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Feathers

Dash hated digging. Strange thing for a dog, sure, but she hated it all the same. She didn’t mind the dirt, or the sweat, or the smell, that all went with any kind of hard work. No, she hated the slowness. Soil wasn’t so bad, the stuff you could move by paw, but stone was the worst. Blow by blow, her pickaxe chipped away stinging flakes, every inch a battle of minutes or even hours. What she wouldn’t give for a drill!

“Stupid rock.” She sighed and slumped against the tunnel wall, dropping her pickaxe in the dirt and wiping a paw across her brow. There was a reason nobody’d tried to dig into the Arfberta sheriffs department before, and that was the thick granite of the cave floor. That and there was nothing in there worth breaking into. At least, not usually there wasn’t.

Dash hefted the axe back in her paws, and resumed driving the hardened steel into the stone, gritting her teeth at the sting that ran back up her arms. A part of her was honestly a little proud she’d thought to dig most of the tunnel years ago, back when she was convinced there was a secret stash of surface evidence locked in the beat up old station. That was before she’d realized how far out in the ass end of nowhere she was. If there were secret surface treasures, they were obvious stashed in central Quebark. Still, tonight that tunnel was coming in use.

“Come on you stupid...” She grit her teeth and slammed the axe in harder, her muscles and joints burning from the effort. Narrowing her eyes, she just drove herself further. She was sick and tired of this stupid wall. Sick and tired of this stupid city. And sick and tired of flipping digging!

Her axe smashed through the wall with such force that it whirled from her grasp, sailing through the air to smash against distant metal. She stared for a moment at the blinding light, then howled in triumph. She jumped forward, into the main cell of the Arfberta sheriffs department. It was a small thing, gray granite walls, an old set of rusting bars, and a narrow hallway leading down to what was probably the sheriff's office proper.

But none of that mattered, because the important thing was the cell itself. Her eyes quickly swept the dull gray interior. There was a toilet, a small cot covered in a filthy burlap sheet, and absolutely nothing else. Her face twisted in a frown. She was absolutely certain she’d heard the deputy saying he’d bring ‘it’ to the empty cell at the station. Had they already moved it? Was she too late?

“Something’s happening! Get the keys!” She heard the fumbling of metal in paws, but paid it no mind. Instead she swept the cell again. She squatted down to look under the cot. She jammed her paw in the toilet bowl and rummaged around. She even yanked the sheet off the bed, seeing if somehow they hadn’t stolen a pancake from the surface.

“You! Stop!” Dash paid the authoritative bark about as much heed as she ever did. Instead of rolling over like a good dog, she rounded on them.

“Hey! What gives?!” She turned on the sheriff and deputy, a bulldog and pinscher looking sort respectively, and shook the bedding at them. “What? Are you running a bust on crappy sheet smugglers? Where are the surface treasures?”

“What?” The two dogs fixed their eyes on the sack like she was waving a severed head at them. “Where is it?! What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything! Here!” She whipped the sheet at them. “See? Still right here just like I found it! Seriously, you guys are the worst...” As the rough fabric left her paws, a flash of something caught her eye. It was the palest violet she’d ever seen, edged in deeper tones of indigo and rose. Long and light, it fluttered in the air, until she snatched it with her paws. She eyed it with awe for a moment, before brandishing it with a mocking smirk. “Looking for this?”

“What? No, what is?” The two dogs seemed confused for a moment, sharing a glance. “You, stop! That’s police property!” They frantically started jangling their keys, fighting to jam them in the cell lock as fast as they could.

“Not anymore, finders keepers!” She stuck out her tongue, and dived back in the hole, tearing down it like a whippet. She might not be the best digger, but nobody with paws could beat Dash on the run. She flew through the tunnel so fast, she couldn’t even hear them by the time she kicked aside the garbage can she’d used to cover the tunnel entrance. As soon as she was clear, she grabbed the can and upended the trash into it, digging around in her pants for a set of lampsticks. She struck one, the smell of burning phosphorus teasing her nose, and dropped it down on the pile of garbage filling the tunnel. “Hope you boys weren’t ‘hot’ on my tail.” She snickered to herself, and turned away from the now burning hole, taking off down the streets.

-=-=-

It didn’t take her long to reach her apartment, not that it ever took her long to get anywhere. Luckily, one of the perks of having your own place was that there wasn’t anyone around to ask why you were covered in dirt and garbage during lights out. She dug out her keys and worked the lock, not for the first time feeling a little bit bad as she smeared grime on the once polished knob. The place was better than she should have been able to afford, or even wanted to afford for that matter, but there were certain ‘responsibilities’ with old money. Responsibilities she shirked as often as she could bear.

She flicked on the lights, the dull hiss of gas filling the house as the lines opened up. Most of the house was left barren, a consequence of Dash’s discomfort with it. She’d never felt like she’d needed more than a bed and maybe a dresser, and in the back of her mind she’d always knew she’d just be leaving the place someday. Still, her mother had insisted she live there, at least so she could be in a ‘safe’ part of town, so she obliged.

For the moment, however, she pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind, instead racing up the stairs to her bedroom. She threw open the door, and darted over to the dresser, hauling out the top drawer and eagerly shoveling out the clothes within. Behind them, her claws brushed against old leather, and she quickly hauled it out and onto the dresser top.

The heavy, leatherbound journal had been her father’s, returned to her after his ‘accident.’ The official story was that they’d dug him out of a cave in, suffocated while he’d charted a new tunnel. The journal was supposedly his last demented ravings, as he ran out of air in the dark. She knew better though, she knew he’d seen something real.

She undid the cord that held it closed, and began rifling through the pages. Inside were stories of a place without a roof, where space just stretched upwards and upwards. Where gasless light simply fell from above, and lights like diamonds sparked in a depthless infinity. Where green plants covered every surface imaginable, and strange ephemeral creatures sang and darted between trees that formed a roof of their own. And sometimes, sometimes lights the color of every gem imaginable would fill the sky. A rainbow.

She set her newfound prize on the desk beside her, and quickly flipped to the descriptions of the creatures. It wasn’t a bug, she could tell that much, and she knew that the scurrying things had fur like a dog, or like the moles that sometimes broke into the tunnels. She stopped as the page fell open on one of the flying creatures, it’s long, frilled arms studded with the spitting image of what she’d found. She felt her mouth go dry.

“They actually found something. They found something from the surface.” She backed up, then immediately started to pace. “It’s real, it’s true, it’s all true! They found something, and...” She played back the events in her head, her eyes going wide. “They lost it! They lost it! It’s somewhere down here and they lost it!” She felt her heartbeat pick up, and nearly tore out the door, actually having to catch herself on the frame. “Wait, Dash, wait. Think. Think first.”

She turned back to the book, and began reading the entry in detail. The creatures were small, easily panicked, and spent most of their time in trees. So, if one of them had just escaped capture, where would it go? There was only one place with trees in Arfberta, the farms. There would be light, trees, and better yet, they’d be totally abandoned during lights out.

There was the bang of a door being kicked down.

It occurred to Dash that breaking into a sheriff's department while being the only dog in town with a bright rainbow mane might not have been the best idea.

In one smooth motion, she grabbed her messenger bag, rammed the journal inside it, then pulled the window open and hopped out. As cool as it would have been to dive out it, the smashing glass would probably have told them where she was. Also possibly cut her to pieces. Let it never be said Dash didn’t leave some considerations for safety.

As soon as her paws hit the dirt, she knew she was home free.

-=-=-

The Gardens were quiet during light’s out. Even though they technically ignored the city wide ordinance about lit hours, didn’t mean dogs got to hang around them at night. Something to do with union regulations or something, honestly she’d never paid much attention. Not that anyone ever actually bothered to enforce the rules. All the food was harvested as soon as it was ready, and anydog with unripe food on their breath could be easily pegged as a thief. That left the delinquents, and who would honestly try and sneak off to the only well lit portion of the city at this hour.

Just the same, she did have to dodge one guard before vaulting the fence into the gardens.

Honestly, she’d never much liked the gardens herself. Sometimes good for a quiet nap, most of the time just depressing. She’d stare at the sickly green trees, and think about the passages her father wrote, the way he made the greens seem so much more alive than what she could actually see and feel. She sighed and pushed the thoughts back out of her head again, instead focusing on the groves of trees and crops.

She closed her eyes, letting the silence of the grove surround her. There was a stillness you could find sometimes in Arfberta, without the murmur of crowds, or the flow of water, or even the barest brush of air. A perfect, complete silence. Into which intruded the single rustle of a branch.

Dash was off like a bolt. The same instant, that rustle exploded into the snapping of branches, but it was too slow for dash. A great twisting mass of purple and white was all she registered as she leaped into the air, paws outstretched. They closed on fur and something she couldn’t quite recognize, and with a startled shriek from her quarry, the two of them tumbled to the earth.

For a few seconds, everything was flailing limbs and claws, and Dash barked out in pain as one scored a deep gash along her leg. Finally, her fingers closed on what had to be its throat, and the whole creature went stock still. Panting and gasping, Dash finally got a look at the thing from above. It was bigger than anything in her father’s book, fur and those strange paddle shaped hairs mixed together on its body. More, it looked up at her with eyes that weren’t just scared, but intelligent.

For a moment, time itself stood still.

Author's Note:

WHO'S READY FOR MORE INTERESTING CONCEPTS, RUSHED PACING, AND ULTIMATELY ABANDONED PLOT LINES

IF YOU SAID "ME" THEN YOU'RE IN THE RIGHT PLACE FRIEND

IT'S GOOD TO BE BACK

Also, have a little bit of relevant griffon for reference, courtesy of HowlArt:

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Umbra Animo

Umbra Animo #1 · Dec 24th, 2018 · · ·

Soo a au were dash is a diamond dog cool

Ze1a7in

Ze1a7in #2 · Dec 24th, 2018 · 2 · ·

"Arfberta"? "Quebark"? What, is this story set in Canida?

Jokes aside, I think you have something with real potential here. Only time will tell if this story becomes a diamond in the rough or a cubic zirconia.

And if you're worried about rushed pacing? Considering exactly what Dash did at the start of the chapter, a faster pace fits. I would need to see more to determine if the pace is rushed here.

Iamsorry