“Hello!!!” Stella immediately yapped, her eyes lighting up with tiny brown sparks. “I’m Stella, and it’s nice to meet you!”
“Oh -- !” Micheala perked her ears and changed her expression to a sharper, larger smile. Hopefully not awkwardly. “Hi there! I’m Micheala – Stella’s best friend – and it’s n… uh, yeah…!”
Unblinking and obviously terrified by the sudden movements, the tiny pup retracted their head back behind the safety of the door. Only two big beady eyes shuddered in response, staring back out at Stella and Micheala’s clustered figures. She seemed… awfully scared, didn’t she? Micheala frowned and instinctively lowered herself to where the grass brushed her belly – to her, that seemed like the only natural way to convey ‘hey, I’m not gonna hurt you’.
The pup had an innocent look to her either way; with a soft, round face and large eyes, the tiny she-dog had herself pressed against the wall. An acute sense of fear was plastered all over her nimble face, and her short, stubby legs gave her the appearance of a science project gone wrong -- though with Micheala’s own inappropriate shortness, she felt she had no room really to talk.
“Um… h-hi,” the small pup peeped out finally, still sheltered behind the wood of the door. After a few prolonged seconds, she wedged herself a bit further into the outdoors and gave a small shake of her muzzle. “Where did… you guys come from…?”
Her tone was… hollow, in a way, Micheala noticed. As if she wasn’t fully a part of the ground beneath her paws or the sky looming above her head. Had she ever even seen daylight before? Micheala twitched her ear. “Oh! We’re – your neighbors, from—”
“—Neighbors from down the road!” Stella cut in, tail wagging like a tiny, golden thunderstorm. “We came to visit you, because we wanted to welcome you!”
“O-oh,” the she-dog fumbled nervously, her eyes darting up and down and around and anywhere that avoided eye contact. The only part of her – Micheala noticed – that looked even remotely threatening was her huge, spiked collar that hung about four sizes too big.
“You can come out,” Micheala reassured softly, seeing a familiar nervousness in the smaller one’s eyes. “We won’t hurt you, promise!”
The small she-dog’s eyes dilated. Her jaw was crooked, a few teeth splintering out from the edge and causing a slight droned slur to her words. “Um, o-okay!” she barked somewhat hesitantly, but pushed the door open nonetheless. Squeezing through easily (but still keeping one hind leg wedged between herself and the door), she stared at Stella and Micheala’s paws intently, as if staring long enough would shove words out of her mouth.
Then the Spaniel coughed sharply. “What’s your name?” Stella asked eagerly, tilting her head to the side.
“Oh…! Um—” As if rattling her brain for an answer to the hardest question in the world, the she-dog’s eyes became unfocused and watery. “I… um—”
However, any form of speech was cut short as the she-dog’s eyes widened with pure, unbridled terror. As she shot back into the house (and Stella shouted out a “hey, wait!”), tail curled between her legs, Micheala felt a confused mew catch helplessly in her throat. Where was she going? Did they scare her off? Bewildered and perplexed, she tossed a look towards Stella, who looked just as befuddled as she did herself.
“W… Why’d she run?” Stella said, her voice exasperated. “We just got her out of that house!”
“I… don’t know, I—”
But no sooner than Melanie had left, Micheala heard something all too familiar and dangerous – the rumbling of a rickety truck. “SHIT!” she gasped, doubling back to see the red pickup come crashing down the dirt road, wheels churning up chunks of dirt and old moss. “Stella – we have to go!”
“I – oh, hell.”
Parked with a jagged turn and twist, with a vicious slam of the door came stumbling out a familiar man. This time, in the close proximity he had gained, the tabby had clues to identify him by; he was young, much younger than the usuals around here (save for Jade), and he had rusty red hair held in place by a tight black hat. His dirtied tan skin looked rough around the edges, aged faster than the rest of him.
The fear Micheala felt then was unimaginable – a feeling that only skyrocketed when the man across from her thrusted wide hands into his pockets, grumbling and swearing unintelligibly. As he fished out a set of keys, slammed the door shut, and revved the truck back to life like some cruel monster, back from the dead and thirsty for blood, Micheala automatically rammed her head into Stella’s behind and shoved her forwards. “Go! We have to go!”
Micheala shot forwards, colliding headfirst with Stella’s tail in a successful attempt to get them both off and up on their paws. Before long they had both fled the crime scene, the tabby following speedily behind the Spaniel’s rapid golden blur. A cold chill ran down the center of her back as she perked her ears, the catch of a guttural yell reverberating within.
The two had stopped at the turn of the road – safe for now – with drooped heads and somber expressions. Slowly, Micheala came to a halt near a patch of bushes, which held onto the turn of the road with tiny, thorny claws. She gasped for air and looked dully at Stella.
“Oh my god,” was all Stella could manage, her words strained through clenched teeth and an exasperated tone. “That… oh – oh, shit!”
As Stella bolted, leaving a cloud of dust and hurried “RUN!” yelps in her steps, Micheala barely had her own time to turn, notice the red truck rumbling towards them at alarming speeds, tilting dangerously off the road with one window slid down too far – and then she ran like a bat out of hell.
Somehow, somewhere, Micheala couldn’t help but feel like she was cursed, for as soon as she managed to catch her breath, some other burden came tumbling down upon her shoulders like heavy rocks on loose earth. By nature, she had always been prone to worry and fear, but everything had only become more and more overwhelming since that day her mind set track on the forest. What was even up with the forest – why was she so afraid? With the ominous growl of the truck behind and the grumble of suddenly angry, distressed thoughts, she clenched her teeth and resisted the urge to cry out.
“Micheala, he’s right behind us!” Stella’s hiss sent the she-cat straight back to earth. Her wide blue eyes darted left and right and back until they finally focused in on the truck, choking on gravel as it came careening off the road and recklessly slamming towards them. “We have to run!”
A knot formed in Micheala’s throat as she tried to think think – think think think!!! She dodged to a side, tears ripping through the corners of her eyes as she tore chunks of grass and dirt up like thrown shreds of hay, tired and scared and her heart beating so fast she could barely breathe. She screamed something at Stella – something she couldn’t even hear through the beat beat beat of her own heart – and the two swerved magically, in unison, into the bushes and through the trees.
“Follow me!” Stella shouted, and the two crisscrossed through the knotted terrain of slumbering autumn trees and tangled, fiery bushes. Micheala’s eyes welled up with warm tears as she fought to keep back a scream, the thud and scream and shout of tires and people and anger and fear whirling in her head uncontrollably.
Through the clot of dust and dirt and pure, unbridled fear Micheala could hear the truck engine screaming in anguish, screeching and scuffing up dust as it decelerated and accelerated, a tracking device honed in on its target. But through the catastrophe of events, Micheala could spy the farm not so far away – illuminated by the sun and bright afternoon sky, looking like a lighthouse from beneath the ominous shelter of shady trees.
Crashing through the terrain, Micheala and Stella both bolted in reckless unison, tearing through the underbrush and squeezing underneath the fence. Even if not officially, technically safe, the small tabby felt relief at just being home, finally. “Oh my god,” was all she could manage, panting and shaking and now pushed into bushes near the bright red farmhouse, fairly visible yet still but pressed up against Stella’s sweaty golden fur. (And even if the Spaniel didn’t peep a word, she could see the panic raging behind brown eyes, the shaking of her bones, and the uncomfortable growl in her throat at the feeling of being closed in. She seemed… far away, all of a sudden. A bit like Melanie had.)
“If he gets out,” Stella hissed. “I’ll charge, and you stay behind.”
Micheala gulped, barely able to breathe between gasps of air and bristled fur. “N-no, Stella, I—”
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