//------------------------------//
// Ch.11 the Desert Part 2 
// Story: The Epic of a Diamond Dog 
// by Ravencrofte 
//------------------------------//

Ch.11 the desert part 2

        We stared at each other across the expanse. A gust of wind kicked up a cloud of dust in the barren land between. The ghastly bird let out a brief cry. All else was silent. 

        A drop of sweat ran down my brow and into my eyes. 

        “Did you know,” said Scrap casually, producing a small jug and a long, black whistle from the pouch on his hip, “that Diamond Dogs have no magic of our own? And that we must harvest it from other sources?” 

        I eyed the dog warily. Kitty Hawk huddled against my side.

Scrap continued, slowly pacing back and forth. “The Mystics told me all of this, just before they killed several clan prisoners and created this bird.” He indicated the silent condor. “And, according to the mystics, ponies are full of magic.” 

He took a moment's pause, then looked me straight in the eye, a rather manic grin spreading across his muzzle. “Don’t you get it? That’s what makes ponies so valuable. They are a living magic source. That’s why they won't let you leave, especially with…” Scrap fell silent, searching for the right word.

“It!” he finally declared, pointing at Kitty Hawk.

I tightened my grip on my sword. With my other paw, I withdrew my sling. A low, threatening growl rumbled from my throat. Kitty Hawk pressed herself into my side.
        
“Let’s just get this over with,” said Scrap resolutely, “then I have to go find a new clan.”

My ears perked up at his statement.

“You have to find a new clan?” I asked. 

Truthfully, I didn’t care about his answer. Instead, I used the time to search the ground for a nice rock. I spotted one within easy reach and said a silent prayer of thanks to my ancestors. 

Scrap glared at me. “Thanks to you. When I returned last night, without Rapid Ranger or Blood Bath, not even your head to show for my deeds, I was branded a coward and banished.” He pointed at his chest, concealed by the armor he wore. 

I had seen a coward's mark once before. The branded mark of a hoof and a leaf would forever be imprinted on a dog's hide. Those two symbols conveyed a simple message: “Here is a dog only worthy of being prey”. 

Scrap continued. “The mystics found me and offered a chance at redemption. I may always be a coward, but after I kill you, I’ll be a rich coward.” He drew the whistle to his lips and blew. 

The whistles’ unholy screech set my fur on end and my stomach to rebel. I managed to keep my breakfast down, but only just. Kitty Hawk was managing to do the same, but when she saw the dead birds around us begin to wiggle, she puked and then clung to my leg in terror. 

Not only had the birds been summoned by that sound, but all manner of dead things: the small animals from their underground burrows, the fish from the river, even the nightcrawlers from under the rocks and fallen brush. They jerked, twitched, then as one slithered their way to Scrap like leeches to a bleeding fish.

Everything about this was wrong. 

In an instant, I decided to put a stop to it here and now. Snatching my pre-selected stone from the ground, I loaded it into my sling and took aim. Scrap was a perfect target, completely oblivious to my action. 

The dog in question now uncorked the jug and tilted it over the nearest corpse. From its mouth, he spilled an inky-black liquid that shimmered in its own darkness. The liquid engulfed the corpse and sprouted up around it. A body rose up from ground, much the same texture and color as the condor, in a form that could only be described as a Shadow Hound. 

It fixed its eyes on me.

I stared back, frozen as I was, my mouth hanging open in a silent scream. My eyes remained wretchedly open, forced to drink in its every horror. The Shadow Hound only stared back with unfocused, empty eyes. It opened its mouth to reveal rows of jagged teeth, breathing  wisps of blackness. All the while, black flames licked over its body.  

Suddenly the spell was broken.

 I fell to my knees, gasping. “Ember,” cried Kitty Hawk as she huddled at my feet. I pulled her in close. Her small frame shook uncontrollably in my grasp. 

She looked up at me with her eyes wide in terror. “Please Ember,” was all she said. She stared at me, imploring me to do something, to make it go away. I smiled reassuringly at her, speaking with more faith then I felt. 

“I’ll protect you,” I said.

Tearing myself away from Kitty Hawk, I set my sights on Scrap.

“You like it?” he asked, staring at his creation with morbid infatuation. Slowly, he reached out and began to pet it. “This will be your doom,” he said, never taking his eyes away from the Shadow Hound. “And then I will take your pony...she doesn’t need her wings.”

“No,” I growled. 

Once more I whipped the sling over my head. It cut through the air at dazzling speed. Taking a deep breath, I roared my challenge: “I will not let you hurt her!” In one fluid motion, I stepped forwards and sent my missile hurtling at Scrap’s head. 

He looked up, just in time to see my stone fill his vision. The Shadow Hound leapt between, taking the stone in its side with a wet “smack”. It tumbled from the impact, rolling to a stop at Scraps’ feet. 

        Scrap watched the Shadow Hound for a long moment, then threw his head back and laughed. His cackle made me shift uncomfortably from foot to foot. When he recovered himself, he looked even more manic than before.

“You might want to try again,” said Scrap. Sure enough, the Shadow Hound was already rising back to its feet. It turned to face me once more, but now with a chunk missing and my stone clearly visible in its body. Licking his lips, Scrap uttered two words: “Kill him.”

The Shadow Hound charged. I leapt forwards, my sword out front. It went for my throat, mouth agape and showing all its teeth. I slashed out and took its head cleanly off as it passed. 

Even as its head fell to the ground, the Shadow Hound had spun around and this time slammed into me, throwing us both to the ground. I threw it off and rolled to my feet. The headless dog charged again. I slashed out. Its front legs left its body, and the rest of it crashed to the ground.

Now how do I kill this thing?

I looked on, watching the Shadow Hound flounder in the dirt, kicking its remaining legs as it tried to get at me. In the middle of its body was the corpse of a bird. On a hunch I drove my sword into said corpse. 

The hound exploded.

 A cloud of ash obscured my vision for a moment. Steam and vapors rose off in wafts. When the air cleared, the only remains of the Shadow Hound was a black stain on the ground.

“Is it gone?” asked Kitty Hawk. She was trying to peer around me, all the while remaining several feet away.

“It is,” I said. 

With that taken care of, I turned my attention back to Scrap. He was still smiling.

 “You’re a mad dog,” I spat. 

Scrap smile only broadened at the insult. “Mad? Oh, poor Ember, you’re such a fool. You're a dead dog walking. I’ll simply take that pony after I’m finished shredding your bleeding corpse.”

I growled at him, pointing my sword directly at him. “You have threatened Kitty Hawk and myself for the last time. Now it’s my turn. I will end you!”

Scrap laughed again. Without a word he tipped his jug over two more corpses and a pair of Shadow Hounds rose up in their place. “I forgot to mention,” said Scrap as he made yet another hound, “ that all it takes is one of these to kill you. Their bite, although not instantly fatal, will kill you in four days. If I was you, I’d run. You see? This is where you die.” By the time he had finished speaking, three more hounds had joined his ranks. 

I felt my courage fall as my enemies rose up before me. My heart quickened; my lungs were already gasping for air. I sheathed my sword and turned my back on the enemy. Kitty Hawk was looking past me, fixated on each new Shadow Hound that appeared. 

I scooped her up and onto my back. 

“Ember, what do we do?” asked Kitty Hawk as she clung to me.

“The only thing we can do: Run!”