The rhythm of Not-Prey’s hooves on the black-path is soothing and motivating. Pack is much louder now but that doesn’t seem wrong. I think we’ve travelled more Set than progressed North^. But we are finding fewer signs of bees and none at all of anything else. There are occasional floaters, but they are easily avoided. Pack glows with health in my nose. Progress on big black-paths is good even if it’s less direct. Smaller ones that guide more northerly are not stable enough for our roller-cache. We can do a few degrees^ on them but eventually it is exhausting and rattling and demoralising. As we travel the weather is kinder, almost familiar. Maybe we’ll find somewhere suitably wild for us to dig real dens. Not yet, we can’t get away from the huge sprawling ancient settlements that humans have left everywhere.
“Do we wanna try out the roller-cache on a direct-path? There’s one here that goes North. It might be a struggle getting every-dog up onto it.” Vicious sounds unconvinced.
“We might as well try it for a little bit. We can return to the black-path if it doesn’t suit Not Prey or Spotless or the roller-cache.” He peels off the black-path onto bumpy ground. I guide Pack to follow. I feel every jostle in my shoulders and chest through the roller-cache. He leaps the mound to the level section the direct-path runs on. Dogs scramble up behind him. Not-Prey starts browsing on growth immediately next to the mounf. I take a small run and heave into the strap. I’m then on the top. The intentional piles of stones here are still completely intact. I can drag the roller-cache with ease. “Let’s sniff how far we can take this direct-path. Straight North and unbending for obstacles like settlements.”
We start walking. Shouty gives Not-Prey some gentle persuasion in the form of seeming like she’d bark. Not-Prey trundles forward with nose only for the plant-provision ahead. At the edge of the mound, plants are breaking through. Not-Prey smells delighted with her choice. There’s a high-path up ahead. We walk in silence. It’s wonderfully warm with enough breeze. I won’t need to press my belly into the ground as soon as I swap the roller-cache to Pointy in a degree.
Now Vicious and I can bond-communicate consistently we mostly use it for Service pack chat. No matter how close we get, we barely communicate without Service. Some’s remaining vigilant for floaters, but even I, without ears, can hear their characteristic whine well before they arrive. It doesn’t require much concentration. Neither of us are good at pack-chat or being included. We pass beneath a high-path, there’s another up ahead. I wish we were more bond-pack for Late First Eyes Runt^. Some of the training she’s missed is unconditional Pack love. But she didn’t actually need to be taught it. Lucky for you. Lucky for her and me and Pack.
“You haven’t told me if you’ve ever whelped.” I attempt, maybe it’ll get easier.
“No, I haven’t. I think it’s irresponsible for dogs like us to whelp.”
“Dogs like us?”
“Hyenas pretending to be Pack.”
“Is that how you smell us?”
“Well, we did quite a lot of damage to Pack while we were still of-Pack.”
“But not intentionally.”
“Do you still let yourself believe that?” I prepare a response. Do I want to placate or silence? We hear it. Pack prepares for action except for Not-Prey who is still aimlessly munching enormous mouthfuls of grass and leaves. I think of the high-paths. That’s the quickest full aerial cover. Bouncy, Pointy, Late First Eyes Runt and I run as fast as we can ahead. Vicious runs low to the tree cover. Spotless, All-Spot and Shouty join him. That’s protocol (those who can run with me, seek overhead shelter immediately. Those who cannot, hide and join us as hidden as they can – well that’s the protocol for me and Vicious, the others know who to follow). The next high-path seems much wider than the previous one. All the better to hide. The roller-cache isn’t good at speed. But I don’t want to encourage a floater to investigate. We run, silent except the rattling, bouncing roller-cache, heads down and determined as we hear the floater approach. The scent of cool damp air. That’s not a wide high-path, it’s a huge tunnel. I can smell but not see an exit ahead. We enter. The rattling echoes. It’s dark enough I can only hear and smell Pack. I slow and turn for the wall of the tunnel. The tunnel is at least a packslength wide. When we reach it, we hunker down to wait for the rest of Pack. We’ll notice anything entering the tunnel, whether floater or Pack, before it got close.
( Seek Pack? )
( Yes, Late First Eyes Runt. Pack will seek us. We must wait. ) She sends confusion down the pack-bond. I’ve no idea how to explain it differently. It seems sufficiently simple. She is waiting so that’s good. We hear the floater approach. We are all still and silent. You’ve got every-dog cowering like prey in the dark. They pass over and continues on their voyage. I guess, if Not-Prey were visible, she didn’t seem a threat. Now we wait.
Late First Eyes Runt jolts up as she hears the distinctive crunching, trotting of Spotless. She is quivering against my flank but waiting for permission. We hear Not-Prey’s hooves clumping, muted on the grass. I’m stiff from crouching still attached to the roller-cache. I stretch my shoulders and back before turning back. There’s a slight bend in the tunnel, the only thing visible. We turn the bend, the rest of Pack are silhouetted against the dazzling sun. They’re at the tunnel entrance. Shouty sends out a cascade of barks. Not-Prey lurches forward into the shade of the tunnel. No doubt she’s disappointed at the lack of provision.
( It’s long, but comes out into air eventually. I’d prefer to travel obscured for a bit if a floater is about. We’ll make more progress than off-path back there. There’s enough growth on the far side to continue hidden. )
( No need to persuade me. It’s also directly North. Maybe Not-Prey will be some other Pack’s problem by the time we get out. ) He glances at Late First Eyes Runt and adds, ( Of course I don’t actually want that. ) We head into the dark tunnel exuding enough confidence Pack just comes with us.
My eyes burn. The last few cents^ of light creeping in did not prepare me for the dazzle. I squint at the sky, it’s just over a degree later. Pack’s more tired than I’d expect after a short day. Being terrified can do that. Just because they were whelped here, doesn’t mean there’s nothing in this world they find confusing or frightening. Well done, Pack Guider^. I got there. Maybe the next tunnel we have to hide in will be less frightening. I locate the expected old-growth patch, slightly Rise.
( I think we should stop for the day at the next viable option. ) Vicious sounds fed after helping me cajole the ever-pups and Not-Prey in the tunnel.
( Agreed. That forest patch to Rise? ) Free of the roller-cache (we managed to transfer to Pointy even in the dark) I want to stretch my legs. But I can do it when we provide. We might as well do now if we’re stopping early. Late First Eyes Runt is sniffing the air.
( Quick smell change. ) I sniff. Fuck it. I hadn’t noticed. I didn’t think any-dog could go into Heat with this level of stress. You’re letting yourself get too comfortable. Vicious hasn’t suggested he noticed yet. But he will.
( Thank you, Late First Eyes Runt. I’m going away on my own for a short time. You need to help Vicious get Pack safely North. You know how to serve. You are very clever. )
( I can serve. ) She’s such a Soil-dog. Unlike you. Well, my body thinks I’m the highest ranked here so I must be, at least a bit, dog.
( Vicious, Heat is coming. I’m surprised it can.I am going to go Set until it passes. I will find ye in a few days. Leave a scent mark if you think you need to, but I should be able to track you. )
( Um. OK. I guess we’ll continue North. I’ll try to not get Pack into trouble. )
( I’m sure you’ll cope if you do. ) Maybe it’s the suggestion of it but I begin to desire a mounting in tingling skin on the back of my legs. I turn Set and run as hard as I can.
I ran until the hunting-degree. In the 7 degrees I had, I covered more ground than we have since we left Shouty and Not-Prey’s place. I ran without responsibility, without Pack, without a direction. It was delicious. I wasn’t in First Eyes, so I stretched myself. I’m exhausted and wobbly. I’ve been at a trot for 70cents. The Set is becoming gloriously fresher and crisp. My breath is visible in whisps. This old path is through new growth except for exceptionally tall, bushy trees either side. I smell and hear no provision, but I don’t feel inclined to provide for myself. I just want to find a place to be alone and get through this.
I’ve never experienced natural Heat. Only intentionally trying to swell. And only with Tall. He’s probably still gagging the taste of my ear from his mouth. I think I’ll find somewhere comfortable and get some rest in. Maybe I’ll let myself run to get my energy out. Maybe Pack could’ve done with your hormonal insight. Oh yeah, you don’t ever have insight. I’ll be back with Pack soon enough to share any brilliant ideas I get from the hormonal insight.
The new growth forest is getting weird. Hundreds of small saplings the same age reaching for the sun, below them dense, dark bushes. They’ve rebelled against it, but I can tell a human with an obsession with corners planted these. This is a little-wild. But really quite a big-wild by human standards. I walk between the bushes. Outstretched branches brush against my legs, sending tingles through me despite my determination to not indulge. Why are you beating yourself up? That seems stupid. Alright then.
I break into more of a run. The leaves stroke and slap and whip my sides opening different kinds of enjoyment to all my alert nerve endings. I follow the intentional planting, and I enter a different little-wild with full of scented plants. They glisten in the warm but sparkling Set. I let my heightened scent skill guide me aimlessly from one pleasure to the next. I roll in some particularly lovely scents and create my own cassolette^ from the plants and my Heat. My ear nubs are itchy. I scratch them in a rough scrubby plant. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. Oh Soil! That’s so good. And now they smell delectable. That felt perfect. Well, in one way.
I smell stale, tepid water. Nose guide me. Urgh. Another creepy, frozen, stone-humans in the middle of a murky pool. It’s the perfect circle of a human-made structure. The water smells pungent but inviting. I jump in. I paddle in the shallow thick water. The weed in here is another interesting smell. I rub myself in that. Adding to my cassolette. Slick ooze reaches my skin and trickles over me. I get out. Back to the scent-little-wild. I love this one. Roll. And this. Roll. Oh and that one. Roll. Oh yeah that feels amazing. I didn’t even notice the stone-humans (is that what happens when they die?) here earlier. I get up to sniff them properly because I want to and no-dog can tell me not to. I dry myself against bushes on the way to the nearest. Yup, it’s scent-blank. It’s getting dark and they’re never distinct to my eyes. I wish I could learn more. I think I know how live humans stand. But there are so many contortions (the pain of Walking?).
Oh. That smooth hard thing in this drying bush is the stone-human. So smooth. I thought it would be rough. I throw my scent perimeter wide. I’m truly alone. I rub my face and neck all over the stone-human. Oh that bit sticking out should be great for rubbing my sore back. Oh World that is good. And behind my shoulder. Oh that protrusion will scratch my nubs. My body feels like mine. Not Pack’s. Not any-dog’s. Just mine.
I can do whatever I want with my body and my Heat. The low throb in my clit^, has never been this powerful. I can revel in Heat. Tall can’t disapprove. I mount the limb above the joint and bear down. Oh Soil. Maybe I will provide for myself.
There it is. A little-wild this big had to have a big human structure in it. I don’t run to it. I stroll the perimeter. I try a portal-cover. Nope. There’s another. Nope. This side-structure will probably open. Yup. Completely barren but dry and the ground is warm from the sun. I don’t groom the day from my coat. I lay out and completely relax.