He couldn’t see it very clearly, but he could make out the
curly hair well enough. It was a large dog. Its fur was a dusty grey. It was
matted and had some prickly plants sticking in it. It ran at a good speed. From
its large build, it must’ve been a stray of sorts. After a few minutes of
running, he figured the beast wouldn’t come back around his home.
He stopped his chase and began to catch his breath. He
looked up and hissed. He was farther away from his home then he expected to be.
He turned to walk back and froze as he felt something holding onto his fire
poker. He slowly turned his head to get a look at what had grabbed a hold of
his weapon.
Giant almond eyes stared up at him. The dog now held the
fire poker with its large paw. But the paw looked more like a fuzzy human hand
then it did a paw. His eyes widened as he counted the five distinct fingers
that gripped the poker. Before his brain could process everything, the dog
stood on its hind legs and leaned in close to his face. Its breath was hot and
smelled of fresh berries.
What an odd scent for
a dog’s breath. He thought as he was assaulted with the scent.
“You’re the Corraidhín[1]?”
It sounded more annoyed then angry. It let out a puff of hot air in his face. “I
guess it can’t be helped.” It hoisted the young boy up with its other hand. He was
now dangling mere inches from the beast’s face. It turned and began to cart him
off into the woods.
His brain that had been screaming, “RUN!” finally got
control of his body. He screamed as he tried to swing the figure poker. The
poker made contact, but because of his size, it did no damage.
“It’s not nice to hit people.” It grabbed the iron bar and
tossed it away.
He felt his freedom slip away with the echoing thud of iron
on wood.
[1]
Ancient Irish, means “Little Spear”
A little bit more from the thing I'm attempting to write for NaNoWriMo
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