War Dog

had tracked He-Thing

ever since

the great, winged robot

callously dropped

her beloved friend,

her true one,

into the erupting sky.

Now,

her wide paws

followed one after another,

over the hot, spent

volcanic grounds

of those malicious,

Nameless Mountains.

To the East,

the silver sun was rising;

green rays of light

climbed across the horizon

like choking vines.

The mountains were spent,

the air had cooled,

and War Dog was all alone.

Sometimes she was certain

she smelled

He-Thing’s scent in the air;

other moments,

she did not know

if she tracked He-Thing’s scent,

or her memory of it —

a confusion

a Fearwolf was ill-prepared

to combat,

especially in such

dire circumstances.

But

there was something else,

some other predator

that had entered the hunt,

some morsel

of another scent,

a scent that troubled War Dog

like a sharp rock lodged

between her toes.

Her fear grew,

but mixed with curiosity,

longing,

and desire;

for this other scent,

this troubling odor,

was that of another

Fearwolf —

and of a male.

War Dog stepped cautiously

across the rocky ground,

unsure of herself —

the stink

of the other Fearwolf

tormented her,

drowning out her thoughts

of He-Thing.

She knew

the male was near,

hidden, calculating —

because,

for a Fearwolf,

for a hunter,

patience

is the greatest virtue.

War Dog climbed,

but halfway to the summit,

she saw him —

the male Fearwolf,

at the top of the hill,

panting,

eyes unreadable,

with powerful shoulders,

fierce gold stripes, and

overripe

with masculinity.

War Dog paused in her ascent.

She did not understand

the concept of a decision,

didn’t understand

that after she acted,

there had been

the possibility of choice.

War Dog

could not

help herself.

She advanced,

the stench of the male Fearwolf

the only thing in her mind,

for it was known

that in those

Nameless Mountains,

the fires and knives of lust

were fiercer than

anywhere else in the Omniverse,

phantoms of desire

and poltergeists of sex

lurking like feverish pollen...

to be continued...