A little boy, no younger than eight, was playing together with his little sister on their bedroom floor, a mystic place laden with mythical creatures, awesome monsters, swashbuckling adventurers, fair maidens and glorious legends. So long they were on their knees and with their dolls, action figures, plastic castles and other figurines, no troubles could ever worry the two; the stories would become ever more astonishing should mom or poppa join their quest, they never seemed to be too tired to chime in and take part in the adventure. As the months passed, both of them were less and less involved, coming home more and more tired, sad, angry even. It was hard trying to play and keep focus when there was a fight somewhere in the kitchen or in the living room, mom's voice always instilled fear in his and her sister's hearts. Poppa, whom had funny smell in his mouth as of late, kept insisting the Miles had to grow up soon and become the protector of the family and how times would turn dark and dangerous, much like the beginning of every quest; the pup had no idea what ever he meant through those speeches, but mom always cried afterwards and, no matter how big the fight had been earlier, they always made up. Other days, the old man insisted that humans are evil by nature and he should think twice before trusting any of their kind and that all of their smiles and good manners were nothing but charade.
"But daaad, I like humies! I want to be like them! My tail gets in the way a lot and my ears are tickly all the time and-"
His father couldn't take it anymore of that and struck the child's muzzle with the back of his palm.
"Don't you ever say that as long as I live, you hear me? You'd better be proud of who you are or they will stomp and kick you like an ordinary dog. You are not an ordinary dog!" He yelled, keeping Miles' snout close to his own by grabbing him by his collar. Stinking spittle went everywhere in the fur of his face, merging with the pooling tears of pain.
He couldn't possibly understand any of it. Not until the night he and his sister were startled by the thundering, chopping sound of multiple rotor blades closing in to their district. Soon, searchlights pierced through the curtains and lit up the room with a blinding white light, his sister promptly started to tremble and cry. There was a large racket all around, his mother running all over the place, a strange, distorted voice booming from outside, the wails of his sister; the next thing he knew, his father crashed in the room with a rifle in his left hand and a black vest over his flannel. He knelt beside the two children and clumsily embraced them before he turned his attention to Miles.
"Today is the day you need to grow up and start taking care of the girls for me, Miles. I'm sorry your childhood has to end this early, but if I could, I'd take you all away from the trouble out there."
"-dents are to evacuate their households immediately, lethal force has been authorized if you do not comply. This is the CPD acting under order thirteen-seven, all anthro residents are to evacuate their households immediately,-"
"D-dad, what's going on?" Miles asked, his voice shaking, his sister echoed his question.
"Humans. They've learned to hate us and treat us like animals, because we tried to be like them. Do not forget this day, for today they've showed their true face. Remember their face."
And he was off, his sister clung to his leg as he tried to leave, which he shoved off effortlessly and was never to be seen again. Mother quickly gathered whatever she could find of value in their house and grabbed the children to get out and face the true human nature. Miles swallowed a knot as he was looked straight in the eyes by a large frame of a person clad in padded kevlar armor, clutching an automatic rifle.
"It's the Longtails." The man uttered, looking straight down at Miles. "Put'em in."
He and Mel got separated from mom, screams of pain and fear were the only things he could remember from that night. Miles screamed with frustration too, knowing that he already failed his father; that and, he hated the fact that he was right. Mister Burke was the one who separated him and Mel from mom and poppa. Mr Burke is Joel's father, Joel was his best friend and only Joel knew where they were living.
There was a rhythmic clacking noise coming from a cramped, but still comfortable cubicle next to the corner of the giant, mostly empty room, as Miles kept flipping the black carabiner in his right palm. He was staring down at the framed photo of himself graduating the K-9 academy, where his academic cap sat at a certain angle on his head to allow his left year to point upwards; he held the diploma with a subtle disgust, yet, he had a smile on his muzzle as he looked straight at the camera lens. There was a shorter, nicely dressed and fairly pretty German Shepherd looping her arm through his own, brandishing a wide, toothy grin. It was a strange sight, seeing the snotty pup that kept stepping on her own dolls and fart loudly turning into a young, desirable lady; he was proud of her, in some aspects, but he was constantly plagued with worry and anxiety over her well being.
"Cut the racket, Buck, the officer's 'bout to come." Said a bloodhound over the cubicle wall, his ears and droopy skin flopping as he talked.
"Gotcha, boss." Miles muttered under his breath as he placed the carabiner on his desk.
He made sure his uniform was in pristine condition, fitting the sleeves and collar around his wrists and neck. He peered into the black monitor to straighten the fur on his face and the hair on the top of his head. It didn't matter who was the next officer he had to work with, he had to make sure he looked as best as he could, else he could face even more ridicule than normal. His previous partner did pay mind to his attire, forcing Miles to make a habit out of tidying himself up before patrols and ops. A pain in the ass, but that pain could turn into electrocution if he disobeyed. He threw a glance over to the opposite wall of the room, where his face was nailed under the title "2nd best K-9 hound"; he smirked every time when he looked at it, finding it funny there was such a thing as 2nd and 3rd place for the best employee of the month. The first place was occupied by "Scout", the bloodhound that just snarled at him. They made a pretty good photo of you he remembered talking to his colleague your ears are drooping through the frame and all the way on the ground, just like in reality! Since that day, Scout has been a tad more pissed than usual.
Miles stood up, sighing through his nostrils and rubbed his eyes, dread creeping up his throat as he waited for the new police officer to pick him up. He didn't know if he was ready to cope with another McNeil, but he sure hoped he was commissioned to a better officer.
"But daaad, I like humies! I want to be like them! My tail gets in the way a lot and my ears are tickly all the time and-"
His father couldn't take it anymore of that and struck the child's muzzle with the back of his palm.
"Don't you ever say that as long as I live, you hear me? You'd better be proud of who you are or they will stomp and kick you like an ordinary dog. You are not an ordinary dog!" He yelled, keeping Miles' snout close to his own by grabbing him by his collar. Stinking spittle went everywhere in the fur of his face, merging with the pooling tears of pain.
He couldn't possibly understand any of it. Not until the night he and his sister were startled by the thundering, chopping sound of multiple rotor blades closing in to their district. Soon, searchlights pierced through the curtains and lit up the room with a blinding white light, his sister promptly started to tremble and cry. There was a large racket all around, his mother running all over the place, a strange, distorted voice booming from outside, the wails of his sister; the next thing he knew, his father crashed in the room with a rifle in his left hand and a black vest over his flannel. He knelt beside the two children and clumsily embraced them before he turned his attention to Miles.
"Today is the day you need to grow up and start taking care of the girls for me, Miles. I'm sorry your childhood has to end this early, but if I could, I'd take you all away from the trouble out there."
"-dents are to evacuate their households immediately, lethal force has been authorized if you do not comply. This is the CPD acting under order thirteen-seven, all anthro residents are to evacuate their households immediately,-"
"D-dad, what's going on?" Miles asked, his voice shaking, his sister echoed his question.
"Humans. They've learned to hate us and treat us like animals, because we tried to be like them. Do not forget this day, for today they've showed their true face. Remember their face."
And he was off, his sister clung to his leg as he tried to leave, which he shoved off effortlessly and was never to be seen again. Mother quickly gathered whatever she could find of value in their house and grabbed the children to get out and face the true human nature. Miles swallowed a knot as he was looked straight in the eyes by a large frame of a person clad in padded kevlar armor, clutching an automatic rifle.
"It's the Longtails." The man uttered, looking straight down at Miles. "Put'em in."
He and Mel got separated from mom, screams of pain and fear were the only things he could remember from that night. Miles screamed with frustration too, knowing that he already failed his father; that and, he hated the fact that he was right. Mister Burke was the one who separated him and Mel from mom and poppa. Mr Burke is Joel's father, Joel was his best friend and only Joel knew where they were living.
There was a rhythmic clacking noise coming from a cramped, but still comfortable cubicle next to the corner of the giant, mostly empty room, as Miles kept flipping the black carabiner in his right palm. He was staring down at the framed photo of himself graduating the K-9 academy, where his academic cap sat at a certain angle on his head to allow his left year to point upwards; he held the diploma with a subtle disgust, yet, he had a smile on his muzzle as he looked straight at the camera lens. There was a shorter, nicely dressed and fairly pretty German Shepherd looping her arm through his own, brandishing a wide, toothy grin. It was a strange sight, seeing the snotty pup that kept stepping on her own dolls and fart loudly turning into a young, desirable lady; he was proud of her, in some aspects, but he was constantly plagued with worry and anxiety over her well being.
"Cut the racket, Buck, the officer's 'bout to come." Said a bloodhound over the cubicle wall, his ears and droopy skin flopping as he talked.
"Gotcha, boss." Miles muttered under his breath as he placed the carabiner on his desk.
He made sure his uniform was in pristine condition, fitting the sleeves and collar around his wrists and neck. He peered into the black monitor to straighten the fur on his face and the hair on the top of his head. It didn't matter who was the next officer he had to work with, he had to make sure he looked as best as he could, else he could face even more ridicule than normal. His previous partner did pay mind to his attire, forcing Miles to make a habit out of tidying himself up before patrols and ops. A pain in the ass, but that pain could turn into electrocution if he disobeyed. He threw a glance over to the opposite wall of the room, where his face was nailed under the title "2nd best K-9 hound"; he smirked every time when he looked at it, finding it funny there was such a thing as 2nd and 3rd place for the best employee of the month. The first place was occupied by "Scout", the bloodhound that just snarled at him. They made a pretty good photo of you he remembered talking to his colleague your ears are drooping through the frame and all the way on the ground, just like in reality! Since that day, Scout has been a tad more pissed than usual.
Miles stood up, sighing through his nostrils and rubbed his eyes, dread creeping up his throat as he waited for the new police officer to pick him up. He didn't know if he was ready to cope with another McNeil, but he sure hoped he was commissioned to a better officer.