The Fox & The Houndour
Mog Anarchy
I
Crawling slowly through the damp, emerald grass – the small canine felt the soft touch of the soil seeping in between his paws; the gentle patter of tiny raindrops falling onto his head, stroking his brow carefully, like a caring mother with a cloth.
The towering trees upon either side of the Berry Forest stabbed their rough, harsh fingers through the frozen mist, trying to reach out and grab him – and smother him with stinging splinters.
He trembled in fear, as he watched his shaking breaths rise into the air, condensing into a frigid fog, numbing his very senses and making his blood trickle slowly through his veins.
As the sticky earth stuck fast to the soles of his paws, tiny larvae wriggling up his shins and endless swarms of mosquitoes encircling his head, the tiny creature shook with terror, his breaths becoming even more laboured and passive, his throat drying painfully, as if it were being rubbed with sandpaper.
He dived to the ground, burying his pale face in the dark earth – as a rapid flock of Ledian hurtled through the air above him, slicing the mist into several jagged pieces, which fell to the ground as tiny shatters of cold glass.
"First you head to Kanto… A-A-And then you go to J-J-Johto…" He whimpered to himself, repeating an old coping mechanism that he had overheard a terrified junior Trainer singing softly to himself at the Three Island Port; when he'd finished off his care parcel of Lava Cookies, and was beginning to feel rather homesick.
The tiny animal felt beyond homesick. He felt nauseated with air-sickness, travel-sickness, and every other kind of vomit inducing nausea that existed. A burning rush of acid began welling up in his throat, like a venomous Poison Fang; and began scorching his mouth.
After he had wiped his mouth on a soft mound of moss, and carefully covered his small puddle of fear soup with several kicks of the damp mud, he turned and began frantically hopping away in the opposite direction, wincing in pain as drops of sweat began trickling into his eyes.
He yelped in pain, feeling his sluggish blood being drained from his back. He cautiously turned his head, noticing a tiny Weedle perched upon his back, its fangs firmly implanted into his neck, slurping up his innards with pleasure.
"G-G-Get off of me…!" The animal whimpered, his eyes beginning to fill up with tears.
The parasite raised his eye level to the canine's own, and he bared his teeth in a smart grin, a stream of scarlet blood running down his chin and dripping into the smooth, ebony fur upon the animal's back.
He flailed about wildly, in a final attempt to remove the vampire from his flesh. The Weedle lost its balance and tumbled onto the ground beside him.
"B-B-Be thankful I'm not a H-Houndoom…" He stammered, his tiny white fangs showing as he spoke.
Just as the Weedle was about to respond – raising his pointed stinger upon his scalp towards the animal's face – a loud shriek filled the forest, followed by a sudden rush of cold air, filled with hundreds of tiny particles of sand and dust.
The canine winced slightly, the sand blowing into his face, scratching at his skin.
When he opened his eyes, the Weedle was laid limply in the beak of a menacing Pidgeotto, droplets of purple blood dripping from his underside, bitter venom seeping out from the stinger's point, and falling to the ground.
The animal chewed nervously upon his bottom lip, as the Pidgeotto rapidly sucked up his prey in his beak, the purple secretions staining his beige feathers a sickly shade of violent violet.
With a quick flick of its brightly coloured head feathers, the Pidgeotto shot the small defenceless creature a cold glance, malice shimmering back at him in his hard, empty eyes. It raised its wings, and swiftly rose into the sky, soaring back up to his perch upon the highest tree of the forest.
Feeling his hind legs begin to tremble, the creature set off running, his soft paws pounding hard upon the muddy ground, flecks of soil flying up into the air and splattering against his frantic fur.
His breath rasped in his throat, his eyes burned with terror, feeling the fur upon his stumpy tail begin to bristle upwards uncomfortably, his skin prickling tightly under the weight of his soft fur.
Hearing the harsh cracks of twigs breaking in two underneath his petrified paws, he began running faster, his short legs sprinting as fast as they could – attempting to find a way out of the foreboding forest.
"Running-off-to-Hoenn--Lead-the-way-to-Sinnoh--" He panted, attempting to remove his emotion of apprehensiveness, and replace it with reassurance.
"Aaah!" He screamed, as his skull cap upon his scalp collided with a hard surface in front of him, the impact driving the breath out of his body, knocking him to the ground.
The something he had bumped against turned to face him, raising its furry eyebrows above its misted, glassy eyes.
"Are you lost…?" It asked, looking down at the trembling Houndour upon the ground below him, his blanched face buried in the mud.
The Houndour gingerly raised his head from the ground, his fur smeared with dirt and sweat. "I… I… I'm…" He stammered, his rough tongue rubbing angrily against the roof of his mouth.
The creature before him gave him an odd look, somewhat of a grimace, showing its tiny pearl teeth; although also somewhat of a pitying despair, shaking his furry head from side to side.
"Stand up." It ordered.
The Houndour didn't dare to argue with the creature's request; he slowly rose onto his four paws, his breath shaking dangerously in his chest, his knees shaking harshly, as his dirty fur stood upon end, prickling in panic.
"You're bleeding." The creature commented, noticing the painful bite marks along his back, and the stinging grazes upon his chin.
"I-I-It's nothing…" The Houndour mumbled, although his wounds were throbbing in pain, rough shreds of grit and gravel that had entered the torn flesh were angrily braising against his skin.
"What's your problem?" The animal before him asked, sneering slightly.
The Houndour didn't respond. He lowered his head slightly in shame, not bearing for this creature to see him cry.
The creature sighed, gingerly placing one of his paws upon his shoulder – his downy fur stroking carefully along his wounds. "I'm Spike." It said.
The Houndour raised his head, his eyes glistening with tears.
Stood before him was a new creature, one he had not seen before upon his island. Its fur was a light shade of brown, larger clumps of fluffy down bunched around his neck like a fancy fur boa. Its ears were broad, the fur in-between them was spiked up, sticking a full three inches in the air; resembling a miniature Mohawk.
Houndour squeaked, not daring to respond.
Spike furrowed his furry brow. "And you are…?" He growled slightly.
"Dour." He mumbled, lowering his head.
"Dour?" Spike repeated, flicking his fur out of his eyes.
Dour nodded, blushing slightly.
"Well that was a well thought out nickname." Spike sniggered.
Dour turned as red as his underside, wishing that he could tug down his skull cap over his eyes. "I… Uh…"
"Aw come on; friendly banter." Spike grinned, giving Dour a nudge.
"Uh... Does that mean we're friends...?" Dour asked, cautiously, his weak knees beginning to quiver.
Spike sneered, curling his lip. "Of course not; imbecile. We're deadly enemies."
"Oh no…" Dour squeaked, taking a step backwards, grimacing as he felt the mud squish between his paws.
"Loser." Spike mocked, giving Dour's round, wet nose a flick with his front paw.
It wasn't a harsh bat, but Dour winced all the same; feeling his black button nose begin to tingle slightly from the impact.
"Aww… Are you gonna cry again?" Spike smiled, flicking his floppy fur out of his eyes once more.
Dour sniffled, shaking his head weakly, although his lip was quivering, and his eyes were beginning to burn.
"Come on." Spike groaned, sounding a little guilty. "I wasn't being deliberately mean."
Dour nodded weakly, but he still felt rather doubtful. "I-I-I know you weren't…"
"Why are you here, anyway…?" Spike asked, eventually, lowering his eyes.
"…I was…" Dour stammered.
"Yes?"
"Hiding…" He mumbled.
"From what?"
"A… A big b-bunch of b-bikers came to p-port; and…"
"They wanted to capture you; right?" Spike asked. "Yup; been there. This obnoxious little brat on Four Island wanted me - wanted to evolve me into a Glaceon; 'to impress Lorelei' or something."
"What's a Glaceon…?" Dour mumbled, blushing slightly.
"A frozen fox, by the sound of it." Spike smiled. "Screw that; I'm happy as a boring ol' Eevee."
"So that's what you are…" Dour mumbled.
"I am." Spike smirked, watching as Dour began blushing again.
"…I didn't mean for you to hear that…" He said quietly, hanging his head.
Spike ignored him, and carried on regardless: "Well; I don't like the idea of being stuffed into a freezer - so I stowed away on the Seagallop Three, and I came here."
"I'm afraid of those ships…" Dour mumbled. "They go so fast…"
"You'd have an accident, eh?" Spike smiled.
Dour nodded awkwardly, his face burning.
"I've been here for two days now. I'm getting a bit bored." Spike admitted.
"I've lived here all my life…" Dour squeaked.
"And how long's that?" Spike asked, raising an ear.
"Fourteen years…" Dour muttered.
"Jeez!" Spike exclaimed. "I could never stay in the same place for so long!"
Dour shrugged. "It's not like I can leave…"
"Sure you can." Spike grinned, nudging him. "You can come with me. I came here to stock up on supplies."
He reached behind his fluffy tail, and pulled out a small leather bag with intricate red stitching. He opened it carefully, revealing several dozen multicoloured berries.
Dour dragged his eyes away from the mouth-watering arrangement of enticing fruit, attempting to ignore his growling stomach - and returned his eye level to Spike.
"Come with you…?" He asked, his throat crackling.
Spike smiled, dipping his paw into the leather pouch, and pulling out a large pink berry, two emerald-green leaves sprouting from the top.
"I'm leaving this island, come nightfall… I'm bound for another." Spike said, gripping the berry tightly in his front paw.
"…If you wish to leave; and come out with me, you're more than welcome to." He said gruffly, bringing back his front leg, and squashing the berry against Dour's forehead.
Dour grimaced, feeling the sticky juice sliding down his face, the thick clumps of flesh encrusted upon his face, the leaves plastered above his eyebrows.
"But of course… If you want to mope around this dull ol' place for the rest of your life, then so be it." Spike shrugged, stuffing a bright blue Oran berry into his open jaws.
He chomped on it intently, his dark eyes scanning Dour closely; focusing in on his tiny, dirtied paws, his banded hind legs, his knees knocking together. His soft, crimson underside, surrounded by neatly layered strands of fine black fur, plastered to his skin by his copious amount of perspiration which had been expelled from his pores recently. Dour's short, stumpy tail, stood up briskly to attention - like a radio antennae, and his rounded face, his expression filled with fear.
His harsh jaws were tensed in worry, his small pointed fangs overhanging his quivering bottom lip - as a tiny droplet of drool trickled along his rough tongue, and splashed out onto the ground. His nose twitched nervously every so often, sleuthing the area for any scent of a new, incoming threat. His ears were erect, pointed upwards at either side of his hardened skull cap - its previous shine dulled by the mud, grass, Pecha berry juice and damp sweat.
His eyes were shimmering gently against the tiny cracks of light, seeping in through the openings in the canopy of leaves above their heads, treading neat pathways through the dampened grass below. They glowed gently, reflecting Spike's own penetrating glare back at him, the rebound intensified by the glassed teardrops that were frozen inside Dour's eyelids - ready to burst like the walls of a weir at any given moment.
"I'm heading to Six Island." Spike mumbled at last, feeling slightly uneasy at Dour's current pitiful, pleading expression.
Dour nodded. "I've heard of there… Lostelle showed me her map…"
"Map of the Sevii Islands, right?" Spike asked, raising his eyebrows. "Well; at least you're not completely clueless."
Dour still looked doubtful.
"You don't want to leave; do you?" Spike asked, narrowing his eyes.
Dour said nothing, but lowered his head, his skull cap parallel to Spike's face - so that the Eevee was staring into the eyes of a skull-shaped bone helmet.
"Well, I can't make you." Spike grumbled.
He turned, and began walking in the opposite direction.
After several metres, he stopped and turned, glancing over his shoulder.
"If you change your mind… I'll be at Three Island Port… Until six PM." He paused. "And then, if you haven't came… You won't see me again."
Spike tossed his hair, and walked solemnly on, his long tail swishing from side to side, as he waded through the long grass - leaving Dour stranded alone in the centre of Berry Forest.
"Oh Dour!"
Dour raised his head, removing his gaze from the gravelled pathway below his paws. He turned to the direction of the sound.
A young girl, dressed in a cute blue pinafore dress with an orange ribbon was standing on her doorstep; her long rose-coloured hair tied back neatly in twin pigtails.
'Lostelle…' Dour thought, a lump appearing in his rough throat.
The sound of the girl's buckle-over shoes pounding against the gravel path reached Dour's erected ears - as he was frozen to the spot, not daring to wander out of Lostelle's sight.
"Dour; you're filthy!" Lostelle exclaimed, wrinkling her nose, as she gazed down forlornly at the dirt-encrusted Pokémon before her.
Dour whimpered slightly, as Lostelle placed her hand daintily around his back, and tugged him towards her house.
"You're getting a bath Dour." She said sternly, closing her front door behind them both.
'Oh joy…' Dour thought, chewing on his lip nervously.
Dour had always hated water - and his inability to swim didn't aid his confidence levels, when he was immersed in the clear, wet substance.
"Arghh!!" Dour spluttered, feeling the soap suds entering his nose and ears, as he was being briskly scrubbed along his back and belly with a thick scrubbing brush, scraping away every single particle of shameful dirt from his fine fur.
"Do hush, Dour." Lostelle scolded, tipping a cupful of warm water over his head, rinsing the bubbles from his skull cap. "You don't want to walk around smelling like a Grimer; do you?"
Dour kept his eyes firmly shut, wincing in pain as Lostelle began rubbing at his muddy paws with a coarse piece of sapphire-coloured flannel.
He was bobbing dangerously in a tub filled with warm, soapy water - in the far corner of Lostelle's kitchen, whilst she scrubbed him clean, wiping away the debris from his previous adventures in the Berry Forest.
"Were you trying to break berries with your head, Dour?" Lostelle asked, shaking her head in despair, as she wiped away the sticky berry gunk from Dour's forehead with the flannel. "They're not like nuts you know - they don't need cracking open."
Dour felt his cheeks redden; now feeling moronic.
'Thanks Spike…' He growled in his mind.
"There." Lostelle smiled, placing her flannel down upon the sideboard, admiring her handiwork. "Good as new."
Dour grimaced slightly, staring down at the muddied water he was sitting in, not realising how dirty he had actually been.
"Don't you look adorable?" Lostelle gushed, giggling to herself, as she clasped her hands together, admiring the soggy Houndour, sitting dejectedly in the metal bathtub, droplets of water rolling down his face and dripping from his ears.
Slipping her hands gently underneath Dour's front legs, Lostelle scooped him carefully from the water, setting him down softly upon a furry down blanket beside the fireplace.
"You sit there and dry off." She instructed, hauling up the heavy metal tub and making for the back door - grunting slightly under its weight.
"I have a present for you." She smiled, nodding her head in his direction, before the door closed behind her, blocking the harsh draught that had started to creep in from the door crack.
Dour sighed, staring down at his damp paws, resting gently upon the blanket - glowing softly in the warm glow of the crackling fire.
"Spike…" Dour mumbled to himself, glancing nervously behind him at Lostelle's front door - almost as if he could see right through it, staring out onto Three Island Port.
"Would he really leave without saying goodbye…?" Dour asked himself, gently rubbing his forehead with his front paw - the very area where Spike had thumped him with the berry. The absence of the sticky glop made Dour feel extremely lonely. It had remained there as a memorial of his time spent with Spike; but now it had vanished, washed away down to the depths of the drains - never to be seen again.
"…I only knew him for a few minutes…" Dour continued, musing to himself. "Yet… It feels like he was my only friend."
"Dour?"
Dour raised his head sheepishly, noticing Lostelle towering above him.
"Talking to yourself?" She smiled, rubbing his head affectionately.
Dour growled in the back of his mind, thoughts of pulling away from her filling his skull - but he could never bring himself to act hostile towards the one who adored him so much.
"I'm so glad Daddy let you stay here, Dour." Lostelle whispered, lying down beside him, burying her face in his muzzle.
Dour winced slightly, his mind returning to Spike. '…I can't leave Spike… But… I can't leave Lostelle, either…' He thought, chewing his lip.
"Daddy won't let me train Pokémon for real - but I'm so happy he lets you stay here." Lostelle continued, reaching in her pocket, and pulling out a dusty, red Pokéblock.
Dour tried to smile, as he allowed the ancient confectionary be slid in-between his lips. He sucked it thoughtfully, the somewhat stale taste drying hard upon his tongue.
"I can't bear the thought of you being alone in that forest by yourself at night." Lostelle mumbled, entwining her fingers within his fur.
'Neither can I…' Dour thought, forcing the rough cube of crushed berries, sugar and dust down his throat.
"Oh yes!" Lostelle suddenly exclaimed, causing Dour to jump. "Your present."
She reached down into her pocket, and tugged out a tiny leather collar; a crimson red, the exact shade of Dour's own blood, that was now spilt upon the soil of the Berry Forest. Around the edges, seventeen tiny spikes were protruding from the leather, sticking out several centimetres.
Lostelle smiled to herself, as she busied herself, wrapping the collar around Dour's neck, and tying up the fastening.
"It suits you." She grinned. "Makes you look so tough."
'Tough?!' Dour thought, scoffing. 'Even with a collar, a leather jacket, sunglasses and biker boots - I'd still look like a baby.'
"Do you like it?"
Dour nodded slightly, although cautiously, thinking in his mind he would be prone to stabbing himself with his new weaponry around his neck.
Lostelle sighed happily, rubbing her soft cheek against Dour's belly, embracing the warmth of the fire, and the soft drum of Dour's heartbeat against her ear.
Dour gulped, looking up at the silver clock upon the wall. - 5:42.
'…Just make out you need to answer nature's call…' Dour thought, his hind legs beginning to quiver.
Dour had never dared to venture down to Three Island Port after dark. He had overheard dreadful tales about criminals and kidnappers lurking within shadows - stowing away from island to island on the Seagallop ships - turning over the crew, and taking the ships for joyrides.
'I'd rather eat a Caterpie than get involved with that…' Dour mumbled to himself, secretly wishing he wasn't such a coward, and would dare to do outrageous things, and pull insane stunts - like he imagined Spike would.
'Spike!' His mind shouted again, reminding him of the rapid minute hand, whirling around the face of the clock - creating a black hole to eternity.
"Lostelle, I need to go outside." Dour barked.
"Excuse me, Dour?" Lostelle asked, her eyebrows raised in confusion. "I can't understand you."
Dour groaned, struggling up from his comfortable spot - before doing an imitation of someone with a bladder the size of a Brazil nut, after drinking several pints of water.
"Oh!" Lostelle exclaimed, looking slightly embarrassed. "Well, off you go then."
Dour breathed a sigh of relief, darting out of the door, glaring down at his paws pounding upon the rough, gravelled pathway.
"I'm coming Spike…!" Dour panted, droplets of drool trickling down his chin, his tiny tongue hanging out of one side of his jaws as he ran on.
Dour skidded to a halt, his paws stirring up the spiny shards of cracked seashells and rugged pebbles mixed in with the saffron sands of the Three Island Port.
He scanned the area curiously, squinting hard against the darkness - the usually golden sands being displayed to him as a dull grey; the calm seas, lapping at the shoreline, now turned a dark shade of ebony, almost as if pure hatred was washing onto the island with every movement of the tide.
Dour shivered, realising how dark it was. "Err…" He stammered, feeling the fur upon his neck prickle up. "S-Spike?"
He continued scanning the area, frowning at the picket fence, surrounding the shore, resembling impaled spears, embedded in the ground - a brutal kill from a Neanderthal hunter.
Dour gulped, feeling the warm touch of breath blowing upon his neck. He cautiously turned his head, feeling his blood beginning to run sluggishly down his veins.
A sudden flash of white fangs caught his eye - surrounded by a thick mess of bristled fur; two hard, dark eyes, cold as blackened glaciers staring back at him.
"Boo." - It said, a cold, greasy voice slithering out from behind the gnarled fangs.
Dour screamed, tumbling over backwards, bumping his head against the wooden pier.
"D-Don't kill me!" He pleaded, feeling a hot sprig of tears rushing to his eyes.
A thundering echo sound filled the air - six identical chimes, crashing hard against the clouds, vibrating hard against Dour's ears.
The death clock.
Perish song.
Time up.
Game over.
'Spike…' Dour sighed, hearing the foghorn of Seagallop Seven, pulling up in the harbour behind him.
"So, you were after that boat, were you?!" The voice spat, embedding its claws into Dour's shoulders, pressing his skull against the ground.
"I-I-I… I was… B-B-But, please-"
"Well…" The voice snickered, sounding strangely gentle, "So was I."
With a quick scraping sound, the head of a match being struck against the rough surface of the splintered planks - the face of the monster was suddenly illuminated in a tiny burst of orange flame - the cold eyes immediately melting in warmth, the bared fangs now curling into a soft smile.
"Heya Dour." Spike snickered, flicking his fur away from his eyes. "Didn't think you'd show up."
Dour ground his teeth together in fury, turning purple with embarrassment.
"…Spike!" He spat, feeling a scorching scream welling up in his throat. "You-"
"Whoa, cool it Dour." Spike grinned, rolling off him, and picking himself up, brushing the grains of sand from his fur.
Dour roared loudly, expelling a burning mass of hot embers from his throat, smoke billowing from his nostrils, white ashes tumbling to the ground.
Spike's eyes flashed with fear, as he quickly ducked to the ground, narrowly avoiding the fire-breath attack - hot sparks singeing his bushy tail.
"Dour!" Spike wailed, raising his two front paws in defence. "Chill out!"
Dour lowered his head, saliva and ashes dribbling down his chin. "Sorry." He mumbled, wincing as he felt his throat beginning to tingle.
Spike grinned, dusting down his paws. "Well, if you want to play like that…"
With a loud screech, Spike leapt into the air, hurtling down upon Dour's back, knocking him to the ground, as Spike pinned his front legs to the floor with his hind legs - his hind legs with his furry tail.
"Try not to cross me." Spike warned, opening his jaws, revealing his jagged teeth, droplets of saliva trickling down his tongue. He brought his fangs down upon Dour's neck, giving him a playful bite - not powerful enough to draw blood, but Dour still yelped in pain, all the same.
"You really should learn to control that Ember-temper of yours." Spike giggled, giving Dour a quick bat across the face with his front paws.
"I'm sorry…" Dour whispered, his nose beginning to run, his neck throbbing in agony, his cheeks stinging harshly with hatred, as his bitter tears braised against his sores.
Spike sneered, stepping off Dour's chest, tossing his head. "Whatever Dour."
Dour sighed, tears overflowing from his eyeballs, dampening his cheeks, as his nose began spouting like a faucet.
"You always cry." Spike scoffed, shaking his head.
Dour lowered his head, greeting Spike with his hollow, melancholy face of his skull cap.
"Augh…" Spike grimaced, a sour sense of guilt punching at his stomach.
He sneaked over to Dour, wrapping one of his paws around his shoulders. "Umm… Sorry bud." Spike mumbled, sounding awkward.
Dour blinked, not bearing to look at the apologizing Eevee stood before him.
"Oh come on… You're making me feel awful." Spike admitted, beginning to turn red in shame.
Dour raised his head, the moaning expression of his skull cap being replaced with his glistening glass-like eyes, dripping nose, tear-streaked cheeks, and his mouth set in a grim line.
"Good." Dour sniffled, lowering his eyebrows.
"Ach… You a cold man." Spike grumbled, pulling out his berry pouch. He dipped his paw into it, and pulled out a second Pecha berry.
"Don't you even think about it." Dour warned, his tears crystallising into stinging splinters of glass.
Spike looked uncomfortably, as he placed the pink berry into Dour's paw, scratching his forehead slightly, to distract himself.
Dour smiled oddly, glancing down at Spike's offering.
With a quick flick of his paw - Dour was standing back, his eyes shimmering in victory, as Spike bent his head, pink liquid trickling down his forehead, clumps of fruit flesh entwined within his fur.
A few moments later, he raised his head, smiling weakly.
Dour nodded, smiling back.
"Now we're even." Dour smiled.
"A berry for a berry." Spike added, nodding slowly.
"Take a final look at Three Island, Dour."
"…Final?" Dour whimpered - a pang of guilt punching him directly in his ribs, as he caught sight of the lone light at Lostelle's window.
"That's right." Spike shrugged. "Will we return? Who's to- …Ugh."
"Spike! Come on brother, we need to make it home before Gramps realises we're gone!"
"Emily wait! Gramps told us never to go into Berry Forest without-"
"Well, well, well, what've we got here then?!"
"Aww, isn't she cute?"
"Spike! Help!"
"Emily, no!"
"After they took you away; I was never the same."
"Spike! Wake up!"
Spike groaned, his eyelids slowly sliding apart, as he fingered the large bump upon the back of his skull.
"You blacked out, there." - Came Dour's frantic whimper. "I thought you'd conked out for sure!"
Spike grimaced, staring up into the shimmering eyes of the creature hanging above him.
"I'm fine." He growled, struggling to stand up. "Engine fumes make me dizzy, that's all."
"Who's Emily?" Dour blurted, unaware of his words.
"What?!" Spike yelled, shoving his face right up against Dour's nose; grinding his teeth together in fury.
"I-I-I'm sorry…" Dour stammered, feeling his legs quiver.
"So you should be." Spike spat, storming off to the edge of the pier, and spitting vehemently into the lapping waves below.
"Spike…?" Dour asked, nervously, almost daring to put a paw around his back.
Spike grunted in response, not bearing for Dour to see his one silent tear, sliding down his face, and dripping into the surf.
