Written by: PenName099

Warning: This chapter contains possibly mature themes that are alluded to slightly. Some readers may find it offensive, or upsetting. Read at your own risk.


The ground seemed empty beneath her paws. Maybe that was because she was still in disbelief. Still unable to come to terms with the fact that her brother lay dead, buried underground in the only show of respect that could be granted to a dead dog.

It seemed so cruel to her that he was gone before a full year had even passed. Her blood felt cold, knowing that the very same dog she'd been born with, the very same dog that fed from the same source as her, the very same dog that she had known her entire life was no more.

She was annoyed when a group of people walked by, kicking the dirt mindlessly. Barking and growling only earned her a sharp kick to the stomach, one which she shook off, but felt the numbing pain either way.

It didn't seem fair that to the world, that very spot was just that. A piece of dirt, part of a much larger and equally useless area. To them it was where they walked to get wherever it was humans went. To her it was the final resting spot of Buddy. One marked distinctly by the broken flower dropped before it.


"Mom! Mom!" Everett impatiently pounced on her mother, trying to get her to wake up.

All she got in response was a low pitched mumble. "Go to sleep Everett."

"I'm not tired." She fixed her with a characteristically expectant look.

"Fine." Her mother soon gave in.

"When the first people first saw the new moon, they would look towards it, and put their hands over their eyes, and say this:

Star, O Star, yonder in the sky!

Take my face there. You shall make me my face there.

When you have died, Moon, you return, alive again;

We no longer saw you, and then you came again.

Take my face that I may resemble you.

You always return, alive again, after we lose sight of you.

It was the hare that told you that you should do this.

It used to be that you told us that we also should return,

Alive again, after we had died.

Having said this prayer, once a man of the first people followed the prayer by telling this story:

In the beginning, the hares looked much like a human beings. And when they died, they did not die forever, for after a time they would return to living once again.

There was a young male hare whose mother died. She would not return to life, for she was altogether dead. Seeing this, the hare cried out for his mother.

The Moon heard the hare. You should leave off crying, he said to the hare. Your mother is not altogether dead. She will return to living once again, just as I do. When I am dead, I return, and once I return I am living once again.

I am not willing to be silent, said the hare. You are wrong. I know that my mother will not become alive again. She is altogether dead.

The Moon became angry that this young hare should speak this way, and not agree with what the Moon said. So the Moon hit the hare in the mouth, splitting the hare's lip. The hare's mouth shall always be like this, said the Moon. And the Moon gave the hare the form that all hares have today, with a lip that is in two parts, and longs legs for running.

The hare shall always bear this scar on his face, said the Moon. And the dogs shall always chase him, and he shall have to spring away, doubling back and forth as he tries to run away. If the dogs catch him, they will bit him and tear him to pieces, and he will altogether die, and never return to living once again.

And they who are human beings, said the Moon, when they die, they too shall altogether die, and never return to living once again. For the hare was not willing to agree with me when I told him that he should not cry for his mother. The hare was not willing to agree with me when I told him that his mother was not altogether dead, but would return to living once again.

I told the hare, the Moon went on, that all people should be like me, and do that which I do. When I am dead, I return, and once I return I am living once again. But the hare contradicted me, when I told him that.

And the-"

She stopped when she realized that the only sounds left of the night was the gentle breathing coming from her daughter.


He squirmed lightly at her touch, but quickly settled back down and easily fell asleep between her paws, as she licked the top of his head slowly and thoughtfully.

She cursed silently at herself, much like she'd been doing for the past few months. The fact that she had allowed this to happen again petrified her. It was something that despite her steadfast nature, seemed to just naturally occur.

Even before he had been born, she had dark thoughts. Thoughts which she wouldn't fully let go of, even when she was deeply ashamed of them.

No, she couldn't, wouldn't be able to bring herself to get rid of him. He was helpless as it was, the only hint of movement from his gray form, being the rhythmic rising and falling from his chest.

Somehow the fact that he was gray made everything seem even worse. It made it seem like life was laughing at her. Mocking her for failing in something that she had so hard tried to prevent. And in her mind it had every right to do so.

She gently laid her head down near his, trying to close her eyes, to fall asleep. But every attempt only ended up producing the same results. Her eyes would shoot open in fear, scared for the life of her newborn child. She sighed, eventually giving up and deciding that it might be best to just stay awake. Sleep brought with it darkness and darkness brought with it nightmares. Nightmares of seeing a small, limp body, torn and shred to pieces, blood covering the floor. The cheerful grin of a sick animal, one which sung and mocked her, until she silenced it by striking it's eye out. Even as it ran away whimpering, she could find no joy in the situation.

"Mom?"

She jumped suddenly, her muscles tensing, prepared to protect and defend. She calmed down when she saw that it was only her daughter, whose eyes were opened wide at the ball of fur lying at her paws.

"Is that..."

"Yes," She sighed, "Yes, it is. Where have you been Everett?"

"Well," Everett looked down, shuffling her paws, "You seemed kinda' grouchy this morning so I took a walk and ended up near...you know where."

"Right," She nodded slowly at her daughter's words, "I suppose you should meet your new brother," She pushed him forwards slightly, giving her daughter a chance to take a look at him, he stirred slightly, but was otherwise clearly too tired to wake up, "He looks pretty healthy to me."

"Yeah...he looks a lot like..."

She pulled him back in with her paw, "Looks like him," She laid her head down again, "but definitely ain't him." She muttered, assuming that her daughter hadn't heard her.


She could practically hear her heart beating in her chest. The slow steady stream of water, last few shrill whistles from the birds and gentle breeze in the air did nothing to soothe her angered, fearsome soul.

Everett urged her legs, urged her body to move faster, to run faster. The cold, terrified yelp that had filled the air only moments before had told her everything she needed to know about her mother's state. She was an optimist, but also a realist. Her mother was dead and she would be soon as well.

She enjoyed life, enjoyed living, but if dying was what it took to give her brother the chance to live, she sure as heck wasn't going to hesitate in making her decision.


He sauntered up to them, much more confident than before. The fresh chicken drum he had stolen dripping sauce all over the once clean pavement.

Even from a distance he was sure they were the same dogs from a few weeks prior, getting closer only made them even more recognizable. They were both in the exact same positions as before, Bozo had taken the lead, using his nose to sniff the air and try to make out anything that even remotely resembled food, all to appease the much larger Rags who impatiently trotted behind, looking bored out of his mind.

Finding the two hadn't been too difficult, Peg and Bull did seem to know where every dog on the streets could be found. Based off of what they had told him, Bozo wasn't the one he was really interested in. That fine interest was directed at Rags.

Eventually the two started to head his way, likely due to Bozo catching a whiff of the chicken he was carrying in between his teeth.

"...this is it for sure! Just wait and see Rags."

"Sure thing..." Rags drawled rolling his eyes, "You definitely smell food and you're definitely about to prove that you're not a useless, good for nothing-" He stopped suddenly upon noticing Tramp.

"Fellas'," Tramp spoke around the food hanging from his mouth and nodded his head towards both of them, "The two of you hungry?"

"Hungry? We're starving," Rags chuckled, "You willing to share?"

"Of course, what type of dog would I be if I left the two of you poor souls to die of starvation. Tell you what I'll give you the whole thing."

"Really? Well that's awful generous of you to-"

"But."

"But?"

"I've got just one small 'asking fee'."

Rags face scrunched up, "Shoulda' guessed so. Alright Mr..."

"Tramp."

"Mister Tramp, what exactly are you looking for? Two filthy mutts like us don't have much to offer to anyone."

Tramp grinned, "Mhm...funny thing is that I've heard a lot about the two of you. Especially you Mister Rags. In fact, two little birdies just so happened to sing a little song about the 'product' you offer."

"Well then make sure you thank those two little birdies next time you see them, 'cause you're definitely talking to the right dog."

Tramp tossed the chicken drum towards both of them, "Let's negotiate, shall we?"

Rags took a good look at him, "My judgement is a little rusty right now, but based off your looks and attitude I'd say..." He drifted off for a second, eyes closing, as if he were deep in thought, "...you'll want Lulu, Mary, or Helen."

"Mary?" Bozo's eyes suddenly widened, "Uhm, boss, me and Mary are already-"

"Bozo!" Rags cleared his throat, "Make yourself useful and find a safe spot for that chicken, would ya'?"

"But, boss-"

"Now!"

He muttered in slight concern, before picking up the chicken and walking away.

"Sorry about that," Rags laughed Bozo's attitude off, "He's a little nutty upstairs- so, you wanna' come by? Get an idea of my 'product'."

Tramp nodded eagerly, following after Rags.