Bootsy & Pompadour
A fairly handsome young man was sitting in his cabinet, a candle lighting the warm room. His legs were crossed and his back arched relaxed on his chair. He had been occupying himself with yet another book, all while tending to his jet black raven hair. After all, this pompadour would not take care of itself.
He had been listening to the live feed from the radio. Suddenly, he sighed. It seemed he just couldn’t catch a break now could he.
“Good grief, it seems Silva is going at it again.” He complained in mild irritation. Depending on how things went, he might have to interfere. Papa wolf did not like needless violence, and no one wants to be chewed out by papa wolf.
An old man dressed in a furry dog suit nodded excitably, panting excitedly and wagging his tail like a pup. Does that mean we get to play too? He woofed gleefully.
The pompadour man shook his head and smiled. “I’m afraid no.” Then he dropped his book on his face and pulled back his head. “Whoever decided to come is going to have a bad time. Honestly, that guy is troublesome. I’d rather never have to fight him.”
The fur suit wearing man drooped; disappointed that he wouldn’t get the chance to try his new toys. He woof woofed in confusion.
But you’re the strongest in the world! There’s no way you’d lose to the likes of him, you’re not that weak!
Pompadour laughed shortly. Well, he wasn’t wrong. Bootsy’s honesty was something he had always found endearing. Something about his childlike mind was almost refreshing, like he had managed to cling to his humanity despite everything. That much hadn’t changed; even now they were pack brothers.
“You’re right, but Silva is a tricky one. He’s not the strongest, the fastest or the most durable of us. He has no particular skill or knowledge, and he isn’t very smart. So why do you think he has managed to make his way to the top of the pack?” He asked in good humor, trying to pique his costumed friend’s curiosity. In response, his companion whimpered for a moment before shrugging. Pompadour smiled and put the book down on the table. He raised his hand and lifted his index in front of Bootsy.
“There is only one reason, it’s his reflexes. He cannot act in a conscious manner; he simply lets his instincts take over. Think of Silva as a plane in autopilot. While one would normally to perceive a threat and react to it, his instinct is greater than any of our kin, at least as far as I know. His body reacts automatically before he can think, or rather, without thinking. However, this is a double edged sword, because it is a reflex that he cannot control or hold back. That means that he has no choice but to react, even if it puts him in a worse position.”
Bootsy listened with eyes wide in awe. Pompadour was so amazing, he always knew everything, and he was strong and cool and brave! He saved his life when he was in that labratorey, so he was his best friend forever AND his only big bro! He had other big bros, of course, but Pompadour was his favorite.
“Let’s go make things don’t get too ugly.” He said, buttoning up his school uniform. The costumed man nodded and barked happily and picked up his toy before following along. Yayyyy!
Notorious D.O.G
The rapidly growing beast didn’t flinch at the half-breed mongrel who charged at him. By the time his hand neared his neck, a massive paw had already slammed into his stomach with strength far beyond even the most incredible of creatures, a fantastic force scrambling his innards and sending him flying towards the other disgusting slab of meat.
“Is that all you’ve got?” He snarled.
