sometimes quiet is violent

*Junkyard Dog* · (This post was last modified: February 06, 2015, 06:59 PM by Junkyard Dog.)

<3 and also :( poor doggy

In the stillness of the dying day, Junkyard Dog could hear everything. Snow crunched under her assailant's paws, and his breaths came even, a ghostly precursor to something far more tangible. A silence fell for a moment, a space between their breaths. It seemed as though Junkyard Dog's heart was beating loudly, too loudly, oh, why wouldn't it be quiet? Could he hear it? How could he not?

As he spoke, she held her breath, trying desperately to keep quiet. He wouldn't find her. He wouldn't find her. He wouldn't-

Junkyard Dog let out a sound between a cry and a gasp, wheeling back as well as she could. He had appeared suddenly, and her heart leaped in her chest. Now cornered, she had nothing left but anger, rage at an unjust world that she fixed into a glare filled with poison. "Fuck you," she spat, having nothing else to say. Junkyard Dog would not run.