sometimes quiet is violent

:( RIP Junkyard Dog

Junkyard Dog drew herself up, as though the first act of defiance emboldened her. She opened her mouth to say something, to spit abuses at him again, but before any words could come out, he struck.

At first, it only felt like a pressure. Junkyard Dog struck out, struggling in his grasp, though in the end that would prove her downfall. Moments later, the pain caught up with her, and she let out a wheezing cry. Blood fell down her neck, hot in the cold air. She felt the rough bark against her back as she thrashed, the teeth digging deeper, deeper, until her strength failed her.

Time stretched longer in her final moments, where she drew in ragged breaths and let them out, steaming in the cold. And as her sight grew dim and her thoughts scattered, she recalled her single, comforting thought. The voice of Dogmeat rumbled a warm, comforting, "good dog" to her, and then Junkyard Dog was dead.