Hot on her heels, the dog catcher was merely inches away, staggering to keep up with Method and her intelligent maneuvers. She was gaining speed at a fast rate, weaving her way through alleys and streets, crossing one at the moment. In her jaws, she held a raw steak fit for a pack of wolves. It was heavy, but she could manage it. This forced her to breathe through her nostrils, however, and it was hard to do a simple thing such as get enough air to keep running fluently.

Her feet scraped against the asphalt at an alarming rate. Cars streamed every which way, reminding her that she had to be careful or she could get hit by one. She was nearly to the halfway point when bright yellow eyes blinded her momentarily. She realized they were lights too late. Something hit her full force, and she found the strength to keep from blacking out. However, Method was knocked off her feet in one swift movement, crashing against the street in a heart wrenching scene.

She tried getting up, but something burned near her stomach. A searing pain creeped into her bones, crawling to the depths of her strong legs, sending hurt everywhere across her body. Method tried her best to ignore it, but there was blood by the bucket load where she had felt the initial impact, and now turning her head upward, she blurrily made out the form of the dog catcher running towards her. She growled pathetically, warning him to keep his distance. “Get away!” She barked, but each time she tried speaking, her voice became hoarser. It came to a point where her bark was no longer even classified as a bark. It was merely a whimper now. She had been reduced to nothing, waiting for the human to pick her up and take her somewhere awful: the pound, a vet, who knew what else could have been waiting for her.

And yet, another figure loomed around the alley she had just shot out of. Method’s breathing pulsed rapidly, giving her very little time to inhale each breath. Every intake stabbed at her lungs while she was lying down, waiting for mercy to wash over her. Adrian smirked from across the street, watching Method with an interested eye. So this is who my dear brother is crushing on? He trotted over to her, ignoring the incoming animal control. Reinforcements. Pfft. Two burly men came out of the van, slamming their car doors to reveal nets in hand. They seemed to be slipping in the humans’ hands, right through their fingers. The men readjusted their grip several times.

Adrian turned minimally, as if just noticing them. He decided they weren’t much of a threat and continued onward. Method was shaking terribly. Who was this dog and why did he looks so remarkably similar to Grimm? Those butterflies hit her stomach again, as they did every time she thought of the chow-shepherd mix. She nearly doubled her muzzle over her paws at the sudden churning. This was a time when thinking about Grimm wasn’t a good idea; butterflies made the hurting worse somehow. She quickly shut down her thoughts, but she couldn’t help hating the feeling of vulnerability.   

She was used to being able to bolt. Instead, the meat she had been carrying lay pathetically next to her bleeding side – a reminder she had not gotten away unscathed this time. She looked down at it miserably, wishing desperately that she could escape. But alas, all things seemed to be going wrong for her today. Reality wasn’t kind today, and the other dog broke into her fragmented thoughts with a serene smile. “Who-?” He stopped her from speaking anymore, putting a paw to her lips gently. She shut up immediately, almost as if on command. She hoped he would hurry up with whatever he wanted to say or do. The dog catchers were advancing by the second, and they were causing her to tremble twice as fast. From the corner of her vision, Method saw a woman of the same uniform as the other three men. She carried a loop rather than a net, but she held it fiercely and without sweaty palms. Just the sight of the loop caused an itch to form near Method’s neck, bare if not for the fact that it carried a red bandana.

Adrian didn’t seem worried, just mildly irritated. “Hm, this’ll have to be quick,” he mused, as he craned his neck downward. Method flinched at the closeness, stopping him momentarily. A loop wrapped around his neck, causing Method to yelp in surprise. The female human grinned savagely and with triumph. The collie mix thought she could suddenly see fear in the stranger dog’s eyes, but whatever scared light that had entered soon evaporated as his expression morphed into anger. A snarl tugged at his lips as he curled his teeth back. He received a choking pull from the woman in response; this only seemed to drive him as he flipped on her, causing the woman to step back in shock.

Adrian was in mid-air now, a flash of teeth and black on tan fur revealed his death grip on the lady’s arm. It was the same one holding the loop, and as she screamed in pain, the pole fell with a metallic thud. Method could only stare as Adrian landed perfectly on his toes, with such grace and style you would think he was an acrobat dog. Turning to her swiftly after his stunt, in the time it took for Method to close her gaping jaw, Adrian bent his head and shoulders, slid her effortlessly onto his back, and made a mad dash for the alleys on the other side of the road.

Both were bleeding furiously, but Method most of all. Adrian suffered from newly engraved neck wounds, marred by the movement of his little stunt a few seconds earlier. “Thank you…” Method puffed out awkwardly, as she hung her head and slid into blackness.

~

Dodger was lounging on his favorite chair, newly refurbished as a favor to Fagin from Jenny. Turning to Tito, he asked lazily, “Hey Tito, what say we heard out?”

“No way man,” the Chihuahua answered in a heavy Mexican accent, taking a moment to lift his muzzle from a chewed raw bone. Dodger looked surprised, raising an eyebrow at his friend. “I’m hungry, Dodger! I can’t work on an empty stomach.” Dodger groaned loudly and turned his body belly-up on the chair. Grimm’s ears perked up as he picked up his head. He had woken a few minutes ago from a great nap to find a growling stomach and Dodger’s heavy sigh. “I’m sure she’ll be back soon…” Grimm said half-heartedly, heaving a hard time trying not to worry himself.

“Where is she?” asked Einstein, lugging his huge body from behind some curtains. He stretched as best he could, the tips of his paws rubbing against the wall. A few planks of wood creaked under his new combined weight as he gathered his legs and stood normally. “It’s her turn.” Tito shrugged simply, still gnawing on a bone that was half a size bigger than him. Einstein nodded, needing no further explanation. He trudged over to Grimm, nudging his shoulder with a huge wet nose.

Grimm looked up at him expectantly, but a few seconds later, rested his head on his paws again. Their gray tips stood no contrast against his blackened muzzle. Einstein’s gentle expression got through to him as he asked, “Something wrong, Grimm?” His voice was a clever disguise; most canines deemed him an idiot, but Grimm knew better. Einstein was much smarter than his appearance let on. “It’s nothing. Just…” He trailed off hesitantly, wanting to say what was on his mind but not sure how to word it.

Einstein didn’t waver. He simply sat on his huge haunches and waited. Grimm found the silence too awkward to leave put, and so, he admitted,“I’m a bit worried about Method.” Einstein chuckled softly but somehow gently at the same time. “Why, Grimm? She can take care of herself.” Grimm nodded hesitantly. “I know, but… none of us ever takes this long. Do you think…?” He trailed off, allowing his mind to wander into the past. He still remembered his brothers: Adrian, the one who would forever hate him simply because of an accident – something that had never truly happened. He remembered Alphonse, too – the one that had once stopped at nothing to defend the mean streets of New York.

Now, they were both out there somewhere. One hated him and the other he still talked to sometimes, and it ate away at him that neither was easy to locate. By the time he remembered Method again, it hurt his heart double time. He was a soft type of dog; he was the one who loved everyone. It disappointed and pained him to think that even one canine could possibly be bitter. What if…?

Rita interrupted his thoughts, causing him to realize that everyone was watching him. Dodger had been lazing around on his chair, however had been glancing towards their newest member every now and then. Tito had been staring absentmindedly, nearly ripping his own teeth by tearing into a bone that was too big. Francis and Rita had come out from behind Dodger’s chair. Rita was complaining about how he could listen to such a boring show. Francis was countering with a whole speech on how poetry was the future of language. Grimm zoned out their small argument, turning up to see Einstein still looking directly at him. “Uh…” He stammered. Einstein nodded, whispering. “It’s okay.” He stood up slowly, going to watch TV with Francis. It was a black and white version of a soap opera – something about Shakespeare.

Rita yawned, trotting over to the other side of the chair. Grimm noticed that she was beginning to speak to Dodger. After a few minutes, Dodger chuckled and hopped off of the chair. It creaked in response – everything in the boat was worn and old. Grimm was surprised when a few seconds later he heard his