Post by Deleted on Jun 28, 2013 18:27:12 GMT
"Speech."
The rain was pounding down, coming down in heavy sheets and making it a little hard to see. In the storm, a lone figure lurched through the rain. His steps were uneven, jerky. He held his back left leg off the ground, curling it up against his belly and side. Rain dripped off his pelt and face. His ears were back as he limped into the gates of the junk yard and he stopped briefly, exhausted. His legs trembled with tiredness, but the shepherd forced himself to keep going. As he limped forward, his mind was stuck on the fight he had just barely escaped from. Blood had covered his pelt, but the rain had since washed it away even as the wounds kept bleeding. He could still hear the snarls of the other canines as they had chased him out of the junk yard and into the storm. Their taunting words still echoed in his ears, and the large canine let out a soft whimper. Never before had he felt so weak, so vulnerable, as he did right now in this moment. And finally, he could go no further.
His legs legs turned to liquid beneath him and the canine collapsed with a grunt. "Hacer que el dolor pare ..." He grumbled softly as he lay in the mud, the rain hitting him like little pebbles pelting him. He sighed through his nose, regretting it immediately as his ribs expanded, sending pain rocketing through his body. He closed his eyes tight, wanting to just die right now. The pain was unbearable. His body was covered in bites and scratches, and blood was starting to mix with rain and mud around him. He couldn't move, he was too exhausted. He couldn't help but also picture his brother's lifeless body that he had to leave behind. There had been too many. Six against two wasn't exactly a fair fight. Butch's eyes closed tighter, and his heart seemed to stop altogether. Reich had been the only family Butch had left. And now he too was gone.
As Butch lay in the mud and blood, the rain still pouring down on him, he wished for death. Reich had always been his right-paw dog. Always there at his side, through rain and snow and hell and hunger. And now Butch had nobody. And he couldn't think of anything worse. He let out a sigh, and laid there without moving. He and Reich had fought hard, fighting to keep the junk yard as their home. And though they had won. They had also lost. Reich had been killed and Butch was on paper thin border of life and death. He was barely hanging on, and he so desperately wanted to let go. It was then he heard a voice. A voice he knew well. A voice he didn't want to hear at all. And he saw another dog running toward him as blackness clouded his vision. He only hoped the other dog would kill him quickly.
"Yo voy, Reich..." He whispered.
TRANSLATIONS:
Hacer que el dolor pare ... = make the pain stop
Yo voy, Reich... = I'm coming, Riech
The rain was pounding down, coming down in heavy sheets and making it a little hard to see. In the storm, a lone figure lurched through the rain. His steps were uneven, jerky. He held his back left leg off the ground, curling it up against his belly and side. Rain dripped off his pelt and face. His ears were back as he limped into the gates of the junk yard and he stopped briefly, exhausted. His legs trembled with tiredness, but the shepherd forced himself to keep going. As he limped forward, his mind was stuck on the fight he had just barely escaped from. Blood had covered his pelt, but the rain had since washed it away even as the wounds kept bleeding. He could still hear the snarls of the other canines as they had chased him out of the junk yard and into the storm. Their taunting words still echoed in his ears, and the large canine let out a soft whimper. Never before had he felt so weak, so vulnerable, as he did right now in this moment. And finally, he could go no further.
His legs legs turned to liquid beneath him and the canine collapsed with a grunt. "Hacer que el dolor pare ..." He grumbled softly as he lay in the mud, the rain hitting him like little pebbles pelting him. He sighed through his nose, regretting it immediately as his ribs expanded, sending pain rocketing through his body. He closed his eyes tight, wanting to just die right now. The pain was unbearable. His body was covered in bites and scratches, and blood was starting to mix with rain and mud around him. He couldn't move, he was too exhausted. He couldn't help but also picture his brother's lifeless body that he had to leave behind. There had been too many. Six against two wasn't exactly a fair fight. Butch's eyes closed tighter, and his heart seemed to stop altogether. Reich had been the only family Butch had left. And now he too was gone.
As Butch lay in the mud and blood, the rain still pouring down on him, he wished for death. Reich had always been his right-paw dog. Always there at his side, through rain and snow and hell and hunger. And now Butch had nobody. And he couldn't think of anything worse. He let out a sigh, and laid there without moving. He and Reich had fought hard, fighting to keep the junk yard as their home. And though they had won. They had also lost. Reich had been killed and Butch was on paper thin border of life and death. He was barely hanging on, and he so desperately wanted to let go. It was then he heard a voice. A voice he knew well. A voice he didn't want to hear at all. And he saw another dog running toward him as blackness clouded his vision. He only hoped the other dog would kill him quickly.
"Yo voy, Reich..." He whispered.
TRANSLATIONS:
Hacer que el dolor pare ... = make the pain stop
Yo voy, Reich... = I'm coming, Riech