LA RP- Unsupervised Child

The uneasiness of the pack lingered even into autumn, pervading the cool air and hanging about their heads. Their damaged leader had made little appearance, and words spoken of her were in mixed favor. Had he been there, Fletcher would have pursued the fiend even into hell.

How could anyone harm their leader like that? And how had the pack allowed it? He was baffled that search parties had not been sent out to retrieve the attacker. Fletcher had made a point of patrolling the boundaries twice as frequently as he always had before, in case the dog ever returned.

He dutifully marched through the high grass and shrubs, mostly disappearing beneath. All that was visible was a high-flying tail erect as a bean-stalk, and the shuffling of the greenery.

Puerta had wandered off, not caring whether or not Blacksheep was following. His wound had pretty much healed by now and he would soon have to come to a decision to remain in the pack or not. Now that Alexis was willing to come with him, it seemed to complicate the decision even more.

In the distance, Puerta could see the shaking of the grass and a tail sticking out. The short member that that tail belonged to could be none other then Fletcher. He began walking over, then, in an attempt to test the limits of his healed side, he broke into a sprint.

"Yo, Fletcher." Puerta spoke, as he made his way into the deep grass. "Don't you go drownin' in that grass now."

Fletcher lifted his head up just high enough so that his eyes peaked over the blades. Just as swiftly, his brows furrowed into a scowl. Although he had not been present at that trial, word had spread fast about Puerta's disobedience to the leader.

"You, scoundrel," Fletcher huffed. "Don't think that I haven't heard everything already. Shouldn't you be begging for forgiveness or learning humility? At the least, aren't you supposed to have an escort?"

Puerta had already anticipated a harsh reaction from one of the packs most loyal members. He leaned forward, bringing his chest to the ground as he stretched out his torso.

"Begging? I don't think so! You're welcome to try, learnin' me some humiliation if you like. Got nothin' better to do today." Puerta chuckled. "Blacksheep might be around here somewhere, I don't know. Isn't she the one who's suppose to be keepin' track of me, not the other way around? If she doesn't show up soon she's probably napping."

Fletcher wrinkled up his nose, glaring from between his forelocks. "I would consider it your responsibility to stay within her. You are the one meant to be inconvenienced, not the the other way around. And if you want /humiliation/ I'm afraid you've humiliated yourself plenty already with how you acted. I'm not sure how worse of humiliation you can get, as you're already being babysat like a child."

"Aw come on! Why would you insist I be off learnin' it then?" Said Puerta pacing around in circles in order to flatten the grass around him. "Whatever. I've been thinkin' about leaving anyway. You all would be better off anyway, right? Seems that way seeing as how everyone's been acting."

Fletcher was mentally preparing a speech explaining the differences between humility and humiliation, but never quite got the chance to deliver it. As much as he disliked Puerta Reese for his flagrant disrespect, he was still a member. And as long as the leader didn't declare him to be a threat or sentence him to exile, then he had to follow through as he would with any pack member.

"Just because you have made a fool of yourself and a disgrace to our leader, doesn't mean you need to run off with your tail between your legs. That's what a child thinks when they've been scolded. Because children don't know how to deal with their problems, so they run away from them and wait for mom and dad to fix it," he said with a huff, flattening some grass with his front paws.

"You can get back into the good graces of the leader and prove yourself not a fool to the pack. But instead you're just digging deeper into your own damn hole. And now you realize how deep the hole is and you want to run away from it. Like a child."

"I hate how you keep saying that! I'm obviously not a damn puppy! I'd get in the graces of the whole damn pack if I had any idea how. Except for dying according to Blacksheep, but that's not gonna happen." Said Puerta. His good friend Alexis didn't seem to have a bit of advise on the matter.

When Puerta was satisfied by the flatness of the grass, he sat down. His forehead wrinkled at the condescension he sensed in Fletchers words. He began chewing at the scar that still itched. He was surprised it managed to eventually heal at the rate he piced at it.

"Seriously, what the hell am I suppose to do?" Asked Puerta.

"Not act like an asshole, for one," Fletcher replied. "I am sorry for using such language but it is the only word I can think of. You act like an angry child all the time. What do you even have to be angry about? We have food, we are safe, we are not at war with anyone. So why are you fighting everyone? What is there to fight over? You acted like an ass in front of the leader, made a mockery of the rules and the pack, and now you're acting like you're the victim? After killing another dog?"

Fletcher took a step into the flattened patch, letting the light hit his face. It took a lot of restraint not to show his teeth. "I don't know why the leader hasn't turned you out, but I trust her judgment. What I don't understand is why you're not grateful for being alive right now."

"How am I suppose to act nice to everyone if they act like an asshole first?" Said Puerta, his lip twitching in response to Fletchers second dialogue, and repeated accusation that he was a child. None of these suggestions ever seemed like they would even work to Puerta, even if he could pull them off.

"All right, you know what? I guess it couldn't hurt to try! I'll just act flaky as hell for a while and see if they all magically like me! What have I got to lose right? I'll start right now! I fuckin' love you man! How 'bout I give you a big kiss?" Asked Puerta loudly. His tongue rolled out of his mouth and slowly began leaning closer to Fletcher.

Fletcher put up his paw and pushed Puerta away, flashing his teeth as he did. Everything was a joke to Puerta; it was no wonder no one liked him.

"See? You can't take anything seriously!" snarled Fletcher. "I try to help you and you just make a mockery of it! Everyone treats you the way they do because you've never given them a reason to act any different. Can't you even act like a respectable dog for even a moment?"

Puerta ceased his hassling at the sight of teeth showing through Fletchers mustache.  "So you don't swing that way?! Aight!"

"And you take things way too goddamn se-" Started Puerta, before biting his tongue. Fletcher was right, retaliating further was just going to dig him into a deeper ditch. He supposed it couldn't hurt to catch some more cats for his packmates and keep his jaw shut. Well it might, but cat scratches heal. Puerta huffed, glaring at his feet.

"Okay, well, I'm sorry Fletch." Puerta muttered, volume dropping slightly at the word 'sorry'. He clenched his teeth, and the skin of his face grew hot under his fur. He felt like melting between the thick blades of grass. If only he was small like Fletcher. Maybe he would climb a tree and hide in the leaves later.

Fletcher became flustered and gave a loud huff, raising his nose up indignantly. "My sexual preference has nothing to do with the matter at hand."

He watched the large dog shrink some, and catch himself on his own words. That was a fairly large step for the arrogant naive, and Fletcher thought it only polite to at least acknowledge the small step towards improvement.

"Well," he said with an airy voice. "Thank you for apologizing." Fletcher thought for a moment before adding. "So why exactly did you come all the way out here in the first place?"

"Yeah. Well sometimes you can find those little rodents running around in the grass here. They scratch less then cats." Replied Puerta, sniffing the air. Fletchers response eased his tension a little. "They're a pain in the ass to catch though."

"I would rather a rat over a cat any day," Fletcher said with a nod of agreement. "Cats are haughty creatures. And they can jump to very high places."

High places, like deep mud and water, were the bane of existence. It was worse than having an itch you couldn't quite reach, or having the hair over your eyes become painfully matted.

"But you're going to get in worse trouble once Black Sheep finds you've wondered off without her."

"I guess.. you're right." Said Puerta. He jerked his head over his shoulder as if Blacksheep was standing behind him glaring. "Maybe I can find like a, a bird nest near her or something."

Puerta began turning in the direction he came from and licked his nose. "See ya later."

Fletcher's tail shot up like a pole. "Don't get yourself into too much trouble, Puerta. And take care."