You wake the next morning to being licked in the face, and having little paws all over you.  Opening your eyes, you see about twenty puppies licking your face, scrambling over you, sniffing in your ear.

After a little bit, Scar comes up and leads you outside to a small cliff. He demonstrates its use by raising a leg.

After that business, he leads you both over to a different trail than the one you came in on.  Its packed earth leading across a small meadow, and into the deep woods.

....Run....

And training begins.  It seems much of dog war is a matter of running and slashing attacks, and whoever has the greater endurance has a decided advantage.  The path takes you two miles through the woods down to a thin beach below slate rock. It is the East Beach, the most eastward point of the Great Isle.

Scar is not even winded.

....Let's go....

He turns to lead you back up the track.

Running... I hate running. I thought to myself when we reached the meadow. Why couldn't I stay in the cave with the cute puppies. When I woke up I was mildly confused, I had been sure it was all a dream but the canine mosh-pit proved me wrong. I still couldn't believe my situation but I suppose sleeping on it somewhat acclimatised me to the who idea. There wasn't anything I could do now besides find a way home, and if that meant helping the dogs, then I guess that's what I was going to do. I made small-talk with Taylor, but mainly kept to myself throughout the early moments of the morning as I continued to think about our predicament. By the time we reached the trail you could say I had steeled myself, but then the dog said we'd be running.

My feet thumped heavily on the dirt as I tried to keep up, subtle pains shooting through my right knee. "I know... they say humans... evolved as... predators... because they could... outlast their... prey..." I said through laboured breaths before sighing contently as we reached the beach, wiping sweat from my brows and stretching my lower back, "It's been way to long since my last workout..."
This message was last edited by the player at 08:25, Mon 20 June 2016.

The night offers me a chance to compose my mind with a familiar setting. Although I don't stuff myself into the dogpile, I do lay next to it, subtly snuggling up to the dogs nearest the bottom. The feel of the sleeping dogs brought me back to my home, and I had to wonder if I'd ever get back there one day. Who knew? Maybe I'd wake up back in my own bed.

------

The awakening I receive was quite splendid. The adorable mobbing by the pups made me smile wide. I always loved playing with pups. After they went off to mob Zionn, I realize where I was. I was still here, stuck in this dog world. As much as the idea sounded nice in concept, I felt bad, and almost ashamed of myself. I dully note Zionn's distance, and I couldn't blame him. There was so much to process, I almost couldn't wrap my mind around it. Whatever the dogs saw in us, I clearly could not see in myself. And beyond everything, I doubtingly wonder if I could even bring myself to kill dogs in someone else's war. It was a nightmarish idea.

On that thought, "training" began. We ran two miles, and although I try my best to run with the other dogs, me and Zionn gravely lagged behind. I feel as if the dogs were running quite a bit slower than they should, or could, have run, but I was more grateful than anything. I have not run this much in a long time. The scarred hound's indication of a return trip made my heart sink as I gasped trying to catch my breath. This was not going to be a fun time. And the worst part is (call me a pessimist), is that no matter how much we train, we would never be as physically fit to fight a pack of dogs. We needed something to help us.

Scar lets both of you rest as he impatiently sits there.  After a couple minutes, he wanders down to the water, and with a careful eye out, he jabs his nose into the shallows.  Often as not, he comes back with a tiny fish or a crawdad like creature.

By the time you're rested, he has a gallon sized pile. He swallows a few, offers some to each of you, and he and the other dogs carry a mouthful, but that leaves a half-gallon that is buried under sand kicked up by his feet.

One advantage of dogpathy is that he can 'talk' to you even with a mouthfull.

....Run...

We rest and catch our breath as the dog fishes, leaving a pile on the beach. I look at Taylor, "We'll be eating sashimi if we don't get a fire going, let's bring a couple back with us and see if we can get them cooked..." that sparks an idea as I bend over to put a fish or two in my pockets, "If fire only occurs naturally in this world we might be able to use it too our advantage, maybe frighten off the enemy dogs, make them think we're magic, and not have to fight them... or something." I mull over the idea in my head, first thing's first, we'll have to make some, now I'm no survivalist but I do know the basics so hopefully Taylor and I can work something out when we return to the cave, I wish I had my firestarter...

....we know how to make fire.....

Once you get back, he shows you the method.

He takes you to a nearby clear spot surrounded by large rocks.  A stone circle for a campfire is near the edge.  In it is a pile of tinder, and another dog with a glum look on his face is shaving twigs into tinder with his teeth and paws.

....annoyed the Old One's wife again, Lucky?....Scar asks with a smirk in his voice.

....that woman has no sense of humor....Lucky grumbles back getting back up out of the way.

Scar picks up a stone laying right next to the ring of stones, and carefully places it in the center of the tinder.  Then he climbs up a nearby rock to a ten foot tall perch, and stands above the cleared area with a rock in his mouth that he picked up from atop the over rock.  Eyeballing it carefully, he flings the stone from his mouth, and it lands in the tinder a few inches from the center stone.  Grumbling, he comes down again to try again....

Our training went from running to storing uncooked fish, to running again. If this was how it would be every day, my legs might just give out from under me. Zionn brought up what I had been toying with for awhile. Yet, my hopes were dashed when the dogs said they knew how to make fire. I would have to get over my dislike of fish if I wanted to be in top form. The run back was equally as taxing, and I could tell from the flushed face of Zionn that he was having as poor a time as I. I watched as the dog attempted his way of making fire without opposable thumbs.

"I am by no means an avid firestarter, but I feel like we may have an easier time starting a fire." I took the stone from the circle and knelt down next to the campfire. As I got to work nicking the stone against its brethren, I turned to the scarred hound and asked, "What should we call you? You never introduced yourself. Also, if you may add, can we learn a little bit about your past? For example, where the Fang Tribe originates from, or your experiences with the Lions. Also, why do your wives 'hate you.'"

He stares in surprise as you start a fire in ten seconds.  Lucky crowds around too.

....So that is what they are for.  You can lift stuff without your mouth.....the amazement in Scar's voice is strong.

When he sees you both pick up fish, he again is startled.  Then he examines the pockets.

.....is this a hold thing like the bigmouth birds use? Why do you have a second skin?.....

After calming down, he answers your questions as he lays by the fire, and you cook the small fishes.

....I am Scar.  I used to have another name, but we change our names at big events in our lives.  You do not?....I have this name because I am the most scarred one of my tribe.  I like to fight, and one day got trapped by three Fang dogs.  They left me for dead.....

.....Generations ago....(you feel a sense of vagueness about the time) we were living here, and it was after we had driven the Lions to the rocks, and the Fang Tribe came floating, they said they fled a smoking mountain, and the mountain had cast down many trees which they floated on....and we had pity on them....but they repaid us with cruelty....and now our wives see many of our young and our old are going to starve in the winter.  And so they hate us for our failure....
This message was last edited by the player at 06:32, Wed 22 June 2016.

I search the surroundings for sticks to skewer the fish with as I listen to Scar recount the arrival of the Fangs, "So you were betrayed," I say as I return to the fire-pit. I take a seat as I prepare the fish, "We would love to help you, but to take anothers life, regardless of circumstance will be difficult for us." I dig the sticks into the ground so they raise at an angle above the fire, "I cannot speak for Taylor, but I am prepared to guarantee my help, but in exchange, we must first take the time to consider a way of driving them off without bloodshed. I am sure there is a way. We're a people of ingenuity, we have knowledge that may be foreign to you and the Fang Tribe, I'm sure we can use that to our advantage to solve this war before it begins." I twist the sticks slightly, making sure they are cooked evenly. I examine the surroundings, trying to get a bead on the time of year, "How long until the winter?"

In reply to Zionn (msg # 38):

Given that you're near a forrest, small sticks are not hard to come by.  Again, you amaze them.

Scar thinks for a bit, and then says.....so you have a law laid upon you by Mercy, the fourth of the Nine Gods. Then this you must do. One must obey the gods....

....winter comes, if early, the first snow in four months, if late, in six months......

.....many of those puppies will not survive the winter....Lucky says. Scar snaps at him.

.....Lucky never knows when to keep his mind quiet.....and then both of them whimper mournfully.

"Our 'second skin' is made from plants carefully prepared and strung together to cover our bodies. They act as fur, and keep us warm. And these 'hold-things' are pockets, which do allow us to carry things with us." I say, trying to explain our ways to the amazed dogs.

I listen to the dogs' mournful story, trying in vain to think of something we could do. I ask Zionn for a fish, and miserably force myself to eat it. While struggling with the fish, I feel a gap in the conversation and feel like I should add in. "We are going to have to find a way to settle this situation before winter, or at least gather food while we wait for winter. Me and my friend, Zionn, will need to discuss ways to help. I'm sure we could figure something out."

Then we will leave the Moonsent Heroes to take counsel with themselves.....Scar says.  Lucky stares at you two, until Scar nips him on the side, and they both leave.  You can hear the running of feet not far off, and a bit further on, you hear a bark.

Oddly, you still sense the buzzing.

I eat in silence, with the dogs gone it almost felt as if Taylor and I were simply off on some camping trip and not in a strange alternate reality. As I finished the fish, picking around the bones, trying my best not to choke to death, I let myself fall backwards on to the ground. "Well... this is a strange situation we've gotten ourselves into isn't it?" I say, "Unless I'm in some kind of coma and this is all a dream." I hear barking not far away and turn my head towards the sounds before dismissing them, I was still tired from the run. As moments passed I again feel the strange buzzing that seemed to come with the telepathic link we shared with the dogs, I wonder if that will ever go away... I think to myself as put my fingers to my temples and close my eyes.

Taylor, you feel buzz...and then hear faintly in the static.....'wonder'....and more buzzing static....

It did not sound like a dog.

This insistent buzzing was maddening. I was hoping the dogs' departure would allow us a few cherished moments of peace and quiet while me and Zionn talked for once. I feel like the events have given us little time to actually talk to one another and come to terms with our situation.

"Zionn, do you think they are still listening to us?" I ask, wondering if he could also hear the buzzing. Then, before he could reply, I heard a single word, "wonder." For a second I wondered if it was a dog, but it didn't quite sound like that. I finished my fish begrudgingly and tossed it into the fire, then laid down.

"Did you hear that, Zionn? I heard a single word... 'wonder.'"

Seems like a moment for the GM to step back and let the players converse.

My head perked up before I decided to push myself back into a sitting position, "I don't know, they haven't..." I'm interrupted before I can finish my sentence as Taylor asks me another question, I frown slightly, "No, just buzzing, why? Is there something wrong? Maybe they can hit us with their telepathy from a distance or something."

Zionn the buzzing is worse, and then you hear in the midst of it, a word.....'buzzing', which does not sound like the mental voice of one of the Tribe.

I shake my head as I struggle for comfort. "It didn't sound like a dog. Maybe something or someone else is in the link?" My mind wondered to my home, thinking about my dogs. I wondered how they would be doing without me there. In fact, I wondered how my family in general would be dealing with my disappearance. I sure do miss my babies...

I get to my feet, "Hmm..." I mumble, then the buzzing gets worse, I put a hand to my ear reflexively even though it doesn't help. "Wait, you're right, that wasn't one of the dogs." I squint at our surroundings, the problem with mind talking is you can't hear where it's coming from. I squint to scan the surroundings but I was having trouble focusing, "Maybe we should ask the dogs how they deal with this." I pause before turning to shout at the surrounding woods "Anyone there?"
This message was last edited by the player at 02:00, Sat 02 July 2016.

Zionn the buzzing drops a bit.....sure....miss my.....a few words come  through.

You shout out into the woods, and a young dog, still gawky with adolescence, sticks its head out from behind a tree.

...You talking to me?....

Taylor, you hear an odd echo...Anyone there....followed by Zionn shouting the same thing, followed by a youngish voice of a dog which had been snoozing, and looks embarrassed to be caught out who asks if he is being talked too.

The echo of buzz followed by Zionn started to grow a new idea in my head. Could it be that me and Zionn were linked? The idea would not surprise me after all the things we had seen and heard.

The young formerly dozing dog was a bit of a surprise. The two different voices made it very clear he was not the original voice. Unless there was some other spectre dog about, it seemed as if Zionn was the source of the buzzing.

"No, no. You are fine. We thought we heard something, so my companion called out." I said uneasily to the dog, before turning and whispering to Zionn, "I think we may be hearing each other. When you spoke just now, it was like an echo. We should probably think on this further... literally."

(OOC: Sorry I've been posting sporadically. I've been cleaning and doing things with family in preparation for our camping trip upcoming throughout next week.)

Zionn, the buzzing seems to drop a bit more, and you hear.....literally....a quarter second before Taylor says it out loud.

OOC: Taylor, one of our few rules is RLTP: Real Life Takes Precedence.  No apology is needed.  We enjoy having you here, but your family is more important.

"What the hell?" I turn to look at Taylor, "Wait, why are we hearing each other? I thought it was the dogs that did all the telepathing." I turn back to the young dog giving him an apologetic smile, "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to wake you."

I take my seat again, pulling my legs beneath myself to sit cross-legged, and simply start to think, Testing, testing, testing.

In reply to Zionn (msg # 53):

Taylor, the buzz drops, and you hear, ....testing...and the buzz is gone.....testing, testing....

Both of you can speak mentally with each other.

OOC: "Hell" is profanity which we avoid here.