Poor Little Television
The sound of arguing is like music to Mercedes ears as she scrounges through the pile of scraps that the house dogs had brought, a smile on her muzzle. Although her vision is failing her, her nose sure as hell isn’t. A wave of aromas wash over her senses, and for the most part smell pretty appetizing. What doesn’t smell appetizing is the rotting kibble that Scout had brought, making Mercedes internally roll her eyes. At least Sasha had a damn brain and knew what to bring, and what not to bring.
The Bernese mountain dog had a peculiar taste according to Scout; which meant that she didn’t like eating goddamn garbage. Mercedes liked to call that a set of standards… But knowing Scout came from the wild, she could only assume his mentality came from taking whatever he could. The wilds sounded like a tough place; tougher than living on the streets alone avoiding dog catchers and judgemental whispers.
Even when those whispers only grew worse due to the damn wolf she was harboring for Zella and Mamba. The separated twins had quite the way with words, and Mamba had a sickly sweet voice that lured anyone into doing her bidding… Annoyingly enough. Mercedes typically knew better than to trust the maimed wolf-dog’s tone of voice, but couldn’t deny their request when Zella outright threatened her before shoving the pathetic lump of mangled fur at her.
Mercedes would grow to know this wolf as Skull, a large canine that smelled fucking horrific and had some sort of vendetta against making Mercedes life easier. The male insisted on making an escape back to the wilds, which Mercedes denied with the warning that Zella would have both their heads. For now, they’re stuck like this.
“Oooh, this is a whole feast! Just for us?” Speak of the Devil and he will come. Mercedes doesn’t conceal the groan that rumbles in her chest as she takes another sniff and ultimately decides to grab onto the box that smells the most like one of those microwave turkey dinners. Once the cardboard is in her mouth, she turns her head hard in Skull’s direction— smacking the box directly into his stupid head.
“Shit, ow!” Skull barks, and Mercedes is allowed the pleasure of watching the male rub at his muzzle with a sour look on his face. “Could’a just said no, instead of hitting me. No need to resort to violence…” The big idiot grumbles in a way that makes Mercedes huff.
“Tawe th’dawm box ‘fore I hit yew again.” Mercedes replies, voice muffled by the object in her jaws. There’s a beat of silence that passes between the pair, and she’s worried that she’ll have to repeat herself before the wolf finally takes the damn box from her. It’s only when she hears his pawsteps heading toward the wagon that she makes him drag along for their haul that she provides a proper explanation for his compliance.
“No, it isn’t just for us— we’re picking some food, and leaving more food for others. Sash and Scout over there,” Mercedes gestures vaguely toward where she can see the blurry pair, still bickering. “Were kind enough to sneak it in for us, from their people.”
There’s a sound of acknowledgment that arises from the wolf ( who’s learned that he shouldn’t nod around Mercedes ). Followed by this is the sound of the box hitting the wagon with a soft thwump, and then his nails clicking against the concrete of the warehouse floor as he returns to Mercedes’ side. “So… Kind of like how a pack hunts for each other?” Skull questions, voice now right beside her again.
Mercedes nods her head in confirmation to Skull’s question, although she doesn’t really know anything about a wild wolf pack’s dynamic. Not aside from what Biscuit taught everyone, anyways.
“Yeah, somethin’ like that, I guess. Just don’t let Biscuit hear you talkin’ ‘bout the wilds so highly.” Mercedes informs, bumping her nose into a familiar foil wrapper where the scent of hamburger and grease resides. The dog doesn’t hesitate to take the food into her mouth, nearly salivating over the idea of her future meal. Burgers were her favorite, in spite of being common.
“Biscuit?” Skull questions as Mercedes turns and begins walking. The dog can hear shuffling, and then Skull’s trodding after her. Hopefully he grabbed something useful for the two of them. Nodding her head once again, Mercedes drops the burger so she can speak freely again.
“Only the city’s biggest hard ass you’ll ever meet!” Scout barks suddenly, his voice close enough that Mercedes nearly jumps from her thick pelt. The dog turns to cast her companion a glare, hackles raised with alarm. Mercedes can’t really make out Scout’s grin, but she can tell that he’s amused by the snickers he lets out. Jackass.
“Now don’t go talking about your Mom that way, Scout,” Sasha chides— but she’s more distant from the tan dog now beside Mercedes and Skull. From the scent and sound, she’s slowly coming closer. “Biscuit does what she can for everyone around here… She’s just a bit high-strung about it. She’s a pretty big softy when you get to know her.”
A huff leaves Skull; judgmental. “… She sounds a lot like someone I know.” And Mercedes hates to admit it, but now she’s curious about the wolf’s words. He didn’t speak about anything involving the life he was trying to get back to. It was only natural for the Bernese Mountain Dog to harbor some interest in what her new (unwanted) roommate was working towards. But she doesn’t inquire.
“Well… I can love my mama, and respect her— while acknowledging her flaws.” Scout states. “Like the fact that she’s a major hard ass. Just like Sasha kisses up to everyone that she knows because she’s too nice for her own good.” As the tan dog moves away from the three and toward the crate, to what Mercedes can only assume is help speed along the hauling process, Sasha gives an offended bark. “Oh, I do not!”
“It’s okay to admit that you’re a people pleaser, Sasha.” Scout taunts, his voice lighthearted and playful. “Just like it would be okay for Mercedes to admit—” Mercedes cuts her friend off before he can piss her off. “How about you help us so you two can continue arguing like an old married couple before you come home to your mates? I’m sure Collie and the human pup miss you, Scout.”
Scout grunts in a silent reply, and Mercedes can’t help lamenting on how annoying men can be. But speaking of men— Skull is peculiarly silent beside her. Mercedes can scent discomfort in the air, although it’s particularly strong and causes her to feel uncertain on who it’s coming from.
“You know she wasn’t always like that, Scout.” Sasha breaks the sudden silence, her voice sympathetic. Mercedes can hear the jingle of Sasha’s collar as she shifts her head, and feels her amber gaze burn onto her.
“Well, I sure didn’t know her before then.” Mercedes chimes, and that much is true. Biscuit is double her age, a former police dog that ran off with some wolf before coming back nearly two years later. Mercedes heard the older strays talk about how Biscuit came back all beaten and bruised, Scout trailing behind her. Rumor went around quickly when Mercedes was a street pup, about how Biscuit was nearly killed in her escape.
Rumors about how Biscuit had been wounded, malnourished spread like wildfire. She was smaller than what she used to be, meeker than what she once was. Biscuit became reserved, sad. Many thought that she was pathetic. But then she worked her way to the top of the invisible rankings that had been laid out within the city over the years of Mercedes youth.
And because of that strength, that determination to make her name known and respected, it became hard for Mercedes to imagine any of the rumors had much truth in them. From what Mercedes knows of the Biscuit they all have now, she is reserved— but not cold or unkind.
“I know.” Scout mumbles, his voice a bit gentler than before as he returns with what sounds to be a plastic bag. “That wolf attack did somethin’ to her. Think it did somethin’ to all of us.”
“Well, no shit,” Mercedes retorts with a snort. “From what I remember of your ugly mug, you look like someone wanted to have you for a KFC dinner.”
“Mercedes!” Sasha barks, fully horrified by the younger dog’s words. But Scout laughs, and Mercedes can envision the way that the male rolls his eyes and grins before bumping his non-prosthetic paw hard into her shoulder. She grins back at him.
“Yeah, well, at least my eyes still work.” Scout retorts, to Sasha’s horror. “Scout!” The greyhound exclaims, distress in her voice. Scout and Mercedes only snicker in return, not offended by the others’ joking. It made coping with their losses a little easier.
“... Wolf attack?” Skull questions suddenly, causing the air to shift. Mercedes nods before waving a dismissive paw. It isn’t her place to talk about it, considering she was barely walking when it happened.
“Yeah, something Scout went through.” The she-dog replies, earning a huff from Scout. The tan dog decides to take it upon himself to tell his story, since Mercedes won’t. “Yeah, so there was this big bastard roaming around here… You both were probably pups when it all went down,” Scout begins as Mercedes catches the sound of bags and boxes shuffling. Sasha must be organizing the wagon.
“Big blue-grey wolf. He was wreaking havoc on the neighborhoods around here, targeting whatever he could get his filthy jaws on—” Sudden aggression floods Scout’s voice in the form of a growl. “—M’pups were playin’ hide and seek one day when one of them went too far into th’woods. M’human pup’s littermate went lookin’ for him, and came runnin’ back hollerin’ his damn head off. Wolf came charging up behind him, and Nathan… Well, Nathan tried t’defend his littermate.”
There’s a pause, the weight of the story growing increasingly heavy. Mercedes doesn’t know how Scout can speak about it so calmly, as if it didn’t happen to him.
“I was chained up when it was all happenin’. Got out m’chain and came in t’defend Nathan and his littermate, Jacob. Knew it was too late for m’boy. We got into a real bad spat til’ Nathan’s Pa finally heard the commotion and came out with a gun. Wolf went running, but my Mama wasn’t happy with that. Gathered up a bunch of dogs while me an’Nathan was at the vet, went and hunted him down the way he hunted us down.”
There’s a lofty silence that sits appropriately in the air as the weight of Scout’s words are absorbed. But then Scout clears his throat, a goofy smile coming back to his features. “S’all worked out in the end, the big bad wolf was killed by tha humans and my Ma found some abandoned pups t’take in… Sky and Anthea. They’re good pups.” Affection floods Scout’s voice as he adds on,
“And Miss Sasha here had her own litter of pups! Happened t’be the day that we took the ol’ bastard out and the twins in,” Scout states the words with pride. Mercedes can make out his and Sasha’s blurry forms, with Scout leaning against the greyhound in an affectionate way. Sasha huffs, but doesn’t say anything. “They’re good pups, too. Sasha even found ‘em two dads— can you imagine that? Having two pops? I can’t.”
“Not… Really, naw.” Skull rumbles from beside Mercedes. His voice is soft, subdued. It’s a little alarming to her. “My old man was… Ah. Pretty awful.”
An acknowledging hum can be heard from Scout. “S’understand.” Scout informs Skull. “M’pops was no good, either. Hope he’s rottin’.” There’s another pause, this time a bit more awkward than before. It also makes Mercedes realize that the air smells much more strongly of discomfort… But she can’t tell who it’s coming from.
“You know, one of Sash’s mates… His name is Fade. He’s this big white and grey wolf, looks a bit like you. Lot more quiet, though,” Scout rumbles, and the scent grows stronger than before. Mercedes can’t help scrunching her nose, wondering if she’s the only one who’s taken notice of this. “Maybe Mercedes can introduce th’two of you, some time. He ain’t much a people person, but it ain’t ever hurt t’get him outta his shell. Right, Sasha?”
“Hm?” Sasha chimes, sounding dazed and distant from reality. “...Um, yeah. Sure.” The greyhound clears her throat before the sound of tags shifting reaches Mercedes ears. Sasha must be lifting her paw to rub her chest, causing the jingling. Something that she only did when nervous. Okay, so that solves the mystery of the scent— but why is Sasha, of all dogs, nervous?
The dog doesn’t know how to inquire this question without being seen as intrusive. At least, not with the boys around. Fortunately for Mercedes, she has always chosen horribly talkative animals to have in her life. “Hey, I’m not feeling so well,” Sasha confesses softly. “How about you two boys finish packing up, so we can head home?”
Everyone seems satisfied with this suggestion, because Scout gives a confirmative bark. “Whatever you want, your Highness. C’mon, Skull, better get movin’ ‘fore the ladies here get on our tails.” Mercedes can sense the apprehension rolling off of Skull in waves from beside her. So she gives a brush of her paw against his, her voice light.
“Scout doesn’t bite. You’ll be fine.” Mercedes assures Skull. A snicker comes from Scout who just has to make sure that Mercedes sounds like an idiot. “Mostly.” And with these words supplied, Skull seems at least semi-confident in following after the rough older dog. It causes the near blind dog to turn her sights toward Sasha, her worry for the greyhound putting a heavy weight on her shoulders.
“So… How are your pups?” It’s a good conversation starter for Sasha, Mercedes thinks. Comet, Cadet and Xena were Sasha’s pride and joy— her favorite thing to gloat about. Sasha’s affection for her children often felt like a punch to Mercedes’ gut. Mercedes’ mother could never fathom thinking the world of her litter, of not tearing them down and insisting they would be nothing without her. Sasha would go on about how bright their futures were, how good they were doing with everything in their lives…
Once, Mercedes had even witnessed Cadet complain about his mother ‘ babying ‘ him when she gushed about her pride in him. It took everything in her person to bite her tongue and not lash into the stupid male. The memory of her jealousy leaves a bitter taste that’s hard to shake.
“They’re well.” Sasha replies flatly, and Mercedes feels worry gnaw at her like hunger, or a stray dog on a bone. Something is definitely wrong. “Cadet is… Still looking for a home, but I don’t mind having him around still. Comet’s settling nicely into hers, even said that she starts her training today.” A smile tugs up Mercedes muzzle, despite her own craving for a set of humans and a roof over her head. At least someone was having a good time today.
“And Xena?” Mercedes questions. There’s a pause, and Mercedes can’t help but think that she just asked a terrible question, because Sasha’s voice re-emerges, soft and sad.
“We still don’t know where she is.” The greyhound confesses, “Biscuit’s been leading everyone that she can think of in and out of the city limits, but… Nothing. There’s no scent, or trail— it’s just like she got up and walked away from everything one night.”
Mercedes offers a pitiful nod of her head, not sure how to comfort the tan she-dog beside her. “I’m really sorry to hear that, Sash. I am.” The only sound that accompanies the four canines in the abandoned building is the sound of the boys moving the boxes. “I’m… I’m sure she’ll turn up soon, and I’ll do whatever I can to help find her.” The dog supplies, hoping to revitalize some of Sasha’s former demeanor.
“I appreciate that, Mercedes.” Sasha mumbles, causing Bernard to grimace. An uncomfortable silence settles between them before Mercedes reluctantly bites the bullet. Better now than never.
“You seem nervous,” Mercedes rumbles out. “Are you alright? Aside from everything with the kid, of course.” She can’t help but add, trying her damnedest to get the straightest answer out of the greyhound that she can. Sasha can be slippery with her words, after all.
“I’m fine.” Sasha replies, her voice a little too curt and sharp for Mercedes liking. “...Thank you for worrying about me, Merc, but really… I’m just… Stressed. I just want my daughter to come home.” Sasha may be good with words, but she’s also not a good liar. Not in Mercedes’ mind, anyway. Maybe friendship just makes you more vulnerable, like that. Either way, Sasha’s tone suggests that dropping the subject will be the best case scenario here. So Mercedes agrees.
“Alright. … I’m sure she’ll find her way back home. She’s tough like that.” Mercedes affirms, an agreeing nod coming from Sasha. And once again, an uncomfortable silence settles between the pair. The air is stiff and thick with negativity, causing Mercedes to turn her head. While she can’t make out what the two boys nearby are doing, or their progress, she’s certain that they’ll be done soon.
It’s only a few minutes after the silence settles into something more amicable that Scout and Skull make their return. Mercedes can’t help standing to her paws quickly, returning to Skull’s side. “You two are finished?”
“We are,” Scout confirms with a playful snort. She can envision the dog looking toward Skull sympathetically. “Have fun with th’wagon, she’s going t’make you carry it all the way back.” Mercedes muzzle tugs upward, knowing that Scout is fully correct. Skull seems to take this warning as the perfect time to crack a joke and ( partially ) gloat.
“Oh, I’m not worried. With muscles like mine, it should be a piece of elk.” Mercedes rolls her eyes at Skull, visibly— before turning and beginning to pad away wordlessly. She can hear the wagon wheels turning, and then Skull’s nails clicking against the floor.
“See y’soon, then, Merc!” Scout calls after the dog. She gives a bark in reply, knowing that he won’t take her curt departure to heart… Although she worries that Sasha might. Mercedes is happy to feel fresh air greet her pelt and senses upon exiting the warehouse with Skull in tow. The birds are singing and the morning sun is shining down, offering warmth to the cold that continues to be brought in by the early spring season.
“That friend of yours…” Skull begins when they’re away from earshot. Mercedes nods her head a little, to show the male that she’s listening to him. “She’s hiding something, isn’t she?”
“Sure.” Mercedes agrees, secretly appreciative of not being the only one who’s noticed this detail. “But we’re all hiding something, at the end of the day. Best to leave her alone.”