Bark With Me

(October 8th, dawn so anyone in previous threads can jump in. Open to all dogs from the heroes.)

Mooch's limbs ached from all the walking he'd been doing. Back to the pridelands and out into the wilderness. He'd hurt a buck, he'd almost ripped that boastful dark male apart. Then he'd been ripped a new one by Bambi himself. Mooch knew Bambi'd enjoyed seeing him give into the sheepdog herding instincts that were within him. Mooch knew his father, his birth father, had been used as a hunting dog as well. So were those his bloodlines running together? Mom the champion herder and Dad the prey killer? Mooch shook his head as the sky floated lightly with misty rain. He didn't sit and enjoy it however. He just kept pressing on.

Slender limbs carried him pretty far before they screamed at him to stop. So he did finally, sitting beside a tree which was barely standing. He looked up to see the colorful birds putting together their nests. Family. They were protecting their families. Which was what he thought he was doing.

His eyes closed as he grunted, trying to choke back him embarrassed tears. What was he? A dog?

Or a deer?

(ooc: Just going to say that Dug left Kovu's death thread, soo... Wheeee~)

Ears perked and head tilted to the side, Dug couldn't help but observe Mooch with a quiet sort of reservedness about him. He wasn't familiar with the sheepdog, but he did know that he looked bothered by something. Dug couldn't have that. So, the pudgier canine trotted over and looked Mooch over. Dumb as a doorstep though he was, Dug knew when he was likely needed. This seemed to be one of those times, and the Golden Retriever was going to do his best to help.

"Um... Hi there," Dug said. His voice was low at first, so as not to startle Mooch, and be tried nudging the sheepdog ever so slightly with his large nose. He knew it was dumb to ask if something was bothering him. Dug didn't want to be snapped at for asking such a question, so he decided to try a different angle.

"Do you want to talk? You look down..."

Partner was being stealthy.

Or, at least, he hoped that was what he was doing. Ever since his talk with Merlin a week or two ago, during which the idea of becoming a scout had been planted in his head, the dalmatian had been doing the best he could to practice sneaking around fairly undetected, and trying to do as such without looking too foolish into the bargain.

Right now, he was creeping along on his belly outside the safety of the Pridelands. Mostly to get away from the distractions that were all too plentiful back in the camp, what with people rushing about everywhere and Crescent hardly leaving him alone for two seconds at a time. He felt a little stupid, practicing stealth out where his white fur stood out like a sore thumb against the savannah landscape, and also nervous being away from the Pridelands all on his own; but contented himself with the reassurance that no-one would bother him; he was too small a target for an enemy to see value in attacking.

At least in theory.

It was as he tried to brush through a particularly thick clump of grass with as little noise as possible that a voice broke into Partner's concentration, and the dal instinctively raised his head to see where it was coming from. Some way ahead, he could see Mooch, the sheepdog from back home, accompanied by an overweight golden retriever who was the one talking. Deciding that at this moment, seeking safety in numbers was no bad idea, Partner abandoned his attempt at stealth and padded over to the duo. Not sure if he was intruding on anything, the younger canine held his silence for the initial moment, sort of hoping one of them would acknowledge him first.

Cadpig was walking around the grasslands as well. She had a lot on her mind. She looked toward Mooch, Dug, and Partner, she walks a bit over to them. Cadpig could see Mooch looked a bit down, and Cadpig didn't know how to cheer him up. Frankly, she didn't think anything, she could say right now would help Mooch, not unless she could magically turn Mooch into a deer. (If that's even what he wanted to begin with.] So for the moment she just kept quiet giving a friendly nod of Acknowledgement over to Dug. She was there just in case any of them wanted to talk.

Even now, Tramp still felt like an outcast among the heroes, largely unwelcome in the camp. As a result, he spent most of his time out in the grasslands. A rather lonely existence. But one he'd brought onto himself. Still, the chance to mingle with some dogs was a welcome one, so he padded closer to the small group.

As he approached, it was obvious this wasn't exactly a social gathering. His son's friend, Mooch, looked upset. Very upset. Tramp silently walked up, and sat down beside the younger grey mutt, nodding to the other dogs. He knew Dug by description, but not personally. And there were so many Dalmatians running around he didn't even bother trying to keep track of their names.

"Sometimes, it helps to share your troubles with others," he said quietly.

Sparky wandered the grasslands without much thought. He had been through so much in so little time that he need time to process it all. All his siblings that were dead, but he told himself that no more would die while he was in this war.
Then he herd voices coming his right and pushed those thoughts out of his head. He walked over.
He saw Mooch sitting on the ground, Cadpig, some golden retriever, and a larger silver furred dog, all looking glum and sad. At that moment Sparky knew he was in company of other mourners of the dead and let those thoughts come back to him.
"Sometimes, it helps to share your troubles with others," He heard the large silver dog say.

"I couldn't agree more," He said looking at the ground sadly.

Mooch's head tilted forwards, lowering slightly as Dug appeared. His eyebrow raised as the doofy dog's collar spoke for him. He snorted. "Don't you know you can like...actually talk?" He shuffled at the dirt.

"It's...I don't really wanna-"

A flurry of fur appeared. Three sets of spots and a blend of grey that wasn't Scamp. He lifted his head towards the dogs who approached. Cadpig among males. Wasn't that always the case.

"Hey Partner, Cadpig," he clucked, "Scamp's Dad." He didn't know the last dal's name. He sighed.

"Sometimes it is," he said gruffly, "But crises of identity are sometimes mad stupid. So they're better to shut up about."

He sat down, lowering his head to his chest. "Just..." He trailed off, unable to finish. He didn't really want to ask them to leave him alone.

Cadpig felt absolutely sad for Mooch. She knew exactly what he was talking about. Mooch just would probably deny it, but she could see a bit of Spot's problem with Mooch. A chicken who wanted to be a dog, and all the chickens trying to talk Spoy out of this but , according to Spot she was a dog trapped in a chicken's body. Mooch probably felt the same way about being a deer.

Cadpig could have launched into the same speech that she had given Spot about this problem, in fact the only thing stopping her from that, was that she was pretty sure, he didn't wanna hear that from her, so she just sat quietly.

The huge Great Dane pads over to the group of dogs he knew something was wrong from the look on the sheepdogs face. "Hey there" he says gently as he walks closer towards Mooch "you look down, what seems to be troubling you?" He asks cocking his head.

Sparky didnt really care that mooch didnt know his name, he kind of enjoyed it. Made it easier on him to dissapear. He considered Mooches words carefully for a few momments. It was a little obvious that mooch wanted to be left alone but sparky knew all to well what it was like to mourn. He never knew his real parents, and the sadness of not knowing his mother and father used to drive him crazy. But one day he openned up to the other pups and those thoughts vanished. He though that if he could get Mooch to do the same he wouldnt be so misserable.
"But shutin' up dosent realease the pain, it allows it to fester until one day you go mental from it." Sparky knew he probably sounded crazy, i mean this was nowhere close to his expertise, but a little Cadpig had probably rubbed off on him after all, but he meant every word.

"Crisis of identity? Is it to do with... you know... your dad?" Partner regarded Mooch kind of quizically, remembering what he had said about the Great Prince. He didn't mean to pressure the other canine into talking - if he was the sheepdog, after all, he would rather have discussed such issues privately with a friend rather than when a whole crowd was listening in - but nor did he want to appear disinterested. Not that he could imagine Mooch picking him, of all people, to talk about whatever was troubling him, but he figured the thought would still count.

He shrugged, glancing at Mooch with a silent offer to help if there was some way he could. He wasn't sure he really thought of the sheepdog as anything vastly close to a friend, but talking to Mooch about Annabelle that one time had taken a huge weight off his shoulders, so the dal was willing to return the favour, if possible.

(ooc: short post, sorry ^^; Couldn't think of anything else to add.)

Mooch winced. His dad. Shouldn't his Dad have four paws, grey fur and long ears? He slumped down, head over his paws with a sigh and a groan. "I just wish I wasn't...confused."

He tilted his head giving an annoyed yellow blazing look towards the other spotted pup. Partner and Cadpig, those two he was familiar with. Granted he'd just warmed up slightly to Partner when he'd joined the war, the two torn apart by the death of loved one. Distinct personalities littered Partner and Cadpig's coats which made the female and male set apart from the other spotted dogs.

"I'm just nothing," Mooch clucked, "Unfortunately the only guy who was gonna teach me nothin' got torn apart by a goddamn leopard. Oh and the other one left me on the farm. So I'm not a dog, I'm not a wolf, I'm not a deer. I'm...nothing."

He hated the pups to see him weak. He was the coolest thing ever still...wasn't he?

"Now, Mooch" she started and moves a bit closer to mooch with a sigh most likely getting herself ready to tell Mooch how she felt on the subject. " Now I know how you feel, you lost someone extremely important to you, so it's only natural that you'd feel worthless and vulnerable. But, Mooch you're not nothing. You're special Mooch, the great prince loved you and you loved him.

You feel lost, like you don't know who you are. Let me tell you who you are, you're Mooch, one of the coolest, pups on the Dearly farm. Your heart is gonna tell you who you are. You gotta listen really close sometimes in order to hear it, but deep down your heart will tell you who you are. One thing is for sure, whatever you are it's not a "nobody" You're a somebody mooch and always have been" Cadpig said.

If it were possible, Dug's expression softened more as he listened to Mooch explain his problems. Not a dog? But from every angle, the sheepdog looked very much like a canine. Not a wolf? Dug may not have been the brightest bulb in the box, but he had the vaguest notion that wolves were the ancestors of dogs. ...Or something along those lines. As for being a deer, Dug didn't pretend to understand that much. The pudgy canine tilted his head slightly to the side and whimpered in his confusion. It was Mooch's final statement that got Dug talking again.

"I do not think you are nothing. You have to be something! You are here. Being here means that you are something. ...I think," Dug said. It was kind of confusing, and as he spoke Dug kept tilting his head and lapping his tongue against his own nose in thought. It was probably a ridiculous sight to behold, but there it was. Dug was trying to be intelligent, even if it wasn't working, and he wondered if his words were helping in the least.