animus vox

wrapping up

Despite the initial disorder in their group, they seemed to be falling into place -- a helpful suggestion there, a volunteered effort here -- Dogmeat felt his bosom rise with a sense of pride. They would make it. They had to.

He canted a ear in Junkyard Dog's direction as she spoke, and he watched the schnauzer it spoke with Outlaw. He would hang back for now and let the others formulate a plan. He trusted them -- like himself, they were hungry. And so little in the world matched the precocious capabilities of a hungry dog.

Once camp had broken and each had been assigned a task Dogmeat slipped into a curled ball, licking his wounds until sleep overcame him.