It was dawn when we first got here, and in the blink of an eye, the sky turned a dark black.
It's unbelievable how quick time flew by; like the seabirds that pass by every now and then. Just when you notice them, they're gone.
It wasn't as boring as days back at the ship, but after a while, watching humans talk about complicated matters no longer amused me. I picked up a few terms listening to them though, like dollars, miles and other things, so I supposed it wasn't all that bad.
I wouldn't have wasted my time listening to them if only I had Willy to talk to. If only I had. However, he was taken to another place too far for us to be able to communicate without causing a problem. A lot of other dogs in cages separated us, but I could see him. I thought I could almost scent him, actually. From what I saw, he wasn't doing better than I am. Another cage was stacked on top of his. Even that late at night, I could hear him practically pleading with the dog above him to hold it just a bit longer.
The sea breeze smelled of brine and sand, taking me back to long walks with my mother, strolling along the rocky ground bordering the coast. My mother told me about how the volcano towering just by the shore erupted many seasons ago. Hot lava poured down the sides of the volcano, cooling down as it touched the icy water. It turned into the rocks we stepped on now.
The rocks were warm. They were as dark as night, and the water coating them made them glitter even on a new moon. They felt good underfoot; not hard and rough like other kinds of rock. These rocks were slippery and flat. Walking on them always helped put my mind at ease. Then one day after a long walk by the coast, I felt different somehow.
It felt like I could feel the earth spinning under my paws and every single piece of prey hiding in their nests. I could feel the ground vibrate as my mother would pad towards me to show me how to hunt. And every time my mother and I went to hunt, I would always get distracted by any slight movement, like a leaf falling off a tree overhead or the hoot of an owl nearby. I found a way to block it, focusing on what was happening here and now. I think I’m getting better at it with each day that passes. However, it was still rather hard to focus on the pine marten I was chasing when there’s so much happening around me. It took a lot of effort especially to keep myself steady here in this place, where there were lots of weird sounds and sights.
I’ve gotten good enough to control myself when I’m speaking to someone or when I give chase to prey. I’d be so good at hunting by now.
I looked to the sky. The full moon and stars were covered by thick, dark clouds. I wonder if I’ll ever get to hunt again. With this thought in mind, I was drifted into a dreamless sleep.
I opened my eyes to a dull gray morning. Seabirds called to each other over the blue waves that rolled towards the coast.
Looking more closely at the sky, I saw that large, dark clouds had begun massing overhead, foretelling the appearance of a storm of some sort. I silently hoped that the humans would take us to another place, another place where we’d have shelter from either blinding snow or torrents of rain.
I sighed, irritated at the situation we were in.
A clattering noise to my left startled me. Willy’s cage had been dropped roughly beside me. He hit his muzzle on the side of the cage.
“Ow,” whimpered Willy, shaking his head.
“Willy!” The sight of his night-dark tail and bright eyes made me cheer up. “Thank the stars!”
“Thank the stars, indeed,” he murmured darkly, looking exasperatedly back at the human who carried him here. The human kept on walking away from them, heading instead to a group of men huddled together.
“It was so boring here!” I exclaimed, truly relieved at having him for company again after a long, boring night. “I’m so glad you’re back!”
“So am I.” He paused and looked at me seriously. “More than you can ever know.”
“I understand.” I bowed my head. He must have been scared to wakefulness the whole night, convincing the dog above not to make dirt on top of him. I shivered at the thought.
I changed the topic abruptly. “So, how come they haven’t released us yet?” I tilted my head inquisitively.
“Not sure.” Willy scratched at his ear, pensively thinking over the matter. “I’m confused too. I really thought they’d release us yesterday, but since we’re still in here, I’m not sure.” He looked around silently, without a word.
I found myself looking out at all the other dogs in cages. They were beginning to stir from their sleep, yawning and stretching in the small, cramped spaces they were kept in. I found myself yawning and stretching too for some reason. This is definitely boring. I’m hungry, too.
Realization hit me like a snow clump falling from a pine tree. The last time we’d been fed was back at the ship. I and all the other dogs hadn’t eaten for a day. When I realized this, my belly started aching with hunger. We’d need food soon.
I turned my head back to Willy. He was staring dazedly at something. I swiveled my head in the direction he was looking at, and saw a human carrying something, and going from cage to cage. It was scooping something from inside it and placing it inside the cages. The dogs consumed whatever it was ferociously.
It stopped in front of Willy’s cage and dropped in some brown stuff onto a shiny rock on the side of his cage. He did the same to mine. The brown stuff smelled weird; not unpleasant, but weird nonetheless.
I looked at Willy, who was looking back at me with a baffled expression. We were both hesitant to eat whatever it was. It didn’t look like prey caught from the forest, or game from the tundra.
Willy took a reluctant lick at the stuff. His eyes widened. “It’s fine,” he assured me.
He continued to eat the brown pebbles. It seemed like he really was fine with it, making no effort to stop the noises coming out of his throat as he ate.
I looked again at what I had to eat. They really looked like pebbles. Salmon I could take, but this… I took a bite of it, and found that the stuff tasted like it smelled. It was somewhat bland, but I could pick a hint of some kind of bird in there. Definitely nothing I’ve tasted before.
I crunched on them with vigor, feeling hungry enough to eat most anything. It didn’t take long for me to finish off the small serving. After the meal, I felt satisfied. The pebbles were oddly filling.
Willy and most of the other dogs were done as well, licking their chops. Willy looked much happier, with his tongue lolling out the side of his muzzle. Now that he had a filled stomach, his tail was wagging and his eyes were full of life.
“That’s much better,” he sighed contentedly.
“It made me thirsty, though.” I looked around for some water in my cage. None. I began swallowing to relieve my dry throat. “I hope they bring some soon.”
“Yeah.” Willy smacked his jaws. “Let’s look out. That person will probably return with water this time.”
“Okay.” I started looking, determined to find some sign that a human was close by with water. A mumbling sound sparked my attention suddenly. It was barely audible over the din of the surroundings. “Fifty-six, fifty-seven…” It was counting.
I tried to find out where the sound was coming from, trying to look for commotion anywhere. While listening, I realized with a jolt that the sound was getting clearer and clearer. Now I could hear two sets of footsteps, denoting that he wasn’t alone. I was staring into some cages while I listened. The next moment, my sight abruptly zoomed in on the human. I was startled with the sudden change in perspective. It was as if I were standing right in front of him. The human pointed towards each cage and his companion made marks on something he held in his hand. They wore pelts with the colors of moss and ground.
I was snapped back hard into reality when I lost my balance and hit the bottom of the cage, bruising my side and hind leg. It elicited me to yelp sharply. I looked around, winded and eyes blurry from the impact. A human was carrying our cages, one in each long paw. It began walking towards a line of cages. We’re going to be counted too, I suppose.
“Pana!” Willy bayed loudly from his cage, slightly wobbly due to the shaking, swaying motion the cage was making while it was lifted. “You zoned out! I was warning you but you didn’t hear me, apparently!”
“What?!” I stridently yelped, truly confused.
The human dropped us at the end of a line of cages. We’re going to be counted too!
I swallowed, a sick feeling rising up my throat. I zoned out? I was sitting, muzzle open in shock. I was just listening! What happened?