Post by Wind Song on Apr 7, 2007 15:14:59 GMT -5
The gentle winds ruffle your pelt as you roam the land. The roaring sounds of the human cars fade slowly. The sky is a sweet, rich blue, and the grass is a soft blanket of green laid out before you. Far ahead, your sharp dog eyes see a green and brown blur. You know this is the forest. As you trot confidently across the land, a howl pierces the air. Your ears prick up, and you listen to it. Other dog's voices join in, in an eerie chorus of the dogs.
You walk more cautiously now. As you near the forest, the sound of rolling water in the distance takes you aback. You continue more quickly now, realizing how parched you are, after your long journey in the summer sun. Beside the rushing waters, you crouch and drink, your sore paws glad to feel the spongy, damp morning floor of the forest. You lift your head the sky.
You had come from a city, alongside this country landscape. There are five packs. Where will you go? Who will you side with? This is all your choice.
Indeed, this is your choice. Many dogs are here to fight beside, strong and weak, young and old, but nothing makes a difference now. You are all fighting for one thing.
Survival.
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