HOME | DD

Description
The boy has messy brown hair. Messy, as in, oily with bits of dirt chunked in it. His eyes are beady, and colored light brown. His shirt looks like a seven-year-old pillow case—something that used to be white but was now a sort of yellow. He had been introduced as "Kevin".

The boy that stood on Kevin's right was named Carl. Carl had messy blond hair, like Kevin. His eyes weren't really beady, just normal. They were blue—kind of pretty. His skin was pale, but had black smears covering it—most likely soot.

On Kevin's left was a boy with black hair. He had plain, dark brown eyes. His skin was pale, too, with bruises along it. His biceps were prominent for his age, and I was intimidated right away. His name was Lance.

The boy behind Kevin had red hair. It was short, and very curly. He was always scratching at his head—leaving me under the assumption that he had lice tangled in his little curls along with dirt chunks.

Kevin leans in closer to my master and I lower my head. In my throat, I growl. Kevin glares at me, but backed up.

"My name's Vomit." He motions to the blond boy. "This here's Dirt." Then, he points to the black haired boy. "This is Bo. Stands for 'Body Odor'." Then, he moves to point to the red haired boy. "This is Lice."

He sticks his arm out and points at my master, his finger an inch away from his nose. "I dub you…Booger." He says plainly. Then, he moves his beady eyes to me. "And her new name is Flea."

The boys split, and go to their corresponding beds. There's six of them in the small circular room—one of them is empty. My master goes to the one that had been given to him and sits on it, feeling the scratchy but thick blanket. I rest my muzzle on his lap, and he strokes my head with a small smile.

"We'll be alright, Echo." He says to me. I sit, and give him a small whine to show that I don't believe him. "Dad said that as long as I'm with you, I'll be okay…" He says. His face is sad. I lift my head and lick his face, like it'll make him be happy again.

He laughs, and pulls me off.

"Hey! Booger! Shuddup over there!" Vomit yells. "It's time for bed! We need our sleep so shuddup!!"

My master, Booger, I guess, pats my head. "Good night, Echo." He says. Then, in a firmer voice, he says, "Down."

I obey, and lay down.

The next day, small bits of light stream through the small windows at the top of the room. I had been awake a while before—Lice's loud coughing woke me. About an hour after the sun rises, a loud buzzing noise enters the room. I stand and bark up at the ceiling in shock. The old children rose slowly, but my master flew out of his bed in surprise.

He caught his breath, and looked around the room to observe the others. They make their beds, and head out of the room. My master follows, and I follow my master at his heels.

We march out of the room, down some stairs, down a small hallway, and to another door. Before my master enters, he turns to me.

"Sit." He says. I sit. "Stay." He says. I stay.

After a while, they all come out in new clothes and fresh hair. They walk past me—I follow--to another side of the room, and open a door there. We go through what seems like a maze, and eventually find ourselves in a large open room. The walls and ceilings and such are all made purely of concrete. We are on the second floor of the large room, on a sort of balcony. There are men in uniforms holding guns around the room. Vomit leads us to the railing to overlook to the ground floor below. I stick my head through two of the poles to see what's going on.

There's an industrial sized door at one end of the room. A small distance away from the large door is a dog sled. There's ten dogs attached to it in pairs of two. The breeds of the dogs range from Alaskan malamute's to a Samoyed and Chinook. The sled is piled with boxes that are strapped securely. A husky man walks to the sled, steps on the footboards and grabs the handlebar. The large door begins to open. The dogs begin barking, and pulling on the traces. The door opens up so that there is six feet of space open above the ground. The scenery outside is made of nothing but snow.

"Hike!" The man yells. The dogs lurch forward, and pull the sled out of the room. The door closes again.

I then realize that Vomit and my master had been talking. Vomit is talking calmly, but with a dominant tone. I pull my head out from between the poles, and step between the two.

Vomit scoffs. "Stupid dog…" he mumbles.

They walk off, but my master hesitates. He looks down at me, rubs my ears affectionately, and follows. We go to the end of the room and head down a staircase. When we get to the bottom, we are in the room we had been looking down on. There are men shouting orders to each other, and walking briskly from one door to another. One of the men catches sight of us, and Vomit steps forward to address him.

"These two are the new guys." He says. The man grumbles at Vomit, and pushes past him to my master. "What's your name, kid?"

"I'm Eric." He says. I see Vomit shake his head and mouth the word "booger".

The man looks at me now. "What breed? Husky?"

"Yessir." My master says.

"Hmm…odd coloration…"

"Her mother was an all white husky, and her father was white and red."

The man leans down to my level and feels the light red fur on my back. I am almost completely white. My back has a delicate mix of white and light red fur that trails off into white along my sides. More light red fur is on my head, the top of my tail, and my ears.

He pets me for a second before asking how healthy I am.

"She's fed just right with top of the line kibble. She takes top of the line medicine when she needs it, and she's never gotten ringworm or anything of the like. She get plenty of exercise, too."

"Sounds good." He says, standing. "You two will be put into the transportation squad. She'll pull, and you'll learn to be a musher."

"A…musher?" My master asks.

He nods. "Take her this way."

"Have fun, Booger!" Vomit yells. "Don't get frostbite!"

The man leads us to another door. Inside is another sled, with dogs getting attached to the towline. Two other men are in the room, one loading supplies onto the  sled and one attaching a dog to the Towline. The man attaching the dog comes to us when he's finished.

"This is the new one?" He asked.

"Yeah, and your new underling."

"Alright, then. Thanks, Bill."

"Yep."

Bill leaves, and the man takes me by my collar to lead me somewhere. I writhe, uncomfortable with the feeling.

"She'll follow you; you don't need to drag her like that." My master says.

The man stops and looks back. He stares at my master for a while, and then releases me. He keeps walking. I follow.

He leads me to the back of the room, and measures me in various ways. Then, he grabs a harness and puts me into it, adjusting it here and there. Then, he leads me to the Towline. I take a moment to observe what dogs I'm with.

This line isn't in pairs, like the previous sled had been. We're lined up single-file. First after the sled is a female Canadian Eskimo Dog—white with dark brown ears. Second is a male Northern Inuit with basic grey and black colors. Third is a male Seppala Siberian Sled dog—tan underbelly and face with a black back and tail. Fourth is a male Tamaskan, with light grey and black fur. The fifth spot is empty, which is where I am most likely headed. Sixth is a female husky with grey and red fur. Seventh is another male Tamaskan with normal coloration. And eighth—at the front of the line—is the alpha male, an Utonagan.

I get clipped in the fifth spot, and my master is called over to the sled.

"This here is the brake," The man says. They continue on for a while, the man talking about what to do in certain situations. I pull my tail between my legs a bit, and sniff at the feet of the husky in front of me. She shakes her body, but does nothing to keep me from smelling her—a good sign. I look back at the Tamaskan behind me. He's sitting down, bored.

"Do you get it?" The man says.

"Yeah, kind of. It's very new to me…" My master says. The man laughs.

"You'll learn quick enough on the trail. Now then, your father said that your dog hasn't had any sledding experience?"

Negative energy came from my master. "Correct. She hasn't had any prior experience."

The man sighs. "Listen, kid." He says. "You're in with the big boys now, sure, but...stop using that flowery language, it's freaking me out. Anyway, the name's Darren. My right hand man over there is Nelson. You'll be living with us till you turn twenty and either move out of the factory, or take on your own sled team."

"This is your team?" My master asks, surprised.

Darren laughs. "Mine and Nelson's, yeah." He points to the dog in front of the sled. "See her? That's Lady. She's been in that there spot for three years now. We got her and Bruce, the one in front of her, together. Third in line, Harry, he's a good boy. Real smart, learns quick, pulls great. Prince there, behind your dog, he's going to retire in a year or so. He's gettin' real old. Then, of course, there's Echo. We put her in front of Prince so that she learns quicker—he'll snap at her heels when she does something wrong. Then there's Abigail—the alpha female of the group. Hahaha, and boy does she know it! She's got quite the stuck-up attitude on her. Second to front is Lazarus, strong boy there.  He'd been the lead dog for three years, before Buck got here. Buck's been here for only about five months. He's amazing though—that dogs part demon."

He leans closer to my master. "Listen, kid…watch your dog around him, huh? If a fight breaks out, you start screamin', you hear? Buck'll tear her apart."

I would have growled to make him think differently, but such an action would make Abigaile and Prince—not to mention the rest of the team—nervous.

"Well, I'm all done up here." Nelson says, dusting off his hands like they were dirty. "You ready to move out?"

"Sure." Darren says. He lifts my master up with his strong arms, and sets him down on the boxes. "But first we need to get the kid geared up!"

It took a while for Nelson and Darren to find the thick and thermal clothes needed for cold snow travel. After, my master was instructed to sit on the boxes and hold on tightly, and rest his back against the wood that connected the handles of the sleigh.

"Alright everybody!" Darren yells. "Gee!"

The team pulls to the right, and by the time I realized what was happening and had started to react, Prince was snapping at my left heel. I put my body weight to the right, and follow what the others had done.

"Hike!"

Buck leapt into the traces—Lazarus and Abigaile with him. Anxious about what would be happening in the near future, I do as they did and leap forward into the traces.

"Haw!"

Buck, Lazarus, and Abigaile turn left to face the door, and I do my best to do the same as soon as I realized what's going on. Of course, snipping from Prince helps a little.

"Whoa, whoa up there…" Darren shouts. Buck reluctantly slows.

"You alright, Echo?" My master says, loud enough for me to hear.

"Sshh!" Nelson says. "Leave her be, she's just fine!"

"Open the doors!" Someone shouts. The doors start open, and barking erupts from the team. Their excitement passes to me, and I join in the noise.

"Line out!" Darren shouts. The three dogs in front of me pull forward into the traces, enough to get them taut.  Then, they adjust themselves to straighten the line. I am amazed at how they can sense where the line is crooked. Darren sighs. "It'll be a while before Echo learns that one." He says.

"Alright everybody!" Darren shouts. "Hike!"

The dogs lurch forward, and I with them. We fly out of the warm room and into the harsh winter air. Rich with enthusiasm, we speed along the trail. Nelson, running along the side, keeps pace well for a human—only lagging behind a very small degree.

Description
The boy has messy brown hair. Messy, as in, oily with bits of dirt chunked in it. His eyes are beady, and colored light brown. His shirt looks like a seven-year-old pillow case—something that used to be white but was now a sort of yellow. He had been introduced as "Kevin".

The boy that stood on Kevin's right was named Carl. Carl had messy blond hair, like Kevin. His eyes weren't really beady, just normal. They were blue—kind of pretty. His skin was pale, but had black smears covering it—most likely soot.

On Kevin's left was a boy with black hair. He had plain, dark brown eyes. His skin was pale, too, with bruises along it. His biceps were prominent for his age, and I was intimidated right away. His name was Lance.

The boy behind Kevin had red hair. It was short, and very curly. He was always scratching at his head—leaving me under the assumption that he had lice tangled in his little curls along with dirt chunks.

Kevin leans in closer to my master and I lower my head. In my throat, I growl. Kevin glares at me, but backed up.

"My name's Vomit." He motions to the blond boy. "This here's Dirt." Then, he points to the black haired boy. "This is Bo. Stands for 'Body Odor'." Then, he moves to point to the red haired boy. "This is Lice."

He sticks his arm out and points at my master, his finger an inch away from his nose. "I dub you…Booger." He says plainly. Then, he moves his beady eyes to me. "And her new name is Flea."

The boys split, and go to their corresponding beds. There's six of them in the small circular room—one of them is empty. My master goes to the one that had been given to him and sits on it, feeling the scratchy but thick blanket. I rest my muzzle on his lap, and he strokes my head with a small smile.

"We'll be alright, Echo." He says to me. I sit, and give him a small whine to show that I don't believe him. "Dad said that as long as I'm with you, I'll be okay…" He says. His face is sad. I lift my head and lick his face, like it'll make him be happy again.

He laughs, and pulls me off.

"Hey! Booger! Shuddup over there!" Vomit yells. "It's time for bed! We need our sleep so shuddup!!"

My master, Booger, I guess, pats my head. "Good night, Echo." He says. Then, in a firmer voice, he says, "Down."

I obey, and lay down.

The next day, small bits of light stream through the small windows at the top of the room. I had been awake a while before—Lice's loud coughing woke me. About an hour after the sun rises, a loud buzzing noise enters the room. I stand and bark up at the ceiling in shock. The old children rose slowly, but my master flew out of his bed in surprise.

He caught his breath, and looked around the room to observe the others. They make their beds, and head out of the room. My master follows, and I follow my master at his heels.

We march out of the room, down some stairs, down a small hallway, and to another door. Before my master enters, he turns to me.

"Sit." He says. I sit. "Stay." He says. I stay.

After a while, they all come out in new clothes and fresh hair. They walk past me—I follow--to another side of the room, and open a door there. We go through what seems like a maze, and eventually find ourselves in a large open room. The walls and ceilings and such are all made purely of concrete. We are on the second floor of the large room, on a sort of balcony. There are men in uniforms holding guns around the room. Vomit leads us to the railing to overlook to the ground floor below. I stick my head through two of the poles to see what's going on.

There's an industrial sized door at one end of the room. A small distance away from the large door is a dog sled. There's ten dogs attached to it in pairs of two. The breeds of the dogs range from Alaskan malamute's to a Samoyed and Chinook. The sled is piled with boxes that are strapped securely. A husky man walks to the sled, steps on the footboards and grabs the handlebar. The large door begins to open. The dogs begin barking, and pulling on the traces. The door opens up so that there is six feet of space open above the ground. The scenery outside is made of nothing but snow.

"Hike!" The man yells. The dogs lurch forward, and pull the sled out of the room. The door closes again.

I then realize that Vomit and my master had been talking. Vomit is talking calmly, but with a dominant tone. I pull my head out from between the poles, and step between the two.

Vomit scoffs. "Stupid dog…" he mumbles.

They walk off, but my master hesitates. He looks down at me, rubs my ears affectionately, and follows. We go to the end of the room and head down a staircase. When we get to the bottom, we are in the room we had been looking down on. There are men shouting orders to each other, and walking briskly from one door to another. One of the men catches sight of us, and Vomit steps forward to address him.

"These two are the new guys." He says. The man grumbles at Vomit, and pushes past him to my master. "What's your name, kid?"

"I'm Eric." He says. I see Vomit shake his head and mouth the word "booger".

The man looks at me now. "What breed? Husky?"

"Yessir." My master says.

"Hmm…odd coloration…"

"Her mother was an all white husky, and her father was white and red."

The man leans down to my level and feels the light red fur on my back. I am almost completely white. My back has a delicate mix of white and light red fur that trails off into white along my sides. More light red fur is on my head, the top of my tail, and my ears.

He pets me for a second before asking how healthy I am.

"She's fed just right with top of the line kibble. She takes top of the line medicine when she needs it, and she's never gotten ringworm or anything of the like. She get plenty of exercise, too."

"Sounds good." He says, standing. "You two will be put into the transportation squad. She'll pull, and you'll learn to be a musher."

"A…musher?" My master asks.

He nods. "Take her this way."

"Have fun, Booger!" Vomit yells. "Don't get frostbite!"

The man leads us to another door. Inside is another sled, with dogs getting attached to the towline. Two other men are in the room, one loading supplies onto the  sled and one attaching a dog to the Towline. The man attaching the dog comes to us when he's finished.

"This is the new one?" He asked.

"Yeah, and your new underling."

"Alright, then. Thanks, Bill."

"Yep."

Bill leaves, and the man takes me by my collar to lead me somewhere. I writhe, uncomfortable with the feeling.

"She'll follow you; you don't need to drag her like that." My master says.

The man stops and looks back. He stares at my master for a while, and then releases me. He keeps walking. I follow.

He leads me to the back of the room, and measures me in various ways. Then, he grabs a harness and puts me into it, adjusting it here and there. Then, he leads me to the Towline. I take a moment to observe what dogs I'm with.

This line isn't in pairs, like the previous sled had been. We're lined up single-file. First after the sled is a female Canadian Eskimo Dog—white with dark brown ears. Second is a male Northern Inuit with basic grey and black colors. Third is a male Seppala Siberian Sled dog—tan underbelly and face with a black back and tail. Fourth is a male Tamaskan, with light grey and black fur. The fifth spot is empty, which is where I am most likely headed. Sixth is a female husky with grey and red fur. Seventh is another male Tamaskan with normal coloration. And eighth—at the front of the line—is the alpha male, an Utonagan.

I get clipped in the fifth spot, and my master is called over to the sled.

"This here is the brake," The man says. They continue on for a while, the man talking about what to do in certain situations. I pull my tail between my legs a bit, and sniff at the feet of the husky in front of me. She shakes her body, but does nothing to keep me from smelling her—a good sign. I look back at the Tamaskan behind me. He's sitting down, bored.

"Do you get it?" The man says.

"Yeah, kind of. It's very new to me…" My master says. The man laughs.

"You'll learn quick enough on the trail. Now then, your father said that your dog hasn't had any sledding experience?"

Negative energy came from my master. "Correct. She hasn't had any prior experience."

The man sighs. "Listen, kid." He says. "You're in with the big boys now, sure, but...stop using that flowery language, it's freaking me out. Anyway, the name's Darren. My right hand man over there is Nelson. You'll be living with us till you turn twenty and either move out of the factory, or take on your own sled team."

"This is your team?" My master asks, surprised.

Darren laughs. "Mine and Nelson's, yeah." He points to the dog in front of the sled. "See her? That's Lady. She's been in that there spot for three years now. We got her and Bruce, the one in front of her, together. Third in line, Harry, he's a good boy. Real smart, learns quick, pulls great. Prince there, behind your dog, he's going to retire in a year or so. He's gettin' real old. Then, of course, there's Echo. We put her in front of Prince so that she learns quicker—he'll snap at her heels when she does something wrong. Then there's Abigail—the alpha female of the group. Hahaha, and boy does she know it! She's got quite the stuck-up attitude on her. Second to front is Lazarus, strong boy there.  He'd been the lead dog for three years, before Buck got here. Buck's been here for only about five months. He's amazing though—that dogs part demon."

He leans closer to my master. "Listen, kid…watch your dog around him, huh? If a fight breaks out, you start screamin', you hear? Buck'll tear her apart."

I would have growled to make him think differently, but such an action would make Abigaile and Prince—not to mention the rest of the team—nervous.

"Well, I'm all done up here." Nelson says, dusting off his hands like they were dirty. "You ready to move out?"

"Sure." Darren says. He lifts my master up with his strong arms, and sets him down on the boxes. "But first we need to get the kid geared up!"

It took a while for Nelson and Darren to find the thick and thermal clothes needed for cold snow travel. After, my master was instructed to sit on the boxes and hold on tightly, and rest his back against the wood that connected the handles of the sleigh.

"Alright everybody!" Darren yells. "Gee!"

The team pulls to the right, and by the time I realized what was happening and had started to react, Prince was snapping at my left heel. I put my body weight to the right, and follow what the others had done.

"Hike!"

Buck leapt into the traces—Lazarus and Abigaile with him. Anxious about what would be happening in the near future, I do as they did and leap forward into the traces.

"Haw!"

Buck, Lazarus, and Abigaile turn left to face the door, and I do my best to do the same as soon as I realized what's going on. Of course, snipping from Prince helps a little.

"Whoa, whoa up there…" Darren shouts. Buck reluctantly slows.

"You alright, Echo?" My master says, loud enough for me to hear.

"Sshh!" Nelson says. "Leave her be, she's just fine!"

"Open the doors!" Someone shouts. The doors start open, and barking erupts from the team. Their excitement passes to me, and I join in the noise.

"Line out!" Darren shouts. The three dogs in front of me pull forward into the traces, enough to get them taut.  Then, they adjust themselves to straighten the line. I am amazed at how they can sense where the line is crooked. Darren sighs. "It'll be a while before Echo learns that one." He says.

"Alright everybody!" Darren shouts. "Hike!"

The dogs lurch forward, and I with them. We fly out of the warm room and into the harsh winter air. Rich with enthusiasm, we speed along the trail. Nelson, running along the side, keeps pace well for a human—only lagging behind a very small degree.