Chapter Eleven (Part 1)

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The morbid roar of Tramplers rung in Alema's ears as he padded beside Kody, the ground beneath his paws hard and unwelcoming

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The morbid roar of Tramplers rung in Alema's ears as he padded beside Kody, the ground beneath his paws hard and unwelcoming. The towering buildings cast dusk shadows on the ground. The moon clashed against one side of the sky, facing the setting sun as the two warring orbs met at equal diameter. A group of humans leaned against the side of one building, legs crossed and shaking fingers delicately folding around a rolled piece of paper with a fiery tip, smoke billowing out from their nostrils. One removed the roll from his mouth and shook the tip, flakes of gray debris fluttering to the ground. The vile scent of rotten breath rested in the back of Alema's throat.

One of the men looked up and peered at the two animals, a crooked smile forming. The man nudged a fellow smoke-breather and pointed. Systematically, the three humans hurled their fire-tipped paper rolls at Alema and Kody.

Alema squeaked as one of the filthy tips landed on his paw, scorching his fur. He violently shook the tip off with a whine and the group erupted in a round of amused caterwauls. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Kody shriveling.

"I wish Bandile was with us," the city-dog whined. "It's less scary with him around." A moment passed before the canine pricked his ears. "I think we're almost there." He picked up his pace and slipped into an alley.

    Alema kept close to the walls, letting his flank brush against the side of the monstrous structures that blanketed the passageways in darkness. Bulbs of light flickered just enough to reveal a decrepit building, the shadows of the sky-reaching dens graciously hiding its miserable appearance from the typical passerby. Alema blinked furiously, his eyes dry from the stale air. Strips of the plastered walls had begun to peel, drooping towards the ground as if they had simply given up on holding the place together.

"Here," Kody declared, picking up his head to face the building much to Alema's dismay. "It's in the warehouse."

Alema pulled his ears back as he pattered closer to the "warehouse", each pawstep trembling over the last. One stench reigned supreme above the various whiffs of rust and heated metal: fear scent. He heard Kody swallow and noticed a spark of fear in his guide's eyes, but the dog nonetheless descended down a tier of steps that adjoined the repository, mumbling self-reassuring comments under his breath.

Alema leerily followed the canine, choosily placing one paw in front of another as he traveled down the terraced slope. The unexplored doesn't need to be frightening, he tried to remind himself, but doubt overthrew the thought. He questioned if this were the type of place to host an array of miraculous colors within its wasted walls.

A box, formed from exhausted wood, rested against the dead end that the two dogs met at the bottom of the stairs. A slop bin was positioned between two corners of the cinder-block impasse, its smell distracting Alema from the apprehensive odor that emerged from the building. Suddenly the waste bucket didn't appear so distasteful, and Alema longed for a bite of food—any food.

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