Not too far away, Nudnik followed his nose on the whiff of a most interesting and yummy mouth watering smell his nostrils caught a sniff of shortly before.

Like Big Daddy Bronx, he was going to be a good tracker some day and a good tracker always follows his nose on a strong scent, especially for food. Why Big Daddy Bronx didn't follow this smell with him, Nuddie didn't know why, it was yummy and meaty. And it was getting stronger, which meant whatever he was smelling is really close now.

The smell was coming from behind some big prickly bushes, but that won't stop Nuddie, he's got tough skin like the rest of his clan. Nudnik pushed his way past the botanical bushy obstacle, into the wildly crisscrossing sticks and branches, getting a leg caught in a web of limbs a time or two, but easily broke free with youthful determination and superior strength as he followed the scent to its source.

Pushing his cart of assorted goodies in front of himself, the late night hotdog vendor walked about down the path looking for any late night park goers looking for a taste of authentic New York weenies. Sadly though, business had become a bit slow since that urban legend of live gargoyle statues coming to life at night spread all over the metro area several years ago.

Being a born and bred native New Yorker, the hotdog vendor was vaguely aware of Gothic assorted decorations high atop the buildings, but c'mon, living statues coming to life at night?

At the time the vendor could only scoff at the notion and remain practical. He knew New Yorkers always had a flare for the dramatic and fantastic.

Still, maybe tonight he'll get lucky.

A loud rustling from some nearby bushes gave him a startle; the vendor stared at them in frozen fearful expectation, not knowing what was to emerge.

A moderately small brown dog creature squirmed its way out of the bushes covered in sticks and leaves, much of the plant refuse caught in its assortment of head spikes. It sniffed at the ground for but a moment as though searching for something to then sniff at the air for a moment more and looked at the vendor with pupil less white eyes, and gave him what looked like a doggie grin with an open maw and lopping tongue as it whined in expectation.

"Man," the vendor said, "Stray dawgs git ugl'er ev'ry day."

But then he did love dogs, and was a sucker whose heart melted at the sight of a hungry stray puppy. And in a weird way it was kind of cute.

"Hey, der l'tl fella," he said, "Ya hung'y? Ya looks l'ke ya wantins some re'l N' Yawk saus'ges, and I gots 'em. Fin'st in all N' Yawk."

The ugly looking puppy gave an excited yip as though he understood what he just said, its stubby tail wagged rapidly around like a tiny airplane propeller.

Nudnik's excitement made the hotdog vendor laugh at his mischief as the garg puppy turned one way then the other, hoping for the vendor to drop a hotdog treat. The little gargbeast even made a leap at the cart, surprising the vendor with amazing strength as the cart leaned and swayed about for a second or so.

"Whoa ders, l'tl fella," he said trying to calm the hungry pup, "I'll gets youse one, but j'st one, 'kay?"

Somebody gave a whistle then shouted, "Nudnik, here, boy!"

So the stray had an owner after all, maybe he won't mind if the vendor gave him a little treat.

As the vendor opened the storage bin with raw uncooked hotdogs, the strange looking pup jumped up at his cart again to make it sway harder to bounce from one wheel to the other as the pup's paws pushed against its side.

"Whoa ders, fella, not yet," the vendor cried with a slight panic as he reached for his tongs.

But Nudnik kept jumping up and down, too excited to wait for his meaty prize.

The next moment, several things happened all at once and too fast for the vendor to take in. From the same bushes suddenly emerged an even larger and uglier dog thing, this one a dark blue color and growled at the small brown one, making it finally knock over the cart completely and land on its side with a hard crash. Bags of chips and candy burst apart, cans of soda spewed foamy liquid, and ketchup, mustard, relish, and other condiments spilled onto the cement path, while the vendor was suddenly bowled over by the brown dog thing and landed with a hard bodily thump as it quickly ripped open the storage bin door to pull out a long link of hotdogs and started running away as the bigger blue dog thing made an impressive leap over the fallen cart to chase after the brown puppy. Not a moment later, several more weirder looking creatures quickly emerged from the trees and bushes to chase after the dog things.

For a second, the hotdog vendor thought he heard a kid shout, "Sorry, mister!" and a teenager momentarily hesitated as he started longingly at the spilled food, but then followed after the winged creatures.

For several long moments, the hotdog vendor just laid on his side staring after the scene in front of him, hardly believing what just took place.

He then reached for a packet from his shirt pocket and looked disgustedly at it.

"Dat's it," he growled, "I gotta lays off the cigs."

He tossed it into the nearest trashcan as he then set to struggling to right his fallen cart and salvaging what he could as he cleaned up the mess.

The three gargoyles and their new human friend chased after the gargbeasts, Nudnik bounding about hither and yon while entangled in a meaty chain of hotdogs, his mindset strong in a game of keep away and chase me while showing no signs of even slowing down.

"Nudnik, get back here!" Graeme shouted, "Why won't he listen to me? I thought I finally had him trained."

"He is still a young beast," said Desdemona, "They can still be very stubborn when they set to following their instincts."

"And right now his instincts are telling him this is all a game," Ariana panted.

"Which is why we need to catch Nudnik before he gets himself hurt," Desdemona said as they continued the chase.

Ahead of his clan, Nuddie ran like a bat out of hell only fueled by adrenaline and youthful vigor. He dashed about the edge of the park not caring where he headed to then follow a road through the park that lead to a busy street. Without even slowing he ran out into the middle of moving traffic as cars of various models tried to put on the breaks to avoid a head on collision with the garg pup and turning him into roadkill, though the sudden stops caused cars from behind to crash into the ones in front and create a chain reaction.

Far too focused on his game, Nuddie ignored the shrieking of tires on the road and the warning blares of cars' horns which were nothing more than faint background noise to him, though the acoustics could have greatly hurt his sensitive ears.

Nuddie then made a leap and bounced off of the hood of an ugly green Mercedes to leave faint claw marks, and then was followed by Bronx doing the same as he barked after the runaway Nudnik.

Inside the Mercedes, two familiar faces watched through the clear transparent glass window in surprise at the scene as the dog monsters were suddenly followed by several gargoyles and a street urchin struggling to keep up.

"You see what I mean, Brandon," Margot complained to her husband, "They're nothing but wild animals running rampant though the city streets risking people's safety. And Maza and Bluestone think they're as smart as people. Well, one way or another I'll have them tranquilized and locked up, preventing anything like this from happening again."

Brandon could only roll his eyes and slap his face as he shook his head.

Whatever was he going to do with Margot?

From the chaos that had ensued from the beasts running out into busy traffic, Desdemona and the others were quickly losing sight of the gargbeasts as they dashed about the growing crowds of startled and frightened humans. As the gargoyles and Jake tried to keep up, the growing crowd further inhibited them as people stared to gawk at the situation or squeezed tightly together to avoid the gargoyles.

As Desdemona tried to gently push her way through the increasing sea of humans, she suddenly realized she could no longer see any sign of the loose gargbeasts.

"I'm sorry, my young charges," she told the twins, "I've lost sight of them."

"What do we do now?" Graeme said worriedly.

"Call animal control?" Jake suggested sarcastically, making the gargoyles give him dirty looks, but he could only shrug.

All they could do now was take their new friend to the Labyrinth for shelter and fresh food.

****A back alley in Greenwich Village.

His intrepid sojourn had taken him a long way, but there was still so far to go, how far he did not know, yet it will not keep him from loyally returning to his master.

So far the only inconvenient contingency to sidetrack him from his path was hunger. He had ran long and hard, and he now required nourishment.

Searching about in the rubbish bins behind an inexpensive restaurant, Anaheim had found plenty of tossed out leftovers, much of which always attracted roaches and plenty of fat rats.

Anaheim had so far killed three big rats from behind this alley, and found he really liked the rush of a fresh kill and the taste of freshly caught meat, small though it was.

Knocking over another garbage bin with a loud crash, the yellow-green beast dug through its rubbish with gusto in his search for intact food scraps.

Unbeknownst to him, his clawing and scratching had attracted the attention of two unwelcomed visitors.

"Look at th' size of 'im," said the shaggy looking man.

"Ugly sucker, too," replied his companion.

"T'inks we can catch 'im?" eagerly asked Mr. Shaggy, " 'magine what' it might be worth."

"Yeah. But how's we gonna do it? And what's we gonna do wi' its whens we gets it?" asked his friend.

"I dunno, but I knows a guy tha' can uses it, and we gets paid good."

The two unruly men began to try quietly sneaking up to Anaheim as he was otherwise occupied with consuming trashed leftovers, but it proved in vain as one of them stepped on a piece of refuse that made a crunch under his foot.

Anaheim looked up at the noise and snarled at his would-be stalkers, giving them a good scare as his eyes glowed blood red.

"Whoa! It's one o' dem monsters people talks 'bout!" cried Mr. Shaggy's friend.

Through his frightful state, Mr. Shaggy became more excited as he said , "It'll be wort' lots more! Git 'im!"

They both made a jump at Anaheim, but the olivine colored beast was too fast for them despite his large size. He leaped at them with astonishing speed and bowled into them, knocking Mr. Shaggy to the ground and grabbing his friend's throat with powerful jaws to then shake him violently like a ragdoll and finally snapping his neck; he shrieked for only a second or two before going dead silent.

Seeing what Anaheim had done to his friend, Mr. Shaggy stood in frozen shock for only a moment as the large gargbeast snarled at him.

"No! Stay away, don't eat me!" Mr. Shaggy screamed as he began running away.

All too often in nature, especially for humans, when the brain begins experiencing the fight or flight instinct, what is all too often overlooked is the simple reasoning of never make any sudden move or run in sight of a hunting predator.

As the shaggy hobo ran like a bat out of hell for his own survival, Anaheim's own instincts told him to chase.

The hobo did not run very far from a faster creature on four legs and roaring behind him, and was certain he was going to die as he felt a few painful nips at his heels from the yellow-green monster trying to bring down his prey, which made Mr. Shaggy try to run faster from it, driven only by instinct.

For Anaheim, it was an invigorating rush to chase down this weaker creature to overpower and claim it for his own, for truly this had to be his element.

Just as the gargbeast was certain he was about to bring down his prey, he suddenly felt a painful sting in his left rump and became overwhelmed by a sleepy grogginess that made Anaheim stumble over his feet and slide a few feet on the pavement.

The last thing the clone beast could remember before losing consciousness was seeing the hobo continue to runaway, and the silhouette of a man came into his view brandishing a rifle as he said,

"You're mine, monster."

Not far from where Anaheim had fallen, just above the skyline two gargoyles glided closely together searching for the wayward beast.

"Where is it?" Demona hissed in frustration, making Typhon glance at her with a slightly raise brow ridge.

"Perhaps we will have a more efficient chance of finding the beast if we do some tracking on the ground," the crimson gargoyle suggested, making Demona give him a sharp look but still agreed to it.

The blue and red gargoyles landed on an empty street not too far from where Anaheim had fallen to a mysterious gunman, each looking for any sign of a clue to his whereabouts.

As Demona examined one side of the deserted street while Typhon looked for clues on the other side, every minute or so the flamed haired female found her gaze wandering over to the crimson warrior and could not help but admire his stocky build which greatly enhance and accentuated his red blood coloring and long yellow-golden mane. Many times in the last few years she has seen the bright golden illumination of the Sun in all of its celestial glory, but now its shine now seemed to pale in comparison to this male.

When Typhon seemed to sense her piercing gaze upon him, we would quickly turn to Demona to return it to then see her quickly turn away as though shy, making a small smile form on his handsome face. She is indeed a fascinating female with a bright blue coloring that must be the color of a morning sky and a red mane like fire from the forges of Hephaestus and a temper to match.

Why she was unmated, he did not know, and it was personal information she was not yet willing to reveal to him.

After several more minutes of seemingly futile searching, Typhon turned back to Demona to say, "I find nothing over here, I fear the beast is lost."

"No," Demona yelled, "We will find it, we must."

Typhon gave her a sad look as he said in a low voice, "He hurt you a great deal, didn't he?"

"I told you," she growled, "I never want to speak of that."

"I know," he said patiently, "But you don't have to stay in this human infested city that causes you so much pain, and being so estranged from your clan. When I find Icarus, you can come back to New Olympus with me and be part of my clan."

Demona looked at Typhon with a bit of a stunned look, but remained serious as she said with an undertone of interest, "Thank you, Typhon, that's very generous, but I. . ."

She was suddenly interrupted by a loud crash and rustling from a pile of garbage bags in a side alley between two average looking buildings. Looking to see what was making the noise, the two gargoyles entered the alley and Typhon easily tossed away two large garbage bags to find a shaggy looking human cowering behind the mound.

"Don' eat me, don' eat me!" he cringed frightfully, making Typhon give him a distasteful look.

Something about this human's behavior caught her attention, and as much as it deplored Demona to do so, she asked with a hard edged tone, "Why are you hiding, human?"

"D-de m-monster, i' try ta eat me," Mr. Shaggy stuttered in fear, "i' killed Eddie, den chased me an' tried ta eat me."

"The beast, where did it go?" Demona demanded as Typhon stepped back and turned away with his brawny arms crossed over his barreled chest.

Demona grabbed the shaggy human by the front of his shirt and easily brought him nose to nose that she could smell his foul unwashed human odor.

"Where?" she growled loudly as her eyes flowed fiery red, and she could smell Mr. Shaggy soil himself.

He could only squirm and whimper as he was held up by the angered Demona as she prepared to claw him to death with her formidable talons, but something inside of her told her to stop and her eyes lost their raging glow.

The thought of Angela seeing what she was about to do to this helpless human, pathetic though he is, somehow made Demona ashamed of herself, when once there had been a time she would have killed him at first sight.

She let go of Mr. Shaggy's shirt as he slipped from her grasp and he landed hard on his bottom as Demona said dismissively, "You're not worth it."

Mr. Shaggy shuddered as he pointed to the outside street and stuttered, "Da monsta chased me out dere, and den s'me guy wi' a gun shoot at it and took I' away in a big truck. Dat's all I knows, I swear."

As the gargoyles made their way to the part of the street Mr. Shaggy had pointed at, the frightened hobo ran in the opposite direction, having had his fill of monsters for a lifetime.

Demona kneeled down to the pavement and felt around while Typhon simply asked,

"How are we to be certain that human didn't just lie to us?"

"One thing I've learned about humans," Demona said, "is that when motivated by fear they can be quite honest enough, a trait that makes them useful at times as well as a bane."

Demona carefully examined the scene as she touched the pavement with her talon tips, and could make out the faint but recent whiff of combustion fumes with her superior sense of smell.

It was a lead at least, as the detective would put it.

But where to go from here?

Ordering Typhon to remain silent, Demona drew in all the concentration she could muster, for without a proper magical conduit she will become greatly exhausted performing such a seemingly simple spell.

When she drew in all the energy she could, Demona chanted in Latin, opened faintly glowing turquoise eyes, and opened her palm to release a beam of mystic energy that formed into the scene which had occurred earlier.

Indeed, Anaheim had been shot but not killed, the gunman stood over him waiting as a big van drove up to him and the unconscious Anaheim as two more men gathered up the gargbeast to place him in the back of the van, and drove away.

Demona chanted again as a path of pale blue-green light formed behind the energy truck for the gargoyles to follow.

"That way," Demona said in her trance as she followed the light path, Typhon following close behind her.

****On a train to the Bronx

Chasing the rambunctious pup through the city streets had given the elder gargbeast a thorough workout he had not expected nor experienced for years, dashing about between startled humans in one way or to another, all while Nudnik was entangled in a chain of uncooked hotdogs that had been stolen.

Now, Bronx and Nudnik were on a big metal serpent, traveling to where, he did not know, but he was sure will be well outside the clan's protectorate. They had run to a place where these great metal serpents stop to empty of crowds of humans and take in more, only now none would board the great metal serpent at the sight of seeing two gargbeasts running aboard as the last crowd of humans disembarked.

For the pup it had all been a game, dashing about between humans who side stepped away from the racing gargbeasts to avoid a bodily collision to then race aboard the unmoving great metal serpent and gaze outside the crystal transparent window with his little paws pressed against it to leave small smudges, and his tongue happily and excitedly lopping out at anticipation of the ride.

Now, Bronx gave an exhausted pant, out of breath from Nudnik's playful chase yet still gave the pup a growl and snare of irritation at his lack of discipline. This made Nudnik sit on his haunches, bow his head in shame and give a low whimper.

From that moment on, they were to stay together while Bronx led them back home after they leave this great metal serpent.

Bronx had rarely, if ever, ventured out of the clan's island protectorate, the longest being when he was with Leader, his mate, and the hatchling when they went to places that were not home. He always knew his place was with the clan, comforting elders and guarding hatchlings with his fellow beasts. Sadly, now they were gone and he has seen so few beasts like himself, such as the female Boudicca on the magic island, and much less a hatchling like this one who is now part of the clan. This is why Bronx must fiercely guard him now as they make their way home.

Having eaten the hotdog link to renew their strength, they emerged from the great metal serpent some time later in a place like home but not home. At least this time, home was closer than when he traveled.

Bronx sniffed around the ground for a minute or two, determining which way to go, then gave a low huff to Nudnik to stay close and began walking in a direction that may lead them home.

Though the borough for which the dark blue gargbeast had been named had undergone a great renovation and revitalization in recent years, for everywhere Bronx gazed his eyes fell upon a great metal arm humans used to lift a big metal piece a few gargoyles could easily lift, there were still some areas of the borough that were still dangerous and were always to be avoided. Unfortunately, the elder and younger gargbeasts had wandered into such a neighborhood, for Bronx sensed it will be the quickest way home, though he remained greatly wary of his surroundings while Nudnik whined low with fear.

As they walked together down the road, every now and then Nudnik would get distracted by a sound from a passing alley stray cat or other stray animals, but Bronx softly huffed at the pup to stay close. Yet as they made their way deeper into the rundown neighborhood, Bronx sniffed at the air as though sensing something hostile.

Growling deep from his massive chest, Bronx looked closely around at his surroundings; decrepit buildings in disarray and in great need of refurbishment or would be granted a mercy at being torn down or burned to ashes as part of the borough's common place arson occurrences, and a greatly cracked and breaking street in great need of repavement, and all around repulsive ugly markings of graffiti painted the walls of the buildings in a sad imitation of modern art work.

To an average human eye there would appear to be nothing, but for a species of gargate with enhanced senses, something or someone had caught Bronx's attention.

Looking hard around himself, Bronx placed himself between the whimpering Nudnik and the potential danger. Unfortunately, he did not see it coming in time when he suddenly felt a sharp prick in his rump from a dart and he began to feel groggy as some sort of sleep spell overtook him and he fell to his side, fighting to stay conscious.

Seeing what happened to Bronx, Nudnik became scared enough to run away but suddenly ran into the tight grip of a stranger who rapidly tied his muzzle shut tightly with a rope so as he could only whimper loudly, and then quickly hogtie all four of his legs together, which the pup could not even break free of.

Moaning as he tried to stay conscious, Bronx could only make out fuzzy shapes and shadows, yet felt himself be placed in a rather big cage and could hear humans speak to each other.

"I thought these things were supposed to have wings," one said.

"These are obviously those monster dogs word on the streets also tells about," another said, "Either way we're gonna make good off o' 'em now. Imagine what they'll be like in the ring. Now let's get goin'."

There was a small bodily thump as Nudnik was thrown in with Bronx and then the sound of slamming doors before Bronx finally lost consciousness.