The Four Hounds of Abyssmare

The Four Hounds of Abyssmare

"See, girls? Isn't this just the life?" The silver poodle stretched and growled happily as the groomer ran her nails through poofy, fluffy fur.

"No," the Gończy Polski beside her growled. The threat of a muzzle too short for her nose was the only thing that kept her from actually snapping at anyone, although she certainly didn't enjoy being poked and prodded by a gaggle of strangers!

"Oh, Weronika," Elsie sighed disapprovingly. "Your mangy, manky coat certainly could use the attention, you mongrel mutt!"

"Hey! I look more rugged this way!" Weronika snapped back. "If anyone's got the mangy face, it's you! You look like a matted rug!"

Elsie yapped in indignation, but nothing could change Weronika's mind. Humans made no sense. That much, nothing could change her mind on either. From what little she understood of them, in humans' eyes, poodles were symbols of beauty, wealth, and sophistication. Weronika didn't see any of that when she looked at Elsie. The thought alone made her want to snort with laughter!

Bet she doesn't even like baths either! She just likes the attention! Weronika thought, eyeing the other dog disdainfully as she continued to tilt her head this way and that, leg occasionally trembling with glee as the groomer continued to give her what was essentially a full-body massage.

I'm not the only one who doesn't like it! Weronika thought, eyes darting over to one of the other two dogs in the room. The first was a Chinese Crested, and if there was any dog among them who was truly, indisputably ugly, it was her, Sophia. She looked even worse as she was bathed and combed down, her ratty fur becoming even rattier as she trembled in terror.

How do you get DIRTIER while you get clean? Weronika shot the puny, pathetic pup a toothy sneer. It was the one thing she and the pompous, pampered poodle could agree on. Sophia was pathetic. How someone like her was allowed into their pack was beyond them, but...

The fourth and final, but certainly not the least, of the pack was a gorgeous, breathtaking, stunning golden retriever called Neo. But contrary to her breed's reputation, she was the opposite of warm, social, and friendly. She invited Sophia to the pack purely because of how... devoted and loyal Sophia was to her. Elsie was someone closer in status, and Weronika was her rival.

They were a strange quartet to be sure, but Neo was the strangest to them all. While Weronika, and Elsie, and Sophia moved this way and that, whether out of fear, pleasure, or annoyance, Neo was as still and silent as a statue. Her face, and even her scent, were unreadable. But for Neo, this was normal. All she cared about was getting cleaned up, then going home.

ooo

"Nah, man, see? This is why we gotta get back to our roots!" Weronika growled, shaking her fur once they were finally free of the awful, evil groomer. Four black suits accompanied the four hounds of Abyssmare, walking them on slack leashes through the city. "We're not supposed to be just hounds. We're supposed to be wolves!" Right before Weronika could tilt her head back and let rip a gnarly howl, Elsie headbutted her muzzle.

"Don't be stupid, Were-onika! Just because you fancy the idea of being a werewolf does not make the idea any less fanciful!"

Privately, thouhg, Elsie agreed. She wished they could've been real wolves rather than... wannabe wolves. The thought alone made her cringe and shudder, but she could not deny that the four hounds of Abyssmare were only that. Hounds. If they were wolves, they could've commanded all the power they so desired. Elsie could understand Weronika's frustrations in that regard. Often times, she too fantasized about all the blood she could've shed if her teeth and claws were just a little sharper, stronger, and longer. But even though Elsie also dreamed of being a real wolf, her dreams were different from Weronika's.