Mallorquin

Why was he doing this? Wouldn't it just be better to hunt? Couldn't he look after himself? Mallorquin sniffed the air in case there was any dog or cat food lying around. He heard the barking and howling from the "Pound" and tried to close his ears to the sound. For a while Mallorquin had considered deliberately getting caught just to have another Master again, but after talking to some local stray he decided to live on his own. He sort of liked it this way. He could defend himself, unlike some of the other strays, and Mallorquin had to admit that he sort of liked the independence of it all. But life as a stray was always changing. Mallorquin didn't mind change, he just didn't love it. What happened to just protecting Master? That was his only mission until Master left. Now he wasn't sure what his mission was or if he had one at all. It was all very confusing for Mallorquin.

Andar

Above the bedlam of barking dogs, the soft steps of Andar's large paws were nearly obscured as he padded around the side of the building, nose to the ground and ears pointed forward. The large wolfdog was a frequent visitor here, often scrounging around the outside kennels for bits of kibble that had been kicked or spilled past the endless chain-link cages and the dogs confined within them. Past the thick, heavy gray coat and the splashes of black it carried, it was impossible to tell what kind of condition the mongrel's body was in, but his dark brown eyes were alert, and his posture at ease as he milled along the edge of the cages, snapping up what bits of dog food as he found them.

It wasn't until his gaze landed on the dark shape of Mallorquin that he stopped abruptly. Andar lifted his muzzle as he quickly, quietly observed the stranger, making no move to show aggression or friendliness. Never seen this one before. A stray, or a pet...? Can't tell if he's got a collar on. The big brute was utterly neutral on the outset, giving Mall the opportunity to react first.

Mallorquin

The Bestiar lifted his dark muzzle from the ground. There was a scent coming from behind him that was getting stronger. Mallorquin turned his head and saw a grayish black dog studying him a a little ways away. The scent that this dog carried smelled just like every other dog Mall had smelled, but this scent carried a rawness to it that most other dogs didn't have. Maybe it was some sort of collie, but no, the ears weren't right and neither was the snout. A husky? No, this dog had a straight tail. And it didn't look like a husky, either.

Mall took a cautious step towards the weird-smelling dog. A vehicle rushed past the "Pound" and ruffled some of the hair on Mall's neck. Master had never given Mallorquin a collar, for which he was glad.

Hello. Mall said to the dog. Are you looking for food too? I heard from one of the strays 'round here that there was a lot of food here. Mall paused for a bit. Was this dog friendly? Mall knew he could defend himself if he wasn't. … My name's Mallorquin, he added, just to be friendly. Treat others the way you want to be treated.

Andar

The eyes that gazed back at Mallorquin were set against a broad face and heavy skull, and carried the kind of sharp, feral appearance that could only come from the wolf. But trying to pick out what domestic breeds made up this big-pawed, shaggy brute would be a difficult task, given his mixed lineage. Only the sharpness of his tall ears and the denseness of his heavy coat would hint at some shepherd or sheepdog blood in the mix, but even that was difficult to discern with any accuracy.

Behind that watchful gaze, Andar's mind was preforming a similar analysis, and the closest he could guess was that this dog must be a labrador. That guess was entirely wrong of course, but it didn't matter much to the wolfdog. A more important question to be answered was how this stranger would react, and so he stood silently, watching, waiting. As a car rumbled by, Andar instinctively sidestepped and squinted his eyes briefly, without loosing visual contact with Mallor.

Now seeing that the black dog had no collar, Andar knew he was likely dealing with a stray. A second later, the question of Mallorquin's temperament was answered when the stranger spoke. Almost instinctively, Andar's rigid posture eased, and his stiff tail loosened and gave way to a shallow wag. "Hey." Andar's voice came back in a deep, bass rumble, "The strays told you right, this is a good place to get some scraps. It can be a bit dicey with the humans though, and their cars." Returning Mallor's friendly overtures, Andar offered the stranger a helpful tip, followed shortly by his name, "My name's Andar. You been around here long?"

Mallorquin

Mallorquin had given up on trying to find the stranger's breed. Not that it mattered anyway. Mallorquin didn't really consider looks to be that big of an issue, probably because he wasn't bred just to sit around and look pretty. He, and all other Ca de Bestiars were bred for function. But without Master, Mallorquin couldn't really tell what his purpose was anymore. He was just hungry, and when you're hungry you eat, right? He guessed his only mission now was to eat. Though he he could really eat anything now. He tried to remember the last time Master had fed him scraps. When was that…

The wolf/dog/thing talked and brought Mall back down to Earth. Had he really drifted off that quickly?

The other stray's name was Andar. Andar loosened his frame and started wagging his tail. Mallorquin decided he liked Andar, and wagged his thin black tail back. Mallorquin remembered having other friends at home, at the large square with colorful flat stones and fences all around it, sort of like the "Pound" here. Say, where was home? And why is it called a "Pound"? They don't literally pound dogs, right? Mallorquin pushed these thoughts aside and answered Andar's question.

I don't really remember, Mallorquin frowned. Ever since Master left, I guess. Since then I just wandered. Maybe in the beginning of summer he left. It was sort of sudden really. Mallorquin studied Andar with almond-shaped eyes. It was impossible to tell what sate the wolfdog was in through all that fur. How long have you been a stray? He asked Andar.

Andar

Andar's black nose twitched, catching a brief whiff of food from a vent high up on the building. Canned dog food, most likely, and the smell of it made the mongrel's stomach growl and his eyes turn with brief envy at the building. Not that he wished to be stuck inside of it; no, he enjoyed his freedom, and often pitied the unfortunate dogs that were trapped behind the chainlink fences around them. But still, that smell...

The wolfdog allowed his eyes to trail over one of the doors that led into the building before he shifted them back to the ebony dog before him. Seeing Mallorquin's tail set into a wag, the last of Andar's cautious reservations slipped away, "You had a Master?" Now he was curious, and with a half smile he answered Mall's latter question, "All my life. My parents actually live out in the wilds, but I've foundnd city living to be easier, and the food more diverse." The big brute cocked his head a little, "What's it like, living with humans? Did you... live inside their dens?"