I won't be here (open)

The dark shepherd moved solemnly through the trees. He had no destination in mind. He allowed his legs to carry him aimlessly, wandering without direction. His heart was heavy and his stomach was empty. The once sheen, black coat was now ragged and tattered and his full figured form had been reduced to a skeletal appearance.

The past month had been hard on the young canine. First came the shaking and splitting of the earth beneath his paws, then came the loss of the world he had once known. His human, his one love and the one who loved him, had disappeared. In his search he had encountered a rag-tag group of misfits, also lost, alone, and confused in this new world order. He had followed them only briefly as they set to search the remains of the city until branching off to find his own path. In doing so he had managed to find the home he had once known in shambles. For days he waited for his human to return the same as she had always done before. It seemed, however, that she had gone to a place he could not find. The large mutt had refused to wander far from this shelter, its familiarity granted him a strange sense of comfort. He would, however, wander a wider and wider perimeter as the weeks wore on, searching for any edible scraps of food he could dig up. Only after more than a full moon cycle had passed did he begin to fully lose hope. She wasn't coming. He was well and truly alone. At this realization, he began to observe the lack of any humans. Surely they had all abandoned him.

As he sauntered onward a low sound granted him pause. A warning. A growl. He continued forward towards the voice that called out to him, revealing himself fully and willingly. At the mere sight of another living being, especially one of his own kind, his tail began to move in a slow wag. He wasn't alone. He didn't have to be alone anymore!

His ears perked at the thought and he lifted his head from its hanging, dejected position. "I'm Thomas," he said in a gruff voice that had gone unused for nearly a month's time. The shepherd had never been granted a proper canna name. He took a few friendly steps closer to the other canine, his tail continuing to sway in a slow, wide arch. He cleared his throat before continuing. His orange eyes shined bright with elation. "It's great to finally see another face. Who are you?"

Thomas's genuine and friendly demeanor did not sway as he took in the sight of the shepherd standing across from him. The wild dogs tended to be more timid with a touch of additional aggression from his own experience. They lived a much more feral and dangerous lifestyle than the young male was accustomed to, it was fairly easy to understand their reactions to him.

The darker furred dog's makeshift companion gave his name, though he seemed to struggle with it a bit. 'Rapha'yona,' he considered silently to himself. 'That's a silly name.' His mind wandered briefly to his last canine interaction. Many of those dogs had had similar sounding names of what seemed to almost be nonsense to him. But, then again, all names were nonsense. What was the difference between this dog referring to himself as "Rapha'yona" and a human walking by the street yelling at "Shiloh" to stop sniffing at him as they passed? His interactions with others of his kind had been so limited in his less than two years on earth that he hardly knew or understood most canna ways.

Thomas's warm heartedness was addictive and it showed as the other male began to relax, letting his own guard down even if only slightly. The black mutt had failed to put his guard up at all. By all accounts in his mind he had no reason to. He lowered himself into a sitting position, his tail brushing dead leaves and dirt back and forth slowly on the ground, leaving the ground directly behind him bare.

"Are you alone?"

"Yes," he answered honestly and without hesitation, nearly cutting into Rapha'yona's dialogue.

"I mean, because you look hungry--nothing nefarious."

"Oh, I am," he admitted a little sheepishly. "I haven't even seen another living soul in..." He paused briefly, trying to count the days. "Well, at least one whole moon cycle. No canna or..." His voice began to trail as he added "...humans." He was feeling a little embarrassed about his whole situation. Not only did it leave a pit in his stomach and an ache in his heart in his belief that he had failed his human somehow by losing her, but other canines he had encountered after the earthquake had seemed less bothered on the loss of the species. His tail stiffened at the thought and ceased its soft wagging. His eyes dropped to his paws in front of him. His posture slouched.

Fighting back against himself, he shook the intrusive ideas from his mind and lifted his gaze back up to meet Rapha'yona's eye. He was no longer alone, and that was something to be celebrated. In fact, the dogs he had met before had not been alone, either. They had what seemed to be some strong sense of comradery that he vied for now. Maybe this shepherd would know something about them. Maybe he was even with them!

"I've actually been looking for someone -er- thing. A clan of dogs somewhere around these parts. Have you seen them?" he asked, a twinge of hope piercing his heart at the idea.

In reality, he had no clue as to where those dogs would be and he had not actually been actively searching for anyone or anything in particular. However, the idea, now that it had come to him, had seemed too appealing to pass up.

Black ears perked at the canine's response and then folded in a small degree of despair. Just another someone confirming that the humans were gone. Thomas had seen it with his very own bright eyes, yet he refused to believe it. "I'm sure your human didn't want to leave you." The dark furred shepherd's tail flipped in the dirt behind him. She didn't. She would never. He knew this.

His full attention turned towards his companion as he spoke. "You're on the border of the Ah'mir clan currently." Ah'mir? Was that right? It didn't sound right. But, then again, few words seemed to. No matter how hard he pressed his brain he could not think of the name the other canna had gone by. Yes. It must have been the Ah'mir. Thomas jumped to his feet in excitement, his mouth hanging open in a wide smile and his tail wagging quickly behind him. Then, his excitement ceased, if only momentarily.

"I won't stop you from continuing your venture into theirs lands if you choose. However, I will warn you that as a former member... You will need to keep your guard up."

The mutt's head tilted slightly in confusion. Former member? Guard up? The dogs had not seemed all that aggressive during his prior interactions. Perhaps much had changed in the time he had spent in his small, old homestead. He shook his head, shaking off the warning and returning his features to that of a happy, seemingly carefree dog.

"The Ah'mir, huh?" He glanced towards the presumed border, his expression turning quizzical. "Why don't you come with me, Rapha'yona? I've met these dogs before. Surely they can't be that bad?" His tone was hopeful and his demeanor friendly. He was positive this was all just some big misunderstanding. "At least.... they didn't seem that bad..." The waving flag of a tail drooped only slightly at the thought.

He was certain that if he could find a home among the other canna he would be ready for when the humans returned. As it currently stood, without help he was proving unable to survive on his own, let alone thrive. No, surely those dogs he had met over a month ago would take him in. They had been so keen on others joining their clan before. But still, it did not make a lick of sense to him why Rapha'yona would want to leave. The thought never even crossed Thomas's mind that he may have found the wrong group.

Made by Time Lapse of Adoxgraphy.

The swaying black tail paused momentarily at the female's words. He had been too caught up in his own embarrassment to notice her correction regarding the two belonging to the clan so he had made no comment on Rapha'yona's prior statement. What had caused him to pause was the invitation to join. He had seemed so confident in his decision before but now he was unsure. The question tickled at the back of his mind, teasing him with an answer but none seemed to come to his lips.

The skin at the base of the shepherd's shoulder twitched at a light touch. Turning his attention back to the single-eyed canine his tail began its slow, awkward wag once again. His tongue lolled from the side of his mouth as he spoke.

"Oh... yes! That is a great idea," he stated in response.

His features drooped only momentarily at the reminder that the older male had no intention of joining the two, opting to continue on his walk. There was some small form of loyalty that had sparked within the dark mutt. It was that same feeling he had felt towards the canna, Navira, whom he had encountered after the world fell apart. Being the first friendly face to encounter after disaster brought with it a strange sense of friendship and comradery. The same held true now, after a month of solidarity and loneliness. Rapha'yona had been the first of any living soul he had encountered, with an added bonus of not outright killing, injuring, or even attacking the smaller canine. His was a friendly face - through Thomas's eyes - in a world currently filled with bleak tragedy.

He turned his attention to the shadow coated company. A meek smile crossed his muzzle as he approached nearer to her, ready to follow her lead. The air surrounding the trio had a heavy feeling of dominance laced about it now. No doubt this was coming from the more serious canna, Hassi'onakah. Thomas couldn't help but instinctively respond to this sensation and carried himself as such. His head was kept low, though not dangling, and he never fully held her gaze, ensuring his eyes would only meet her momentarily at each instance. His tail continued to wag in short, slow arches as a sign of appeasement.

"I'll see you later, then," he halfheartedly replied, glancing over his shoulder at the other male, unsure if the statement was to be true or not.

His heart held no fear. It only retained a renewed sadness with a twinge of loss.