Nee." Fang replied, still garbled with her scruff fur in his mouth.

He slowly pulled himself backward, dragging her up onto the roof with him. She lay there, safe, panting, and turned to look at him.

"You...saved me..." she gasped for breath. "Thanks."

Fang wasn't listening; he was too busy trying to collect his dignity. "What I meant t'say back there was, what'd you eat today?"

Afghanna dropped her gaze, locking it on the bone at his paws. "Thanks t'you, not much." She immediately regretted saying it. Best not to be rude to the dog who'd saved her life. "Sorry, I didn't mean that." She stood up and shook herself. "Thanks again. Why'd you do it?"

Fang looked baffled for a moment. "Well, why wouldn't I do it? 'Ey, you was in trouble, doll," He shrugged. "Wha'was I s'posed t'do, letcha fall?" He grinned evilly. "Who'd chase me fer this ratty thing?" He rolled the bone toward her with his nose.

Afghanna stared at him. "Wai'wai'wait. You actually enjoyed that?"

He gave her a crooked smile, eyelids proudly lowered.

"What kinda Street Dog are you?" Afghanna laughed.

"Not much, just the best there ever was," Fang wiggled his eyebrows. "Or ever will be."

"Uh, nice try, but everybody knows The Tramp tops all Street Dogs, past, present, or future." Afghanna raised her eyebrows.

Fang's eyes brightened. "Yeah, well, not fer long."

"Look, let's start over. We got off on the wrong paw." She grinned. "I'm Afghanna."

He dipped his head. "Fang. So," he smirked. "How 'bout that cool place?"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


 

"The Park? This is your 'cool place'?" Afghanna groaned.

They were at the front gate to the Park. Fang hadn't been here in a long, long, long time, about three months and a half. And that brought back too many blurry, fast-paced, hard-to-remember memories.

"Don't knock it till ya try it, Affy," Fang winked. 

Afghanna's head reared back, and she cocked it, one eye squinting. "Affy?" she asked, baffled. "What kind of pet name is that?"

"Terdollface, the works." Fang grinned. He sprang up onto the brick wall--the one with cement on the top. "How d'ya feel about it?"

m of endearment, "You want the truth?" Afghanna arched a brow.

Fang blinked.

"Hate it." Afghanna leapt up beside him, and pushed her nose into his face. "Don't ever call me that. Again."

"Touch-y." Fang muttered. "A'ight, Afghanna, this way."

He jumped down from the other side of the wall, into the Park. "It's closed, so we ain't gonna be meetin' anybody here. Follow me--this'll be great."

"Lead the way, Romeo," Afghanna's eyelids lowered, and a teasing crooked smile appeared on her muzzle. She was obviously amused.

"With pleasure." Fang began traipsing through the Park, but his paws trembled as he did so. Things flashed in his mind--a stormy sky, clouds closing together, a snout nudging him from behind, a sweet voice, frantic with worry, urging him along.

He shook his head. "Uh..." he bounded ahead, skidding to a stop at the edge of the lake, which was over the hill they'd just crossed. "Check this out!" he ran around the lake a bit until he came to a bridge, the sun turning his golden fur firefly-yellow.

Afghanna arched a brow, eyes circles, and followed her new companion, puzzled by his antics. She stood by him on the bridge as they poked their heads in between the railing.

"See those?" Fang panted.

{As an author's note, you must remember that Fang is not the age you believe him to be. He is hardly more than a child now, a puppy still, but grown more. (Think 9-Year-Old human, but as a dog. Wily, isn't he, for his age?)}

Afghanna looked down into the water. Two ducks floated by, crossing underneath the bridge.

"Watch," Fang said, and winked. He turned around and jumped forward, skidding on his rear end, front paws skidding on the red-wood bridge's flooring.

Afghanna lifted one ear, cocking her head. "What're--"

She was drowned out by a barrage of puppified-barking. Fang's eyes were squeezed shut, a calm-and-collected grin on his muzzle, like he had everything under control, as he barked as loudly as he could.

The ducks, seven or eight of them, all identical, immediately took half-flight, as only ducks will do, and flapped as hard as they were able. The result was a splash of water, but that wasn't where it ended as the birds honked off into the distance. Fang didn't seem satisfied as the water careening into the air just up to the bridge's rim barely missed Afghanna's paws. In fact, he didn't seem finished at all.

Afghanna contented herself with watching him steadily.

The next thing she knew, Fang was nudging a large boulder into the water.

"Duck!" he cried, and flung himself onto the red-wooden boards of the bridge.

Afghanna copied him, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Hey, keep yer eyes open, doll, you're missin' it!"

Afghanna opened her eyes and gasped. "Woah!"

A sparkling sheet of water rose from the river, so glittering clear that she could see her reflection in it, a dripping water-mirror.

She stood and leapt to the edge of the bridge, watching as the wall of water splashed back into the river, molding into the current.

"How'd you learn to do that?" Afghanna gasped to Fang.

"Couple things I picked up." Fang blinked.

"How?" Afghanna demanded, tail wagging.

"From a friend," Fang mumbled. He looked away. He gave a half-chuckle, swallowed, and gazed into the distance.

____________________________________________________________

FLASHBACK:

 

"Brrrr..." Little Fang stumbled through the streets, rain pelting his fur. It hadn't stopped raining for weeks, on and off, clouds never leaving the sky, since that horrible night, the last time he saw his parents.

The poor puppy was teething, and when a pup with teeth as sharp and unusually-large as his teethed, you'd better hide your valuables.

But Fang wasn't thinking about that. The puppy had nightmares now, every night. He wanted his mother's warmth beside him as he slept in cardboard boxes. When he was hungry, he wanted his father's chuckle, with a raw steak to bring home in his jaws when Fang's belly so much as gurgled. He wanted to play in the sunshine of the Park, his home. He wanted to be told "Not to go too far". He wanted someone to call him "dear" again, his father to nuzzle him and teach him how to hold his head high, because he was "A Street Dog, and that's something to be proud of, son". Fang wanted his mother's laugh, to feel the wind in his fur as he raced his dad across the lake, over that red, wooden bridge he always tripped over his ears on.

Fang stumbled, sliding paws-first into a fat, muddy puddle. He sat up.

A horse-drawn carriage was rambling toward him, full-speed.

Fang staggered to his paws, hungry and weak, not having a decent meal for a month. His eyes widened as the horse and wood-wheels advanced on him. "Help!" he cried out, howling. "Help me!"
 

A ball of white fur rammed into him, rolling him onto the sidewalk. Fang and his rescuer didn't stop rolling until they slammed into a wooden fence at the end of an alley.

The two creatures broke apart. Fang gasped for breath, heart pounding, and sat up, shaking his long ears.

A white, scruffy, mangy-looking teenage-dog stood in front of him, lightning lighting his fur up, revealing brown spots covering his white coat. A mohawk of fur on his head and gleaming yellow eyes caught Fang's attention.

"What were you thinking?" the teenage mutt barked out, shaking his fur from the wet, as if it would do any good.

Fang's eyes were the size of two moons, and he swallowed. "U-Uh..."

"Don't you know how dangerous it is in the middle o'the street?" The mutt snarled.

Fang gulped. "Um...uh...s-s-sorry..."

The mutt sighed. "Never mind. Look, kid, ain't you got any parents?"

Fang stood up indignantly, flinging his head upward, angry, eyes locking with the newcomer's as he said loudly, "No!" He sat down again. 

"You ain't got any folks?" The mutt looked surprised, somewhat sympathetic.

Fang wrinkled his little brown nose, eyes screwing up as he crossed them. "No," he repeated. "I..." he cocked his head. "Uh...ain't." Ain't. The word sounded foreign on his tongue. But it felt good. Maybe he'd use it more.

"You're all alone, huh." The mutt blinked and stared at Fang a long time. His eyes flashed. "Name's Mutton, kid. What's your handle?"

"Handle?" Fang tilted his head, looking so adorable it made Mutton lift his lower eyelid of his left eye in disgust.

"Name, name, your name!" Mutton growled irritably.

"Oh. I'm Fang." The Golden Retriever puppy scratched at his right ear with his right hind leg, making his ear flap