and when you wanted someone else, i withdrew [van crash]

AW - This is set IMMEDIATELY after the crash. I don't think a postorder is necessary :]

The Otoko never came after lights off - it was not their custom. Dogmeat watched suspiciously as they opened each cage and lead forth from isolation each worried, nervous inu. He had spent the last of his five years subservient to the Otoko's whim and so he was happy to oblige them -- it was Their eternal world they created, and Their everlasting Will that overruled them.

The truck he climbed into without question, watching as some lesser inu balked and whined. Soon the gates closed and the vehicle roared into life, jostling each wide-eyed captive. They traveled in silence save for the occasional whine, which Dogmeat silenced with a snarl.

He did not anticipate what came next -- the entire of his world upheaved. There was no time to collect his surroundings -- there was only the mechanical whine of the truck overturned. The wild panicked cries of his kennelmates. Stupefied by the collision Dogmeat extricated himself from the ruined heap of kennel and meshwire, his gaze falling on the limp human with pale arm and delicate fingers outstretched. Her round and furless face, ivory with shock, unmoving.

He did not inspect the Otoko further. Staggering backwards, the male turned himself to the squealing wreck behind him and busied himself with excavating those he could.

Having been raised by a gentle hand, and then faced with a hand that not only hurt, but harmed and killed, Spectre was understandably nervous when the strangers approached his kennel. They didn't bother to restrain him; he didn't lash out, but hurried forward whenever a new door opened and soon found himself faced with the wide-eyed faces of his fellow victims in the chilly night.

The ride was uneventful. Dogmeat would cow anyone who vocalized their fears. He sat in silence, curled up on the floor of the transport, listening to the soft rumble of the road and the breathing of those around him. He was thankful for his... well, comrade's presence. It was calming, somehow, that he was still here with him.

Suddenly, the world went haywire and he was knocked violently against the side of his cage. The door's latch was knocked loose and his cage was chucked from the back. It broke upon impact, and he was thrown violently against the ground with a pop as his back-leg gave out from the strange angle it landed on. He rolled, paws over back, two more times until he came to a stop.

Dazed, he laid there for a few seconds to catch his breath. Then slowly, tenderly, he rolled onto his stomach and looked around. His vision cleared; the squalling noise of the trapped and frightened animals caused him to inhale sharply, steel his nerves, and rise to his feet. His gait was hobbling, but the movement helped him gain a bit of strength and he moved around the other side of the vehicle to look for other survivors.

I hope it's okay if I do this- I'm gonna have his friend be one of the dead ones just for dramaz.

It had happened fast. It was strange to Outlaw, to have the upwalkers being kind. Rescuing him. All his life he'd been abused, or unwanted, or mistreated, or tested on. And now the upwalkers were saving him from the horrible cage place. He sat in black van quietly, not whining unlike some weak puppy hearted dogs. His brown eyes flitted over across the van to Railroad, his best friend. Railroad's eyes met his, before Outlaw's glanced around at the dogs nearby. Many were faces he recognized from SycamoreLabs, but he knew next to nobody.

Suddenly the van flipped.

He was trying to get his balance or stay safe while it flipped a few times. He let out a an uncool girly scream. His limp leg hit the van wall hard, and he whined. His cage door swung open wildly and fast, his cage hitting the walls hard. The distressed teenager ran from the van as soon as it stopped, but turned back towards it. Outlaw needed Railroad with him so they could go... Wherever. He sniffed through the wreckage quickly, barely noticing the other dead bodies. Barely realizing his luck. And lying there, in the midst of them, was the grey fur of Railroad. When Outlaw's eyes found the corpse, he let out a sob. He rushed towards the body. He stuck his muzzle in Railroad's face. "Wake up, Railroad, bro! We gotta go!" He yelled loudly to the body. His mind knew the truth, but his heart denied it. His eyes filled with tears, he took one last look at his best friend's body. Then he looked up at the other dogs. After seeing what they were doing, he took the older dog's leads and began to sniff around for any other lucky ducks.

*flails excitedly in* :D

What in all the hells was going on???

It was not the first time, nor the last time that little Kamikaze would think those words that day. It had started simple enough - her master had pulled her out of her kennel and strapped her onto her most favoritest table where they applied her most favoritest assortments of salves and balms while she cried. Then they'd put her back in her home where she settled down onto the cold floor and fell asleep, breathing in the sweet stench of her own filth.

Then those other humans had come. They'd come when they weren't supposed to - at night when it was time for her to sleep. Why would they come when it was time for her to sleep? She wasn't supposed to come out of her kennel until morning when her masters came home. It didn't make any sense. And why were they talking to her with such hushed and sweet voices? Saying nice things to her and touching her like they were fond of her or something? That wasn't right. They weren't supposed to speak to her, only to each other. None of this was right. All of it was wrong. Just wrong, wrong, wrong.

And then she was being taken out of the building and into the cold. Why were they doing these things to her? And who were these other dogs? Their scents were familiar, some of their faces too, but they had never been pushed together like this where they could... interact. No, no no no no. This wasn't right. Why was this happening? Why? What in all the hells was going on?

Then came the crash, which I can't even get into right now, it's just too much. It was all light and noise and pain, and suddenly cold. All around her, dogs were emerging from their broken crates while others lied still and lifeless and some, like Kamikaze, remained frozen and terrified. Her heart cried out for her masters. She didn't want to be here. She wanted to back at the facility, strapped down and uncomfortable and in pain, but making them happy. She stared, trembling at the broken lock upon her cage. The door was still shut and even though she was perfectly capable of opening for herself, she sat and waited for her masters to come and open it for her, like they always did. Where were they? What in all the hells was going on?

Around him pandemonium reigned, besieging his tightly clasped ears. The terror about them rife, poignant -- dogs of every hide and nation surfacing from the rubble like rogue phantoms unleashed from some otherworldly portal.

Dogmeat regained sensibility quicker than most, though he felt the sharp touch of venomous pain to his side. He had noticed it before, but now it was painfully present -- the mottled hue of his hide dark with rising crimson.

He walked past Outlaw, a dog he knew only by scent and sight, his eyes fastened on the dead canine Outlaw vainly tried to stir. Past Spectre, who like him pawed through the devastating ruin for survivors. The stark inu stopped then when he saw a creature cowering in a disheveled kennel -- sternly the man pressed a broad paw to the door and watched as it creaked loudly upon bent hinges. "Get out." He peered inwards, adjusting to the shadows that envoloped Kamikaze -- his gaze locking with hers but for a moment. Yet the instance was fleeting, and shouldering a rising fear of paranoia, the dog set off towards the next stunned victim.

Crimson had gone into the van willing enough. The wire cages and the leashes of no real surprise to him. So used to them as he was. His right eye twitched when the kennel door closed. His right side twitching too. Ever so often his body would jump of its own accord. It was frustrating and annoying, but he dealt it. As he rode along in the van, ever so often a soft heckle would leave his lips.

He was finally falling to a much needed nap, when the world was turned around. Yelping he was thrown to the bars of the cage. It fell to the ground with a large thump. The van kept moving back and forth and flipping around. Finally his cage door busted open. Flying from it he went ass over end and ended up flat on his face. Blood pooled at his feet from the wound on his tongue. He whimpered, but didn't move at first. He slowly crawled from the wreckage and let at the edge of the road, panting. His body spasmed as he lay there, rapidly. It was normal, but this was a little more than usual.

He'd help them in a minute. He just needed to catch his breath.

Sensing a change on the wind, Sweet Tooth had had little choice in the matter when loaded into a cage and onto the vans. Failing to recognize the difference in human contact, and indifferent to it, it was the setting that interested her. Hope of escape had long since fled, but after being held in the same cage for over a year, even a change of bars was a development worth considering.

She had made no friends, not really, and when the crash came the well-being of others was hardly on her mind. Thrown roughly against the cage walls, she lay a moment, gathering her senses before looking up to find..... Nothing. The bars were gone.

With uncertain movements she crawled from the wreckage, stinging cuts and bruises aching but walking without much difficulty. Beneath her paws the ground was soft, a sensation she had felt only a couple of times in her life, and she dug her claws into the loam, staring about. She could barely wrap her mind around it.

After so long, finally, freedom. An unknown world, one that would need to be approached with caution, but one that could only be better than that which she had left behind.

Outlaw glanced up from his sniffing, which was not helping much. At the Lab it was simple- strange fluids, dogs, humans, lab tile, lab wall, needle, metal. A few other scents, but that was pretty much it. But here in the wild the ground was crowded with too many scents- so many things, it was too confusing. And so much noise. Cicadas, screaming, sobbing, buzzing, an owl, a bat screech, rustling in the trees and bushes, and so many strange animal sounds far off that he couldn't identify. There were so many scents to name. So instead of continuing the useless task, his haunted brown eyes flitted to the open van doors. A few more live dogs had emerged from the wreckage, recognized by face, but still unknown to him. The two he had seen before still seemed to be looking for life. A big dog with a strange scar across his face said something as he pushed open a cage door. Something was inside, but from here, he couldn't see what. Or who. He walked towards the big dog, about to ask what to do now. He seemed old and brave to Outlaw so far. So he's probably wise and old enough and stuff to know what to do now, right? Outlaw thought. But he hesitated nervously, staying a few yards behind Dogmeat.

Minion never cooperated with anyone but himself. A long time ago that wasn't the case, but that was before the humans killed his siblings. Not only that, but they had starved him, hurt him, scarred him both physically and mentally! That had eliminated any chances of cooperation from that point out.

When the humans came to take him out, he snapped and bit at them. Minion had even managed to make one bleed, resulting in a muzzle being placed over his face. Then, he had been put into a van with other of his kind. Even without the muzzle still sealing his mouth closed, Minion would've stayed silent. He had never bothered talking to any of the other dogs at that foul place besides his siblings, and a change of scenery wasn't going to change that. Hell, he hadn't used his voice in so long besides growling and whining, he wasn't sure if it was even capable of pronouncing words anymore.

Suddenly, the world was upside down. When things were back to normal, he was on the ground. However, this ground wasn't flat - it was bumpy and rough! His thoughts on the weird ground were interrupted by the pain. a spot on the left side of his muzzle stung, as well as his right front leg. It was running a tongue over facial wound that made Minion realize that the muzzle was off of him.

Slowly, he stood. The splintered metal bars of the crate were surrounding him, one sticking out of his paw. Ignoring the pain was easy. When you knew what it felt like to have your organs burning from the inside out, pain on the surface of your skin was easy to ignore.

A dead body of another dog caught his attention, and Minion's stomach grumbled. Not giving it another thought, he feasted on the dead body. He vomited twice before managing to keep enough down to fill himself.

Like Minion, Reaper, too, snapped at the humans who had come to collect them in the dead of the night. So used to the strange, furless hands indicating another round of experiments as he was, he fought them off with snarls and threatening bites. That was until another two pairs of arms emerged and, together, shoved his head roughly to the ground, quickly fastening the all-too familiar muzzle onto his jaws. The sound of grating metal and hushed whispers followed, accompanied by the frantic whining and barking of the other dogs from the facility. A loud car engine started somewhere close and Reaper was suddenly thrown against the side of his cage as they begun to move.

The journey to wherever they were headed was largely uneventful, the rumbling of the van and the shock of the rude awakening lulling some dogs back to sleep. Reaper, however, continued to paw at the cage, every so often letting out a sharp whine that was silenced by a deep, unknown snarl.

Then, suddenly, their world was quite literally turned upside down.

There was the sound of screeching tires before they tumbled, cages abruptly thrown against each other, stirring the settled animals as they exploded into fits of barking and hissing. Reaper barely had time to react, his head knocked against the side of his cage and his own world went black.

However, it didn't take long for the mutt to regain his senses — albeit, he awoke disoriented and uncharacteristically calm. Panicked cries and the scent of blood and other animals flooded his senses, which Reaper regarded with only a twitch of his ear as he groggily lifted his head. He had ended up being thrown from his cage, his body weight forcing the door open. Squinting, the dog stared as dark, formless shapes wandered around the wreckage, before pain seared in the deep cut above his left eye, causing him to growl and paw at it, also realising he still had the muzzle on. He was thankful for the physical pain, though, being a somewhat pleasant distraction from the chaos he and the other lab dogs had suddenly found themselves in.

The swarthy male hung back, if for a moment, his gaze tentative as several more dogs emerged from the metal rubble. One staggered forth and drove past him -- the other hunched as it pawed at the wicked piece of leather that entrapped its muzzle.

Dogmeat's gaze shifted to Outlaw, who skirted behind him in the true fashion of a herder. His expression darkened -- soon the rest of the otoko would come, flitting through the wreckage like lissome ghouls. He had no intention of being caught again -- not now when freedom bid boldly in his fluttering heart.

With a wry smile the beast advanced upon Reaper with several uncoordinated steps -- his tailfluff bobbing as he tilted his blunt muzzle to the side and inspected the leather folds that entrapped Reaper's skull. Dogmeat would remove it, if the beast let him close enough -- but if Reaper did not welcome his advance the brute would turn towards the woods with the rest of the disorganized pack.

Survivors, he soon came to find, were few and far between. Though the dogs seemed to fair relatively well, many of the smaller creatures lay strew across the road or still locked in their cages, listless and bleeding. He felt no sorrow for them; their luck had run out before it even began. As Spectre was quickly learning: it was just how the world worked. Either you win, or you lose.

He caught sight of the ratty looking Northern breed muzzle deep in the cavity of another dog. A bit of bile burbled up his throat at the sight of all that red meat (we never eat the flesh of our own; this isn't right) and he soon found himself heaving beside the truck. The russet spaniel coughs, spit dribbling off his jowls, and turns back the way he came.

Many more had broken free, or were in the middle of doing so. He noticed the slender female sighthound standing off a bit, looking a little dazed. He approached with his head down, tail wagging, and gave off a soft wuff of encouragement. As soon as Dogmeat was done with that muzzle, they could leave.

I thought Darkside should jump in

When the humans came and tried to put him in the cage, Darkside was not willing to obey. But as he snapped and bit at every human hand that came near him, he was brought down by a good shock from the electric collar he earned from the trouble he caused. Dazed, he was put into the wretched cage as the van started driving. Only as they had gone some of the journey had he recovered.

Awake from the shock, Darkside sat in boredom in his cage, using his paws to unlatch his cage catch. Right as it swung open and Darkside was ready to jump out, the van skidded. The german shepherd managed to cling onto the bars of his cage. Phew, good luck. he thought as he got his forepaws out of the cage. Then it happened. The van flipped. Half outside his cage, Darkside flew (flying dog wooop) out of his cage, slammed into the van side opposite it, flipped and hit the roof of the van, then slammed back onto a cage as the back of the van doors opened.

Darkside laid there, recovering from the impact of flip. He managed to shakily stand up, nothing seemed broken or out of place. Thank whatever dog gods look over them. Many had leaped past him and had escaped, and all his instincts told him to run after them. The shepherd took a careful step forward. No permanent pain was inflicted upon him, just some tiredness and strain that will last for a while.

A dog was near him, but Darkside couldn't identify who it was. His world was blurry and he was regretting opening the catch to his cage. But his mind was clear enough to tell him the dog was eating another dog. Darkside flinched. But he had seen worst in life and he will see worst. The german shepherd looked back and barked, " @Talon , ya there? If you are, I'll be outside waiting. I'll go find a good sheltering spot." Before leaping out himself and into an unknown world.

Truthfully, it was a miracle that Axel hadn't been killed already. He had never been a very cooperative dog at the lab. He cowered, he snarled (and sometimes snapped) at gloved hands that reached ominously toward him in his cage, he writhed and he tugged when handled or moved, and he frequently urinated on himself and whatever unfortunate humans were tasked with dealing with him. But it was cheaper to deal with his shit than it was to replace him, so he continued to live...probably much to the dismay of many a piss-stained and angry lab employee.

So he had struggled and fought when he was ushered into a cage, whining and growling at the fingers -- oddly ungloved this time -- that touched him. There was a rumble and then the odd sensation of moving without the aid of his own legs. He cowered in the back of his small cage, eyeing his surroundings with a mixture of feral distrust and paralyzed terror. After a while, though, the steady rhythm of the engine and the gentle swaying motion of the van soothed his nerves somewhat and he began to relax a little.

Then all hell broke loose.

There was horrendous noise all around him. He was tossed violently in his cage, catching a brief glimpse of the ground spinning toward him before his head smashed the side of his cage and he blacked out.

When he came to, it was his hearing that returned to him first. He could hear voices, whimpers, and other dog noises. He cracked his eyes open slowly, wincing at the light and the thunderous pain in his head. He was dimly aware of the warm sensation of blood oozing on his head; there was a bizarre, morbid sort of comfort in the familiarity of it, as bleeding was something he'd done a lot of in his years at the lab. His cage was upside down and he lay in a ragged heap on its ceiling; he could see other dogs roaming around outside, and while he felt a small urge to join them, he felt an even greater desire to just stay in his cage. Fear, trickling back into him as his awareness returned in full, set its icy grip around his heart and squeezed.

Sweet Tooth stared around her, taking stock. Instantly her mind had set off in one direction - survive. To do so she would need three things; food, water, and protection. The first two would follow, but the third was standing right in front of her. Running off on her own would do her absolutely no good right now. She needed to remain, take advantage of safety in numbers as well as the comradeship of larger, more battle-hardened fellows. Sweet Tooth was a tall specimen but lacked the bulk of her more sturdy companions. When her gaze set on Reaper, she sidled closer. He seemed the perfect candidate as a start.

Seeing one of their number tear into a poor, dead soul a short ways away, her lip curled with distaste, but she said nothing. When she had been a starving stray she had not cared much where her food came from, but here she was not so desperate yet. Looking aside from the gory scene, attention panned to a spaniel, the first to acknowledge her. She gave a small nod of acknowledgement, but silently she discounted him. Should it come down to a split up she would stay with the survivors, the fighters. But for now she'd play nice.

Looking to Dogmeat, she uttered her first words in a very long time. "Do we stick together?" He seemed to be taking on the role of organizer here and she wasn't about to argue.

Something, this night, was different. After the kennel lights turned off, the Men returned. This was unusual, but not unheard of. Sometimes, when she thought that the day was over and she was safe (perhaps forever? Each night she thought that maybe they had left and would never return, and each morning she was disappointed, but only briefly, as they would always bring food shortly after) the light would turn back on for a moment, pitching her into anxiety until they shut off again. Tonight, however, though the Men returned, the light did not come back on. This was different, and Junkyard Dog did not like it.

They were loaded into crates, and seemed undeterred when she growled lowly at them, baring her teeth in warning. They simply spoke in soft, soothing tones, which lulled her despite her fear. Soon the crates were loaded into a car, with her in the midst of them all.

The car began to move. The motioned sickened her, and so she whined. Dogmeat silenced her shortly after she began, as he did with others who made noise, and so though her stomach churned, she tucked her head against her side and remained silent.

Then all was pitched into chaos. There was a great screeching, an upheaval of everything around her. There were a few moments in limbo, where the world moved faster than her mind could keep up with. And then things settled. There was movement, but it was far away, and she was trapped beneath a number of dog crates. Her own was half-broken open on one side, the snaps that held the top of her crate to the bottom broken. It was through this gap that she escaped, though the sharp plastic scraped and rubbed at her sore skin. Even once she was free, she had to maneuver from the back of the van, and seemed to be one of the last to escape.

Outside the night air was cold, unpleasant. She had a few cuts and scrapes, and her head ached, but she was packed tightly among the crates, and was near the bottom. There were several things happening, but she cared little for them, and instead looked to Dogmeat. "What now? Go, I will follow," Junkyard Dog said in her rough voice, afraid but alive. She would persist.

More emerged from the wreckage, although he wasn't paying much attention. His brown eyes flicked towards each confused, crazed, sad face. But his focus was some kid who had emerged also. A husky or something. And he was... Eating something, it looked like. Outlaw walked forward, hungry, and about to join in the meal without asking. But then he saw what the kid was eating. It was a dog. The young boy, who was probably too young to be tested on, was a cannibal. He was eating a dog. Outlaw felt the urge to puke, but held back. He walked up, trembling, and his angry and shocked brown eyes settled on the kid's face. "Why are you eating that?" Outlaw growled, his tone threatning towards the youth.

Kamikaze froze in fear as the large, scarred dog came to her kennel. She was convinced that he was there to kill her, but all he did was pull open the door of her cage and continue on his way. She sat still for a while, staring off after his form as he went about exploring the other dogs. Once he stopped at another fierce-looking creature and began freeing it of the muzzle that kept its jaws sealed, Kami finally found a teeny, tiny bit of her courage.

Very timidly, she placed a single paw against the cold iron of her crate and then, after a few seconds had passed, she placed another into the cold, wet snow. Once again, she became paralyzed with fear having not experienced the outdoors since she was back at the shelter. That seemed like an entire lifetime ago, and back then, she'd always had someone with her to watch over her when she explored the world outside her crate. She stared at the dogs as they meandered around her and began to whine piteously - a wordless request for help or attention or.. She didn't even know what exactly. She wanted her masters. Why weren't they here when she needed them the most?

Fury got to his feet and lurched sideways towards the few that were alive. Though he did not get along with many, he was a pack animal. And pack animals stayed together.

He moved forward and touched his nose to the other dog. THe one who seemed to be the leader. Right eye twitching quiet laughter coming from his maw he spoke.

Whaddaya...chuckle...need...chuckle....me..to...do...son.... He snorted trying ot control the laughter that plagued him. It was a unfortunate side effect of his year in the slammer. He snorted and twitch..twitch..his body went.

To the apparent eye, Warthog was possessed of a brawny dullness, for few knew of the rapier-sharp wit that lurked beneath the veneer of excess strength. She too, had snapped at the harrying fingers of the humans who had sought to muzzle and to cage her, and had been pushed into her kennel hurriedly.

Head low between her shoulders, Warthog had rolled a sarcastic eyes at the fearful whines of her counterparts, a few of whom she had seen only a few times before chaos struck their convoy and she was thrown against the side of the van with a resounding crack.

She yelped at the bite of plastic against her sides, but tore free from her shattered prison all the same. A vicious slash of twisted metal as she jumped from the tipped car ended the life of her left dewclaw, and Warthog was dumped unceremoniously into the snow, crying piteously as blood spurted from the torn flesh.

She again was made afraid by the sudden cold, the dirty wet white beneath her paws; the dog had never seen snow before, and it stung the bloody stub of her declaw. She fought back the hateful coil of fear in her belly, and curled a lip at the cannibalizing canine.

"doesn't know any better," Warthog rasped through her unfortunate muzzle at the indignant Outlaw. But they were forgotten, and she was nauseous only until she caught sight of Dogmeat.

Shoving through the melee toward him, the Rottweiler found her place near, a forbidding guard against the snapping chaos of the confused dogs.

fading DM out :)

Disgust soured Dogmeat's countenance, his expression unkind as he regarded Minion and the spew he had upheaved. Dogmeat stalked stiffly away, abandoning the troubled and the wounded that held no favor with him.

With Reaper (assumed) free the male would offer his service to any other tied by leather -- should they approach him and entreat his assistance. He noted with a mild stroke of brevity the damage that had assayed them -- as many came and flanked about him a frown tugged his thick features. Many would not make the night.

Wordlessly, the male turned to those about him and limped off -- they were doing themselves no favors being so close to the scouring humans and their lancing white lightbeams.

Talon bared his fangs at the humans who attempted to move him out of his previous cage into a new one. But he did not bite them, knowing it would only give him more pain and a waste of effort. But he longed to sink his teeth into their flesh, taste their blood on his tongue, savor the taste of his captor's blood. Oh, how he wanted to hurt them, torture them, make them feel the same pain he went through. Pathetic beings. Watch them die painfully, gods, what he would give for that. The humans stuffed him into the van with a bunch of other animals, mostly dogs.

The husky sat, alert, as the van roared into life and began moving. Then suddenly, he was thrown to the side and his whole world turned upside down. The cage which contained him was smashed, broken and a piece of the metal cage dug into his flank. He ignored the pain. It wasn't too severe anyways, and it was a light kind of pain, he and all the dogs here knew worse.

Lying on his side, Talon slowly attempted to rise onto his paws, he fell the first time, but the second time he succeeded, though he stood shakily. He did not care for the metal biting into him, his first thought was to get out of the wreckage and get to Darkside. But it seems his friend had gotten out before him, the familiar voice of the german shepherd brought logical thoughts back into his head and he barked a reply.

Without a look back, Talon leaped out of the wrecked van and into the unknown.

A dog, whose name as he heard was Dogmeat. Seemed to be the leader around here. Darkside knew if he wanted to get in the top five in command, he'd have to Impress him. The german shepherd's amber eye narrowed. He was not one of command, but a little power over the rest of these dogs would be nice. But in his thoughts, Dogmeat has left. Now was not the time anyways. Darkside would do that the next chance he got.

A reply was heard from inside the van. Talon! All of Darkside's thoughts about leadership disappeared as he heard his friend. He was still inside! Darkside looked back, knowing Talon would make it out unless he was was hurt. Relief washed over him as the husky made his way out, with nothing but a piece of... Wait what? A piece of cage metal was stuck in his flank. This ain't good.

Darkside was ready to leap towards his friend, when one of his foreleg buckled. He replayed the scene of the flip, remembering he had hit the ceiling of the van hard with his leg. He sniffed himself, finding only a couple of bruises, but due to him outside his cage, he didn't get any wire stuck in his fur.

The german shepherd took another step forward, hobbling on three foot. "Talon!" He called out. "Come on! We have to escape here. There's still a human in the van!" He barked, reaching his friends with unsteady footsteps. "We have to at least get off this road!" He nudged his friend, pointing to where a couple of mountains(DFG) were. "We could head there, or at least find a place to rest tonight."He said, before leaping off the road, expecting his friend to follow.

fade :)

Outlaw's lip turned in disgust at Warthog's comment. "Disgusting Cannibal." He muttered, his eyes narrowing. He took a few paces back and turned. Others were already gathered around Dogmeat. He couldn't let them rub up to the king- Outlaw was meant to be second or third in command! He trotted up fast. "Let's go." He murmured quietly, almost to himself. Limping off after Dogmeat and the others, injured and bruised, but still strong. He left behind him the old life and chaos and his best friend's body. "Goodbye," He murmured quietly without looking back, tears sitting in his eyes. Then he caught up, staying a few paces behind Dogmeat but sure to keep close to the new king.

/quickly chucks a last post in

As Reaper continued to swipe at the restraint (loose as it was, as their rescuers had been in such a hurry and hadn't the time to properly fit it), he did not notice another approach until he was standing right in front of him. Pausing, the mutt looked up with unfocused but fearful eyes, staring at the scarred male. He wasn't used to such a non-threatning touch, but in his dazed state he allowed the man to pull the muzzle from his skull. After a few strong tugs it slipped off, and Reaper let loose a growl at the bands of leather that fell to the ground before looking up and watching the monochromatic-furred man move away to help the others.

The scene was fitful, the sounds of cries and shouts echoing into the night. The faint sound of chewing caused Reaper to quizzically turn his head, spotting a hunched figure leaning over another. He wasn't entirely sure what he was doing, but some of the other dogs seemed disgusted by the sight. He heard one murmur cannibal. Reaper turned again, trying to discern whoever said that before he noticed a slim figure make her way towards him. He regarded her impassively and then followed her gaze as she spoke to the man who seemed to be taking charge. Two other dogs had run off into the night — along with other smaller, startled animals — but most had remained.

It was quickly becoming apparent that the ragtag group would have to relocate, and soon. The rumbling of vans in the distance slowly growing louder and human shouts were heard, followed by beams of lights that suddenly begun searching the devastating scene.