| Briar Wolf |

2-Cero

The big wild dog has gray fur, but she's much prettier than smoke and rain clouds.
- Cero

   Small hands held the rusting metal bowl shakily, just under the faucet of a public bathroom sink. He had to hurry; the caretakers would be mad if he took too long.

   The bowl was two-thirds full of lukewarm water when Cero finally turned off the faucet. Wide brown eyes peeked just above the bottom edge of the grimy mirror in front of him; he could see the stalls behind him were empty and mouldering. The boy blinked and strained to see the freckled tip of his nose in the mirror — failing but somehow still imagining he had grown at least an inch overnight.

   Once he grew tall enough to see his whole face, from the top of his honey-brown cowlick to the bottom of a petite chin, Cero promised himself he would free the big wild dog from her cage. Then, they would run deep into the forest — away from the men who beat both boys and dogs.

   But right now, he had to bring water back for the poor animals.

   The boy carefully shouldered open the bathroom exit, spilling a few drops of water onto the tops of his grimy oversized sneakers. The walk back to the dog place was long; Cero wanted to arrive before sunrise. The caretakers didn't like it when he was out too long, always complaining to themselves about something called CPS.

   The night was a dark, almost-black ash gray, the color of the big wild dog's inner ear fur and tail tip. Cero liked the color — it meant a storm was coming, and that meant the dog show would get cancelled for the night.

Maybe he could pet the big wild dog today.

Faint hope stirred in the boy's chest, fluttering like a moth around a lantern. He loved the big dog very much, even when she was covered in blood.

Especially when she was covered in blood.

Because that meant that the bad guys — the ones that changed every night and came with different cars and different dogs — wouldn't make money. But there were other bad guys too, the boy decided with utter certainty.

The other bad guys were the ones that stayed here and ran the dog shows. They let him pet the big wild dog, though. They even laughed and thought it was funny. Cero didn't see how it was funny.

She could rip everyone in this place to shreds if she wanted to. Cero almost wished she would, sometimes. He really couldn't understand why she didn't. Then again, Cero knew that adults, even big wild dog adults, did things all the time that confused him. This was only one of many.

Faint lights started to peek between the clawed and frilled silhouettes of oak and evergreen branches. He was almost to the dog place.

Another few droplets of water spilled over onto what Cero knew was a streaky dirt road covered in tires tracks and paw prints. Up ahead, no headlights illuminated the fenced rings where dogs were made to fight each other. The fights were almost certainly cancelled, then.

The boy's thoughts winked through his mind again like hurtling stars whose existence was never certain in the first place. Why didn't the big wild dog just tear her way out of this place? Why stay?

Cero stopped short of entering the clearing proper. Why did either of them stay?