Short sharp barks. Dogs did bad things -- they ripped throats from victims. Bloodied chunks of flesh would hang from their yellowed fangs, which would be revealed by black lips curled back in a growling snarl. She swallowed, trying to quell the heart that increased from a soft patter to bounding leaps.
At that moment a scrawny creature with bright, brown eyes slunk from the underbrush. He snarled, revealing only one yellowed fang instead of two. Mud clung to his fur, and bound his tail to his hind legs. With a sharp box, he sat down in the middle of the path, and stared at them. He licked his chops, just as if we are a platter of raw steak swimming in blood…
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