|
|
Post by ::Fox:: on Mar 4, 2010 18:48:28 GMT -6
The city felt almost unnaturally quiet. For a crisp autumn day, the streets were vacant and there were no children laughing in the alleys between apartment buildings. The source for the quiet? Well, they had to be human reasons, unfathomable to a canine. That was why Kyrie didn't bother wondering about it. He was cautious of it but, he didn't look for an answer. Kyrie, a tall, long-haired whippet, kept to the shadowy alleys between buildings and moved briskly so he wouldn't attract too much attention. Being a tall, willowy, snowy white dog however, Kyrie doubted that he could ever go completely unnoticed. If anyone would ask the willowy canine, he'd say quite plainly that he hated being so obvious. How many humans would forget seeing such a unique looking dog wandering around in the streets? If he made enemies among the minor gangs or big dog packs, Kyrie knew he'd be screwed because he stuck out like a black lab in a room full of golden retrievers. Even if he got muddy, Kyrie always turned out being easy to spot because of his body structure with the high hips, defined head, floppy ears and long sharp muzzle. Sometimes genetics just weren't fair.
Creeping through the back alleys toward an abandoned apartment building, Kyrie paused to test the air with his nose. Everything in this part of town smelled like garbage, filth and dirty river water. The older parts of town sometimes had hints of dust or old battles as well but here, the scents were mainly old and faded, nothing threatening. Still, being naturally a cautious, withdrawn brute, Kyrie proceded with care.
Leaping easily up the crumbling concrete steps to the main entrance of the old building, Kyrie reared up onto his hind paws to push on the door with his front paws. The chipped green paint on the wood flaked under his claws, wood easily giving under even slight pressure. The doors swung open to show the white canine exactly what he'd expected: the entrance hall to an empty apartment building. The hall was lit with dusty sunlight that filthered through dirty windows in and around the main door. On the right side of the hall was a staircase that looked ready to collapse at any moment. Also on the left and right of the hall was an arched doorway on either side leading into side rooms. Kyrie could only guess what they'd been for since humans were such strange creatures.
As he turned his head, Kyrie revealed the one part of him that wasn't solid, untouched white. Around Kyrie's left eye was a faded, dusty patch of tawny fur that extended around his left eye and covered his entire left ear. The pale tawny and white that encompassed either eye set off the dark brown hue and seemed to add to his elegant, serious face. It was another unique feature that make Kyrie so easy to spot in a crowd, quite literally. He would have maybe preferred solid white or solid tawny even but, genetics didn't work like that, yet again. They didn't mold to petty vain desires.
With light steps, Kyrie crossed the hall, ignoring the dust that coated his paws from the worn wood. At the staircase, he stopped and looked up. There seemed to be only about three or four landings overhead, not surprising since the building was pretty old. The newer places where humans lived were usually a lot taller. What made the long-haired whippet stop was the staircase itself. It was worn and some of the steps looked ready to give out under the slightest amount of weight. After looking over the incline with a critical eye, Kyrie turned away from it. Turning to face the doors he'd left open, Kyrie debated for a moment before turning to his left into one of the side rooms. He was mildly surprised to find sheet covered furniture still sitting in the room in front of an empty fireplace. The sheets were covered in dust and, since he didn't really want to get dirty, Kyrie pulled the sheet off of one of the couches. It was an odd shade of tea blue-green with decorated arms and an arched back that reminded Kyrie of a stretching cat. Leaping up onto the cushins, he tried not to wrinkle his nose at the musty, dusty smell. It was more comfortable than lounging on the ground at least, it probably smelled better too.
Curling up, the tall brute tucked his willowy legs onto the couch with his back against the back cushions. His tail flopped over his curled hind legs, front legs folding so his front paw pads faced his belly. Laying his head on the cushion, Kyrie closed his eyes. Sunlight from the window behind the couch he lounged on warmed his white fur gradually, easing the brute into a quiet little doze.
|
|
