[BPRP] Dog of the Final Day [Double Dogs]

[Scaramouche Fandango]

Dogs had had the best time. She'd found fruit! Chased a bug! Got it up her nose! Found some other stuff!

But right now Dogs was having the worst time. Sunrise was approaching... and she had lost her stick.

Where could it be? Where did she put it down? She tore through the woods trying to find it. That was her special stick!

Perhaps it was by where she'd been looking for fruit? Certainly there were plenty of sticks there- the trees were bare and looked like giant sticks- but was her stick here?  

[So Long Gay Bowser]

Snacking on some grubs he had dug up in a pomegranate, Bark toddled after his friend in her hunt for the holy stick. It had been a most very long party, and admittedly, the bulky acha was getting tired. He thought fondly of a bed, and sleep, and food, and his tail wagged happily in response to the thought. It would be a welcome treat after all the food and stick hunting they had done! Hobbling after Dogs, Bark hung close behind her.

"Any luck?" He asked, looking around. Bark, sadly, was not going to be much use here. It was up to every dog to find their own special stick. Much as he might like a stick, it would not be HERS unless she said it was.

At least he had grubs until she found it!  

[Scaramouche Fandango]

"No, nothing yet. There's some- ooh, there's more pears!" Pears were pretty much her favorite food in the entire world. They weren't quite as beloved as a stick to chew on, but they were amazing. She searched over by the windfallen pears- gosh but they were delicious!- but didn't find her stick. Hm hm hm. Where could it be? How do you lose a stick?  

[So Long Gay Bowser]

"Pears are good!" Bark yipped delightedly, glad that Dogs was also pleased by the discovery of their most delicious snack. He helped himself to some of the tender fruit, then once more hung back as Dogs pursued the area for her stick. So far nothing... but that was okay! They were super duper talented hunters. A spring in his step, Bark's ear caught the sound of... sticks? He turned his nose upward, and stared up at the branches. Unfortunately, they were just tree sticks! Not Dogs's special stick. Alas! Perhaps somewhere else nearby!  

[Scaramouche Fandango]

As Dogs looked up at the dormant trees, DESPAIR began to set in. What if she never saw her stick again? It was such a good stick. They had such wonderful memories together! How could she ever re-

CRACK.

Dogs froze, then lifted her foot carefully. She knew that snapping sound! IT WAS HER STICK!

But she'd stepped on it. "MY STICK!?" she howled, looking at its sad form. A twinge of guilt nipped at her- she'd hurt it! The longer part was ok, but... she had two sticks now. And she couldn't give two sticks equal attention. But... maybe two kin could keep watch over two sticks. She picked them both up awkwardly and then dropped the slightly smaller half of the stick in front of Bark. She wagged her tail cautiously. It was still a good stick. It deserved a good home.  

[So Long Gay Bowser]

Still eating his grubs, Bark watched with interest as Dogs' stepped backwards, and-

CRACK.

Oh. Oh no. Oh no no. That was very not good. That was the face of a dog who was very much in despair. Ears dropping, Bark gave a whine as she regarded the broken stick. The very worst thing! There were no words of comfort for a broken stick. It was a tragedy that could not be recovered from. Spirits of the swamp would gather in mourning of such a grand and glorious stick, and--

...Dogs was giving it to him? Oh. oh.

"I- I think I love you," he whispered, eyes wide with awe.

What a great festival this had been.