Writing Prompt

There once was a dragon, a dragon named Dog, whose hide was as night, and whose eyes were as fog, this dragon named Dog, breathed both fire and ice, was as feared on the earth, as it was in the skies, and Dog had a rider, a man like a Titan, fearless in battle —— though his name was Frightened

The dog has golden locks, deep blue eyes, and an endearing but derpy smile. The dog seems very vocal and relaxed. It looks compassionate and understanding. It is very passionate about the things it likes. On certain days it is quite irritable. On others, it is very hyper and not able to focus well. It is very social and it loves the outdoors. The dog loves the summer. It has a complicated relationship with the cat which is a jerk, but it clearly loves the dog. The dog, when not terrified by it, loves the cat back. The dog’s name is Rupert, and I love him.

Everyone forgets they exist a nonexistent breed a discarded animal Small and fragile Sensitive to your words Mixed personality And cold easily Loves the shower Hates the rain Loves to eat Hates to clean Naps are life A way to be gone but still be here Hates loud sounds Loves people most of the time curious intuitive interested My pup and me against the world

The tortoise was a dusty old thing, barely hanging onto life. Its toothless maw gaped slightly in that puckered sort of way, parched of the youth it yearned for. Each wrinkled step was arduous. Aimless. There was no reason to keep on walking. Yet it did. Step after heaving step. One stalky stump in front of the other. That was all there was left to do. The only sparks of joy left in its life were wilted cabbage shreds. Even those, it seemed, became farther and fewer between. It was munching a last sad sliver between toothless jaws. There was not much in the way of sunlight, either. It had a window, yet the blinds were always drawn down to cover the overcast gray sea of London sky. Sometimes, the tortoise leaned a little too far and ended up belly-up on its sandy shell. Its feet waggled helplessly in the air until it gave up and just sat and rocked, waiting for some outside force to right it. It led a lonely life.

From his sisters perspective, getting himself companionship was long overdue. And when it came to her, it was like a long lost matchstick found its box. When their paths crossed the first time, he wouldn't really notice her. In fact, he really didn't want to notice any of the dogs and even put a fake phone number on the receptionist form. "Can't you just act like you're interested, brother?" Nora whispers in his face, her eyebrows shaped like two arrows. Tom answered with a slight smile, and proceeded to follow her through the cranky door.

They were greeted with a mix of barking, hissing and scratching sounds of paws hitting metal. The shelter had to be home to 30 dogs at minimum.

Her waxy grey hair was covering her little eyes, but it was like her glare was burning through them with a hot, fixed stare to her neighbouring box. There, a younger dog fed her 4 mieping puppies. Her paws, resting like two rocks, in a perfect symmetry. "This is Milady." the nurse said, pointing at the little heap. "She's gone through a lot, she's eight years old. Luckily she's more or less healthy. She got her left foot crushed by her former owner. Since then she's unable to walk with it and limps. So, no big walks with this little one, or else she gets even grumpier than she already is." the nurse laughs. "Oh and please by the love of the lord, no cats! She can't even stand other dogs." now the nurse was making a sign with her eyes, refering to the puppy situation, as if Milady could hear her.

Tom was looking at the little madame. "Maybe it wouldn't be that bad to buy a dog. And this one even seemed easy to handle. No big walks, no pet play dates, and his sister would finally leave him alone. This little heap could be his way out of this social obligation his family is hanging over his head. His time was overdue. He was 46 years old and a forever bachelor. Nobody would choose him, and nobody except him would choose her too.

Evelyn’s cat, Jasper, was a quiet observer, much like the woman he followed around the apartment. His fur, a mix of soft gray and disheveled patches, seemed to mimic the way Evelyn’s thoughts would scatter across her mind, never quite aligning. He would sit in corners, half-hidden, his wide green eyes locked on everything but never quite engaging—just watching, as if the world were something he could never quite belong to. His ears would twitch at the slightest sound, but he wouldn’t rush to investigate, preferring to remain still until the moment felt right, a careful hesitation that mirrored Evelyn’s own reluctance to step outside her comfort zone.

When he did move, it was deliberate—slow, calculated—like when Evelyn would take a deep breath before speaking her truth, measuring her words, unsure if she was ready for them to escape. He avoided sudden gestures, retreating to quieter places if she reached out too abruptly, as though he feared what might be expected of him. But in the evenings, when the light softened and the house quieted, Jasper would curl up at her feet, not demanding affection, but offering a presence that felt like the gentle weight of a thought half-formed. She, too, would sometimes allow herself to simply be, without need for words or explanation, her guarded heart thawing only in the silence they shared.

The door opened and the room filled with noise and activity. The tabby, who was curled up on the blanket draped over the couch cushion, turned her head and narrowed her eyes at the sun that stole it’s way into the room with the open door. Bothered by all the clamoring that now surrounded her, she stood up and arched her back in a deep stretch. She splayed her paws and dug her nails into the blanket as she tipped her head back and closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of her back muscles pulling taut. Eying the room carefully to gauge how quickly all this ruckus would die down, she jumps down to the floor. Her people are bustling about so she walks under the dining room table to get out from under foot. Having her tail stepped on is not a pleasant feeling and one she’d like to avoid if possible. Observing from the safety of table and chair legs, she watches her people carry in bags and drop them on the table. She hears noisy laughter from the tall, giggly one, lots of talking from the smallest one, and calm request from her favorite person. With all her people in the kitchen, and none of them reaching for her food, the tabby decides to walk away and find a quiet spot in her favorite persons bedroom. She walks slowly and carefully down the hall, taking in the tv sounds from the other bedroom, the sunlight coming in from the bathroom window, and the clicking sound that happens when the heat turns on. When she makes it to her bedroom, she jumps up on the bench at the foot of the bed and walks to the end closest to the big window. The sunlight is coming in and she closes her eyes and enjoys the warmth as it soaks through her fur. A shadow glides past her and she opens her eyes, quickly on high alert. She jumps down from the bench and moves closer to the big window to better see. Squirrels are nervously flitting around on the deck outside and leaves are falling from the big oak tree as the wind shakes them loose. The tabby watches them all with suspicion and a hint of delight, mesmerized by the dance of nature taking place before her eyes. A bird flies past breaking her out of her reverie and she’s stung by a sudden pang of longing. How she’d love to be outside in the middle of the dance instead of inside merely watching it. Yes, this house is warm and comfortable and familiar, but out there is different and unknown and exciting. If only she could have both. She drops her head in acknowledgment of the impossibility of this thought. She loves her home and her people and this is enough: more than enough really. With that satisfying thought to comfort her, she jumps up on the bed and curls up against the pillow with the soft satin cover. She lets out a little sigh and closes her eyes as contentment lulls her to sleep.

He barks out the window, protecting the family from the lightning. His head hung low gutteral growls, his tail wags to block the family from what is not seen, on all four he's ready to pounce, to defend. He does not like the unseen thunder, He longs for still ness, He longs for peace.

Solace animal likes cuddles tough exterior inquisitive a lone wolf always alert for trouble with ears and eyes pricked up at the side of the head. A sixth sense for trouble will flight and flee infect know people too much not talk face to face enjoy countryside hiding in the grass among people invisible

Black cat Eyes of green Electric hat Kitten screams

Howling wolf Claws delight On the roof Life at night