Just Because

March 4th open to Dante & Laron 

Today was just a day get away from it all. Black paw-pads crunched across the earth as he walked across the tall grass into the inky blackness. He wasn't sure if it was day or night, but he didn't care at the moment. He just wanted some time for himself, away from Reggie, from Fish, from the other dogs in their little make-shift pack. Laron flopped to the side and rolled onto his back, grunting in pleasure. He missed doing this. Opening his eyes, he stared up at the pitch black, starless sky.

The silver dog stirred in his sleep, as he felt Clopin shift in his bed. An accidental kick caused Dante to wake up, and he gently rose, stepping away from his master without waking him. The wolfdog was happy to be reunited with his king once more, but he would have been lying if he said he didn't notice something...off about his old friend.

Ever since Clopin's sudden return a day ago, Dante sensed that something had followed him. Of course, he sat and listened as Clopin told him where he really had been all these months, and of the places he saw and the people he met. While it was all fantastic, Dante couldn't shake the feeling that there was a dark presence in the tent with them. And he knew that whatever it was, it was certainly attached to Clopin, because wherever he happened to be, it would follow.

Just what was in those old books Clopin had brought back?

He had to know. Dante slowly padded over to the desk Clopin usually set his hat upon, and he rose onto his back legs, setting his front paws on the desk. He grabbed the nearest book, and set it in front of himself so that he could read through it.

No...I can't.

Dante spent a few moments staring at the book, fighting with himself over whether he had any right to open it or not. This was Clopin, the one man he trusted the most. He had to trust him, and he couldn't allow himself to jump to conclusions. Whatever Clopin was doing...it had to be for the greater good. It always was.

Dante sighed, and pushed his way out of the tent for a breath of fresh air. He made his way out of the camp, and into the grasslands. After walking about aimlessly, buried in his own thoughts, Dante noticed a figure lying in the grass. He shifted into a stealthy position, as he was unaware of this was friend or foe. He slowly crept closer, emerald eyes focused solely on the target ahead.

The lab mix's ears twitched at the sound of grass crunching under feet. He twisted his body, and in one swift motion he was on his stomach, quickly pushing himself up to his paws, muzzle wrinkled in a defensive posture. Brown eyes widened in shock at he came face to face with his fellow gypsy dog. The brown mutt's mouth dropped open before he managed to form words.

"Dante? What on earth...how are you here?"

Dante's emerald eyes widened as he realized just who he was sneaking up upon. The brown lab mix standing before him was none other than Lars, another of Clopin's dogs. His eyes widened as well, as the two made eye contact.

"Lars?"

At the other dog's question, the wolfdog backtracked a bit. He cocked his head, and looked at the lab mix curiously.

"Whatever do you mean, mon ami? Didn't you follow our king as well? We are his dogs, no?" Dante asked.

"Clopin has returned back to the heroes' camp! Why haven't I seen you around?" Dante inquired, as he took a few steps closer to Lars.

"What do I mean? What do YOU mean?" The lab walked forward, his brow creasing in confusion as he came to a stop some feet away from his old friend and fellow gypsy dog. "Why would I follow a man who betrayed his own people?" Lars looked at the other dog with a mixture of disgust and confusion, but soon enough he got his answer.

"Clopin has returned back to the heroes' camp! Why haven't I seen you around?"

"Oh, now he's back? About time!" Laron's hackles rose at the words. "I'm not with the Heroes, Dante" he whispered softly, as if he was slightly ashamed at himself. But why should he be? As far as he knew, his king, no, his ex-king had left his people, his gypsy clan. People died after he left, Hell, word came back to him that Claire, the girl who would sometimes feed him her scraps of food, was killed in this stupid war.

"I'm pretty sure I'm not the dog of a man who lets HIS people get killed while he's off doing god knows what," Laron growled softly.

Dante's jaw locked, and his brows furrowed. Had Lars gone mad? The silver wolfdog's fur began to ridge along his spine, and his emerald eyes flashed as Lars spoke. He looked more like a wolf than a dog. Dante took a step forward once more, staring at Lars down his muzzle.

"Watch your tongue, mon ami. He was trying to get information from the human villains, as a double agent. And he would never ever let his people...OUR people get killed!" Dante snarled.

He had always thought that Lars had more respect for the man who had rescued them. But it seemed that it wasn't so.

"Clopin left because he had to, as our king! He died for us, you insolent fool! And he came back to life, knowing he, and that only he, could protect us. Claire did not die in vain. Clopin was always by her side, and the one moment that she wasn't in his sights, that is when she perished!" Dante growled.