeping near another dog(or trying to) was so very different from Beta, and it didn't help that he barely knew these dogs. He would have had almost no problems sleeping next to another Foxtrot or even a Bravo dog, because at least there he knew what to expect. Here? These dogs were unknown variables, and to become vulnerable around them might be how he died. He had to stay alert and ready.


It was a surprise, then, that it took so long for Arrow's words to register. For some reason, he had felt safe enough to doze near what would have been his enemies if he had stayed with Beta. When the words -those awful, condemning words- finally contained meaning, his eyes shot open, and his paws scrambled under him, lifting himself up until his head barely touched the ceiling. Aadya escaped? When? How? Wasn't someone guarding her?


The dogs in the room with him(those awake enough to register what those words meant) seemed to hush in shock, before erupting into panic as the news settled into their brains. Afton spoke, his questions directed at no one and everyone, and another silence settled over them, though this one of the realization that someone had been watching her, that either someone was hurt or there was a mole among their ranks. There came another round of panicked words, drowning each other out in the attempts to speak. Afton spoke to one of them and they left, no doubt to get Ginger.


Afton lowered his head towards Arrow, saying something quietly, but it didn't carry over the panicked words of the more awake dogs. He left them behind, walking over with urgency and fear in his steps. If Aadya escaped, the tunnels were worse than compromised; they were a death trap.


"Arrow, you said Aadya escaped? Do you know if she already left the tunnels?"


Zadolt slipped back into the role of Beta soldier as easily as breathing; he could not afford to show his weariness fear here. So what, if he might have been freed from Beta's grasp, just to fall back into their hands again? So what, if even just thinking about Kampe left him afraid, of both what he almost did and what she was capable of? His weaknesses were neither needed nor welcome right now.


He opened his mouth again, going to ask another question, before a bark echoed down the tunnels. An aggressive snarl of hatred and eagerness; excitement, and a small amount of bloodlust. That was no Kilo dog. Kilo were not bloodthirsty; they were loyal and naive, determined and hopeful.


Afton and Arrow stood between him and whatever dog made the bark, blocking his view. Now that he was on alert he could feel the way that the ground shook from multiple pawsteps; he had dismissed them as Kilo dogs earlier, spreading the news.


A snarl of his own threatened to come out in response, his lips pulling back as he quickly stepped over Arrow to stand next to Afton, hackles raised.

Beta had arrived.


(Hi. I've been… Very dead. I think real life doesn't like me.)


Edited at November 7, 2021 01:46 PM by Shadow Masters
What is Left of Us | Open!November 18, 2021 06:58 AM


sock monkey

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Palia | Male | Beta | Kelpie Aussie cross | M: Hvítur, Afton (ind.), Zadolt

Palia dove into the enterance, relieved that long-dog's directions had guided them well. It was time to work.

Hvítur was the largest one of the group, and naturally, she banked off to nip at the heels of the larger dogs. She managed to get the majority of her section pushed towards the desired tunnel, struggling only with a large black and white dog; until one of the small Tango fighters managed to distract the dog long enough for him to be driven away. He was barking something about... an arrow? Skies knew. Didn't matter.

Palia hurtled over a smaller black and white figure with a pitched bark - one of the sweepers would get to her later. Heart thundering with what he reasoned to be excitment , Palia turned to face off with some sort of Beauceron - but a little shorter, less built for fighting, and moreso for herding, like him. The dog stood, snarling, and Palia returned the expression.

If he couldn't be intimidated, he could leave that to the fighters trailing behind, to get rid of him. Palia leapt away from sharp fangs, throwing is weight into the dog's shoulder, attempting to put the canine off-balance, so that the fighters may have an easier time disposing of him. He scurried away, not checking to see if his own lighter weight was enough to shake the dog.

As far as he figured, from what he heard, the resident cull would follow her dogs. She wasn't a problem. In the chaos, more and more dogs flooded out, clearly overwhelmed and overmatched. Kilo was not a regiment of fighting dogs - they were creatures of rebels, mutts built to serve their humans with tracking and scouting, not combat.

Not so many left, now. He, Faroe, and Fjord would take to the tunnels, forcing the kilo dogs along, seeing as they were amost all out - Hvítur and Scallop would be left to clean up the mess, while the small fighters took out those who had resisted.

What is Left of Us | Open!November 18, 2021 08:02 AM


Dark Matter

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Ginger | Female | Broken Cull | Kilo | 46 | Mentions: All


Ginger's wiring was going crazy again, just this time she wasn't glitching out and twitching, she was fighting for control.
She'd been woken up by Arrow telling everyone that the long dog was gone. She cursed herself, knowing she should have put more reliable dogs on guard, and was about to get up when a command rippled through her body. It wasn't something she thought, it was something that her body had to do. It'd been so long since she'd felt like this, so out of control, a ghost inside of a shell. A mind without function. Thoughts with no emotion.

Remove.

It was a simple command, and one that hurt her entire being. Beta gave up on trying to send her broken wiring commands a few weeks after she'd joined Kilo, knowing they'd lost her, yet somehow the connection was still there, and they finally caught her off guard and got a command through.

Ginger was standing before she knew what she was doing, her body was no longer her own, but the body of an empty-minded cull.

It took one step forward, then two, towards Arrow, Afton, and Zadolt, her lips pulled back and she felt her brown eyes, her beautiful brown eyes, turn red. It was at that point that Ginger got partial control back, and was simply fighting with all her mental strength to keep her body from moving, as her eyes switched between her natural brown and the red of a cull with orders.

Her ears picked up the sound of running paws, just before a rough, bloodthirsty bark echoed through the tunnels.
Beta.
Beta had finally found them.

The tunnel erupted into chaos when the herders entered. Ginger was hidden in the shadow of an alcove that lead to a different tunnel. She'd finally gotten control of her eyes and managed to take a step back when a thought sparked in her mind.
She could struggle to fight off beta while her dogs were slaughtered, or she could bend the command. Add her own part to it.

Remove the threat.

And Ginger stepped into the light, her eyes turning bright red as the modified command took control. Remove the threat. Simple. These dogs were nothing compared to a cull, who was not only trained, but programmed to kill.

She barked, "Kilo, run" none of her dogs were ready, especially all the small ones, and she wanted to make sure those stupidly brave ones weren't staying. None had seen her eyes like this. None had seen her like this, they would fear, and fear is exactly what she needed.

"Soldiers," Maze and Zadolt would understand this command, and so would her better-trained dogs, "Bottleneck!" Ginger had the voice of a cull now, no emotions, just tactics. Tunnels were small, and Beta could only attack in single file in them, so Ginger just needed her stronger dogs to stand in the entrances while the little ones escaped. They just needed to escape. Kilo could not end. Not today, not ever.

After her order, Ginger attacked the nearest Beta dog, a female Tuveron, the largest threat in her vicinity. She would be thinning out the hoard while her dogs bottlenecked the attackers.
What is Left of Us | Open!December 12, 2021 10:31 AM


sock monkey

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Palia | Male | Beta | Kelpie Aussie cross | M: Hvítur, Afton Kilo dogs, Ginger

Most of the dogs were out, and as far as Palia was concerned, that was enough. There was only a few remaining, a pair of black and white dogs, that shepherd cross, some sort of husky, the cull, and one or two others. Palia could care less about them - they'd make it out of the tunnels one way or another. And once the defected regiment was gone, the rebel humans would lose their only advantage.

The dogs started to close in, bottlenecking the remain herders - it was time to go. They'd follow their regiment, like the loyal creatures they were. Besides, Tango, close behind, would finish the job. Palia was not a fighter - he was a herder, and his was not his element. The dog leapt aside, barreling for the tunnels, barking a call for the others to follow. As he pivoted, his gaze caught a fleeing Hvítur - the largest of them - being flayed by that damned cull. Her head smashed against the ground, as metal fangs dug in - it was too late for her.

Palia ground his teeth, and shot down the tunnels. Left, right, forward, on, and on, and on. There - that cavernous space opened just ahead, some long forgotten tunnel. Fjord and Faroe dashed about, barking, keeping Kilo immobile. Palia could see the outline of the beta fighting regiments just ahead - this was it. His job was done.

Then there was the Chief's voice - "Attack." And Beta surged forward, descending on the kilo dogs, a sea of fangs and claws and death.

What is Left of Us | Open!December 17, 2021 09:56 PM


Mara Moonridge

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Taipan / Male / GSD x Golden Retriever / Mike - Foxtrot / I.D. 76 / Everyone

The golden shepherd stood as still as a statue, ears alert as the chief issued her orders. Standing more towards the back of the group as he was, he could see most, if not all of his regiment. Taipan honestly had not thought that anyone would question the chief. When he noticed it was the commander of his unit, he was not surprised. This cull seemed... different somehow. But then, the chief had been acting stranger, too. So maybe he was just imagining things. Maybe the leaders were just getting antsy. He could understand that; he wanted to end the chaos that was the rebels, too. His attention wavered slightly as number Eighty-eight caused a slight commotion.

A growl issued deep in his chest, so low it was only verily audible to those close to him, when the greyhound bounced, speaking to those around him. How dare he? Taipan thought, eyes narrowed. By force of will, he kept his position. Commander Thirty-four was already taking care of the situation. The golden shepherd's mouth flicked into a quick, hard smirk as the commander rebuked the fast dog. His ears still pointing towards the chief, he shot a quick glare towards number Eighty-eight, hoping he didn't try to cause any more trouble. Taipan did wonder about the stability of the tunnels, though. What if our numbers are too much for the tunnels?

He quickly quelled that thought. The chief wouldn't risk it if the tunnels were weak. If that was the case, wouldn't she wait them out and let the tunnels collapse on the rebels if or when they attacked again? He snapped back to focus as the first squadron, if he could call them that, ran off towards the tunnels. Taipan steeled himself as, one by one, the dogs ran into the tunnels at their leaders' command. This is what they had been waiting for; this is what they had been training for. They were ready.

Sabre / Female / Wolfdog (wolf-GSD-alaskan malamute) / Foxtrot / I.D: 65 / M: Everyone

Sabre stood in the midst of a sea of dogs, all of their eyes trained on the chief. Battle orders. Not for training. Orders to actually go out and kill dogs just because they opposed Beta. Wouldn't it be better to try and persuade them to our side instead of killing them? she wondered. That's a dangerous way to think, she berated herself. These dogs, these rebels, tried to attack us. This is us defending ourselves. This is us teaching them a lesson. Despite these thoughts, she wasn't entirely convinced that Beta was in the right. When Commander Thirty-four spoke up, voicing his concerns, she agreed with his sentiments. What about these tunnels that they knew so little of?

No matter what number Sixty-three said, she was small and there was only one of her. What happens when we march forth? What if it's too much stress for the walls? What happens if the rebels are organized enough to have guards in there? The skirmish would certainly shake the walls. What if the ceiling isn't sturdy? She shook herself, hoping that it looked like she was preparing for battle and not ridding herself of doubts. They wouldn't be doing this unless the chief was assured that it was safe, right? Sabre tried to reassure herself. Their guards can't be very competent if they couldn't catch number Sixty-three. Her breath caught sharply in her chest as a thought rose unbidden to the forefront of her mind. Unless it's a trap. A chill shot down her spine, the hair slightly standing on end.

What if, even while they prepared to fight, the rebels were already strategizing how to stop them? How to block them in the tunnels? How to bury them alive? Sabre's eyes dilated with fear. She couldn't say anything; it would be speaking out of turn. And she couldn't move from her place; she would surely be reprimanded by one of the cull, and then they really wouldn't listen to her. She stared at Commander Thirty-four, knowing her chances would be best if she could speak to him. But it was a long shot that he would look her way or even see her staring at him. There were too many dogs. As the first groups dashed off into the tunnels, Sabre's heart thudded with dread.

Kordelas (Kor) / Male / Doberman Shepherd / Kilo / I.D: 71 / M: Zadolt, Arrow, Aadya, Ginger, Beta dogs

"Help! The prisoner's escaped! Afton! Ginger?" Kordelas grunted, shifting to another position. Then the words registered in his half-asleep brain. His eyes jolted open and his head shot up. As he scrambled to his feet, his mind was a blur. That was Arrow, right? What was she talking about? Escaped? How? Wasn't she being guarded? He saw Zadolt at the other end of the cavern, and he hesitated before padding over, trying to appear calm. Did Zadolt even want him around? They hadn't really spoken much since.... Kor blinked. It wouldn't do to dwell on the past right now.

He sped up, dashing towards Zadolt, Afton, and Arrow as a vicious bark erupted from in front of them. To his horror, he saw Arrow at the very front. Then Zadolt leapt in front of her. Whether he was being protective because he cared or because he had slipped back into whatever horror of a training he'd received while with Beta, Kor didn't know. He was grateful, though. It sounded like Arrow wouldn't have had a chance.

He could hear many thudding paws, and his heart gave a jump of fear. The little dog. She must have made it back already. Beta had moved swiftly. Kor's eyes narrowed. He couldn't let his friends get hurt. He couldn't. Not this time. The doberman sheherd skidded to a stop, growling, his hackles and the fur along his back raised. They had trained. But would it be enough against the Beta dogs? He didn't have time to contemplate that thought as more Beta dogs poured through the tunnels and a voice from behind boomed out "bottleneck!" The shout sounded familiar, sounded like it should have been Ginger. As he snapped at the dogs, he caught a glance of her. Her eyes. They were a bright, bloodthirsty red. It gave him a jolt of fear, especially when his leader mercilessly ripped one of the attackers apart.

He shook himself, glad Ginger was on Kilo's side. Remembering the order to bottle neck, he gently shoved Arrow away from the opening, his eyes pleading with her to run as he followed the others' lead. "I can't protect you in a battle... and I can't afford to lose anyone else if I don't have to," he whispered, hoping she heard him. Kor quickly figured out what "bottleneck" meant as the opening of the tunnel narrowed considerably. More paws thudded towards them, and he bared his teeth, steeling himself for the bloodshed about to follow.

(hey, guys! I apologize for the necessity of being dead so long and for the shorter posts. Being ressurrected from life is hard to recouperate from sometimes ^^')


Edited at December 17, 2021 10:08 PM by Onyx's Haven
What is Left of Us | Open!December 20, 2021 02:14 AM


Grimm

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Commander Hoffen of Foxtrot | #34 | Male | Alleged Schnauzer/Wolf cross | M: Kämpe, Aadya, Arrow, Sabre.

Have no fear. Take no prisoners. Remove the threat.

The words buzzed inside his brain fervently, maddeningly. Hoffen had known the answer to Kämpe's question before the words even left his mouth to ask, he simply wondered if he could get something else to cross the strange Cull's eyes. A hint of something very unlike what should have swum in the depths of a Cull's eyes. Something Hoffen knew was there, something he wondered if he could make contact with again. By all means, he should have been long dead, his body rotting in the streets of the empty city. By all means, the very commander he answered to should have let the fangs of the rebel dog close around his neck, spill his blood onto the pavement. She should have killed him if he managed to survive his encounter, not been the very one to whom Hoffen owed his life.

Or maybe, just maybe, he should have let the golden dog tear the metal plating from her skin and tear into her throat. Perhaps Hoffen should have helped him, perhaps it would have eased the suffering of many if she were dead. Yet, Hoffen couldn't do it. Even when her watchful blue eyes couldn't stare at him with detached disdain, it was as if her fangs were ever buried deep into Hoffen's chest, gnawing ever and ever closer to his heart.

Hoffen couldn't bring herself to hate Kämpe, no matter how much he wished he could.

Yet, as always, he dipped his head and fell in line behind her without another word. His normally imposing figure was stooped low, nearly crouching in the tunnels. His eyes were narrowed at the little dog, watchful. Something was wrong with her, and he couldn't quite place it. Yet, he followed her confident steps into the tunnel as it widened.

Clumps of dirt crumbled and landed on his muzzle, and he shook it off in one smooth motion. Suddenly, he felt eyes prickle across his pelt, and he whipped around to face the stocky, long-haired wolfblood of his regiment. Hoffen wasn't even sure why she was on this mission, her size was almost too great for the tunnels. Then again, so was his. What was her name again? Names had little importance at Beta, yet, he couldn't help but feel guilty for forgetting the names of his dogs. "Out with it, soldier." His tone was even, detached in a way even he wasn't expecting when he finally spoke again.

Yet, he didn't wait for her reply before whipping back around at the sound of an even voice calling out from ahead of him: the long-dog.

"Forward, their headquarters is just up ahead!" the one that had led them there called out. Her large ears were pinned against her skull, and Hoffen couldn't quite place the look in her eyes. Determination? Neatly masked fear? What was going on in her head?

Another, smaller, voice called out. This time, it was achingly familiar, but he couldn't place it. Yet, Hoffen knew that shrill voice couldn't be a dog of Beta. The rebels.

What she said was lost to him, and he shook more and more dirt out of his fur as he trudged forward. He needed to stay with his Commander, something in him needed to be able to keep an eye on her.

What is Left of Us | Open!December 27, 2021 02:55 PM


sock monkey

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Kämpe | Chief Cull | Kangal/Malinois | 24 | M: idk at this point

Kämpe knew, in some distant part of her mind, that this was an awful idea. She had prided herself on being an intelligent, pragmatic individual - but that rationality was nowhere to be seen now. They should have wiped out the dogs by flooding the tunnels, with gas, even with human guns, by the skies - these tunnels were uncharted, unsafe territory. She knew little to nothing of the Kilo force, nor the stability of the underground system.

She knew better. But Kämpe was desperate.

These last few weeks, she had been slipping. Perhaps this was Beta's form of a test run - these dog regiments were not traditionally used in group combat. They were trackers and hunters, enforcers and watchers, guards, but not established soldiers. Maybe that was it. But as paranoia brewed in her gut, the Cull could only understand this as a final chance. Her final chance.

Beta knew. They always knew. Kämpe, they had called her. Kämpe, fighter, soldier - but their little fighter was faltering. She couldn't brave a glance at Commander Thirty-Four, because she knew damn well that would be her final straw.

The herders were quick, and it didn't take long for the pounding of paws on hard-packed dirt to begin. Barks and cries and snarls grew nearer, then nearer still - and Kämpe moved forward wordlessly. It did not occur to her that the long-dog may not be a reliable source - Kämpe would have, weeks prior, examined the small soldier's knowledge, checked and checked again for any gaps in memories, any incongruities. But that Chief was gone. This dog was tunnel-visioned, panicked beneath an exterior of composure.

And there they were. She paused, large frame rigidly still. Nothing made sense. Her heart beat with an electric pulse, and her eyes flashed. Was it Beta in her mind? Were they here? Was her programming faltering? Everything felt wrong. But there they were, and now she could not falter anymore. She did not have a margin of error - this was some sort of redemption, a way by which she might prove her worth, her reliability as a Chief, her sanity. The dog waited, and she watched.

A perfect little fighter, Kämpe.

She could see the whites of their eyes. That felt right. Without another sound, without another command, the cull lunged forward, metallic fangs flashing, hooked claws outstretched. A machine. Desperate. Unyielding.

Relentless.


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