Crossing the Silver Thorns

Chapter Ten (Part 2)

Alema opened his mouth only to be cut off once more by another wail from the oncoming train, closer this time. Its lights expanded from a distant glare that slid through the cracks to a burst of yellow that basked the entire lane, revealing the silhouette of a figure standing in the entryway.

    Alema felt a whine form in the back of his throat and shot a glance at Akila, who simply noted the shadow with a listless blink and returned to licking her pups' heads as the unknown being came into the light.

A spindly canine stumbled into the alley, a band of black material clutched in his jaws. He gawkily made his way towards Akila and dropped the material at her feet. "Look what I found Akila," he panted happily. His thin fawn fur, muddled with dirt and debris, was stuck to his sides. "I brought food."

    Akila examined the flexible material. "This isn't food, Kody," she told him, her voice patient. "This is rubber from a car's paw." She looked up at him, and calmly asked, "Did you eat it?"

    The dog pulled his ears down. "No." His long muzzle quivered.

    "Kody," Akila said, her tone more strict.

    Kody lowered his head with a low whine. His pathetic brown eyes grew wet and his thin, curled tail tucked between his legs. "Yes. But only a little bit, I promise! I was curious, that's all."

    Alema carefully examined the newcomer. Everything about him was lean and quirky. The dog looked as if he could be pushed down by a gust of wind as he wobbled on his tall legs. His skull, too, was abnormally long in comparison to its breadth, a pair of floppy ears hanging from the sides.

Akila sighed, closing her eyes. "Doesn't Bandile feed you?"

Kody glanced to the side. "Yes," he whined. "But lately less and less. Just a few scraps of bread every once in awhile." The canine finally lifted his head and peered at Alema, who had timidly approached them. "You're new," he noted.

Alema pulled away as the dog began to sniff around his withers.

"I've never seen a canine like you before," he said, echoing Alema's thoughts. "And to think I've seen dogs of every shape and size around here. You prove me wrong."

"This is my good friend Kody," Akila told Alema. "And Kody, this is Alema. He is not from the city."

"I didn't know dogs even lived outside of the city," Kody commented.

"I believe he is a wild dog, Kody," Akila explained. "They are different from city dogs."

Kody pricked his ears. "Does he talk?"

"Of course I do," Alema responded, stepping back. His hackles rested as he regained personal space.

"He is looking for his family," Akila told the dog. She looked up at Alema with sympathetic eyes. "Humans took them."

Kody's eyes widened. "That's awful," he gawked. He looked at the mother-dog. "They have bad hearts, right Akila?"

Akila dipped her head. "Very good Kody. Bad-hearted humans indeed."

    The dog perked up, raising his ears and tail in pride.

"Humans?" Alema blinked in confusion.

"I believe non-city animals call them upwalkers," Akila explained. She bent down and licked one of her pups' heads. "I am afraid that there is quite a difference between city and wild terms. I am sure you will learn them all in time."

Alema's paws shuffled. In time? He didn't plan on staying long enough to learn these tedious matters. Alema's heart lurched. He didn't have a plan at all. The world seemed to sway on his paws as a buzz of thoughts wrapped around his mind. What was his next step? How far did the city stretch? There was no hope, no chance. His family was somewhere, probably scared senseless, and he was here, stumped. Dumb and naive, like always.