The puppy pep was real as he burst from the cuddle pits and started exploring. He had definitely grown again, his arms were definitely longer and the pen felt as though it had shrunken. Maybe it was time to start keeping track of his size.

He pawed around the yard for a bit until he found a piece of rock he could use and went over to the wall and sat down. He measured where the top of his head was and marked it on the wall.

Or at least he tried to.

He soon found that scratching the wall didn’t discolor it. It just changed the texture slightly, and nowhere near enough to be recognizable. So he tried smearing the walls with dirt. No dice, it fell off and when he tried using mud from the crick it simply slid down the wall or broke off, always with a less than a noticeable mark.

“Pecrfifoo”

Well, fuck you too.

He paced around the edge of their enclosure as he tried to think of a way to keep track of his height. As he came to the portion of the pen that had been constructed out of piled stones he found a vertical seam that nearly ran to the top of the enclosure. Getting an idea he retrieved the rock he had tried to mark the wall with and tried to stick it into the crack.

The stone was too wide, unfortunately, but now he had a solution to the issue. Find a flatter rock. After some searching and a few tries, he found a rock he could wedge into the wall of the pen and have it stick. Confirming he could pull it back out after wedging it in, he tried measuring himself again.

The rock was stuck fast and seemed to do the trick.

With that done he’d have a better idea about his rate of growth, now onto trying to sneak a peek at the other puppies. He tried looking for a hole or crack in the wall he could exploit, and while there were a few, they either didn’t show anything interesting or nothing he could make sense of.

So he started searching for ways to look over the lip of the kennel.

The walls were too sheer to climb so that was right out. And while he could get a little higher up by climbing the slope of the creek it wasn’t anywhere near enough of a height difference.

He looked for anything else or any other way for him to get a look, he went to the back wall and tried to climb. It sort of worked, he could get up the wall a step or two, but he couldn’t hold on long enough to get anywhere, plus the farther up he climbed the fewer handholds he had to work with.

Well, that was a bust.

Stil,l it was surprising how well his paws could grip stone. He sat with his back to the wall and lamented that he couldn’t do some crazy kung fu jump and just hop over the barrier or run on the walls to freedom.

Wait.

He remembered watching some videos online of dogs running up to walls or trees and making some ridiculous leaps. He looked at his height marker and then examined the wall, it looked to be a bit taller than 3 of his body lengths. Maybe this would be worth a shot, he remembered when he was in school and he’d try to run up the walls in the gym and would try to grab onto the supports for the basketball hoop. He got yelled at for getting footprints on the walls.

He took it slow and experimented with the cave wall first, figuring out how he’d need to move in order to do what he wanted. He nearly bumped his nose a couple times and slowly figured out the technique to a degree. Now all he had to do was put it into practice.

Turning around and bracing himself on the cavern wall he plotted his course. He’d go through the yard and up the kennel wall. The only problem now was that the yard was filled with frolicing puppies. He would have to either wait for them to thin out after feeding time or earlier in the day before they were all awake.

Choosing the third option and with a mighty little howl, charged the yard. All heads had turned at the noise and those in his path were now scampering to get out of his way. He charged the wall and with careful timing, ducked and pushed off, simultaneously running and climbing up the wall as he gripped with his paws and pushed with his hind legs.

The amount of verticality he got was crazy and nearly made it to the lip. He still had the hops, not surprising since he was one of the elite few who could dangle from the basketball hoop structure. It was one of those things that raised your status in school, like getting sent to detention for super glueing chairs to the ceiling or replacing the flag with XXXL size underwear.

He landed awkwardly, but the soft soil of the yard came to his rescue and only winded him instead of pretzeling his spine. Though it might have come from the general indestructibility that youth of any kind seem to posses.

As he got up the crowd went wild as the other pups started baying and yowling. Then the imitations started, soon dozens of furry missiles were launching themselves at the wall. Most got some decent air, but couldn’t quite nail the transition, some smacked into the wall and one unluckily one hit it nose-first. More than a few of the others touched their own noses and winced in pain.

Even with all of this, there were a few who nailed it too. Some launched themselves near the lip and some of the smaller ones even got a little bit above it. He wanted to try again, but with all the commotion it was going to be difficult. Especially with the basket keeper watching.

He flinched when he realized the basket keeper was there, with everyone involved in the jumping contest it seemed like nobody had noticed. And he was looking right at Khale.

He tried to look as innocent as possible but considering he hadn’t any idea how that looked like on a wolfman baby he didn’t think he’d sold it. Though it was the Hyena-like laughter that made the result certain.

The noise however was enough to draw the attention of his peers and soon the pups were crowding around as normal. However, there was a new addition to the jumping faction. One adventurous little ankle-biter actually timed a running jump that went up the wall and ended up with an obscenely massive wad of meat. And since they had enough horizontal momentum to carry them free of the crowd they got to eat most of it too.

After that, the basket keeper had to keep on his toes for a while as more wall jumpers joined the fray. In the end, the basket keeper in their infinite wisdom just started tossing the meat in higher arks.

Everybody got fed, but it was certainly one of the more energetic meals they’d had in a while.

Khale got one last look from the basket keeper before he left though the man turned man-dog couldn’t quite understand its meaning.

Getting tired with the rest of his group he returned to the cuddle cluster and settled back into sleep. He had work in the morning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Honestly, it was weird how quickly things had returned to normal after his dreams went wonky. Though he supposed it was more like adapting to the new normal. Khale brushed his teeth as he got ready to set out for the day. After the gauntlet Bryan had shown mercy and he had Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday off. Which meant the only work days he had in a row were Friday and Saturday.

Though it wasn’t quite right to describe days that way anymore. He was really starting to wonder if he should be doing anything with all his spare time. With every other waking day a vacation in dreamland, working day in and day out wasn’t so bad. Should he ask for extra hours?

He paused his box cutting to think about it. Nah. Well, maybe…

...He probably should. Nothing crazy, he would still need to recover from the workday, but so long as it didn’t trash his body getting some extra hours would be a good way to make some headway towards the fees he might need to pay for the welding gig. If nothing else it would be good to have a cushion for unforeseen expenses.

After looking into some welding accredited schools that offered courses and some apprenticeships, he realized something important. While the process was definitely costly, there wasn’t strictly a need to get his own equipment, since employers more often than not provide equipment if for no other reason than to make sure it was reasonably functional.

When he asked Birdman about he had said that he wanted to do contract work on the side and make some extra cash that way. This was his reason for purchasing all his equipment, plus if for some reason the stars aligned to screw him over and he couldn’t get a steady gig the contract work would keep his head above water.

So the good news was his friend was just a lunatic and the better news was that this wouldn’t cost him nearly as much as he thought it would. When Salad had heard that Steve was buying his own equipment, he had assumed that was the norm. After learning that there were four different types of welding torches, some designed for different jobs, he realized that any employer trying to pull something like that would find themselves completely shit out of luck. And out of welders.

Food for thought he supposed. Making employment a privilege you had to buy seemed like a stupid idea on the surface and it just got dumber the more you thought about it.

He remembered a phrase from one of the more schlocky kung fu action films he liked.

Greed breeds stupidity, and wanton greed breeds rampant stupidity.

That film had terrible action but some pretty good lines. Too bad the actors that were dubbing it had all the personality of a sandalwood plank. But hey, that was part of the charm.

So lost was he in his love for bad action flicks that he almost missed Bryan coming up to talk to him.

“Yo! Bossman, what’s up?”

“Hey Salad, could I get you to throw dog food real quick?”

Khale paused for a moment to give his boss his full attention.

“I thought Jamie was throwing dog food.”

He finally noticed the subdued stress in his boss’s face.

“Something happen?”

The general manager seemed to mull over the question for a moment, then relented.

“You’re probably going to hear about it anyway so I might as well tell you. Robert cut himself with his box knife. Not too badly, thank God, but it was definitely a bleeder. Jamie’s giving him a ride to the clinic.”

That made sense, it was company policy to get any injuries that serious looked at and treated by medical professionals. It helped that all employees were eligible for medical insurance through BoxCo.

“Is the new guy going to be alright?” He asked.

Salad liked the man, he’d only known him for a week, but he was good people. Still, some folk got spooked when they saw their own blood. A fairly reasonable reaction in his book. A scant few however got the willies bad enough that they couldn’t do the job any more. And usually either quit or moved to grocery or cashier jobs.

Bryan shook his head, “too soon to tell, but I think he’ll be alright. He didn’t look too freaked out though and the cut probably won’t interfere with the work. Still might have to make accommodations, but that’s between me and him.”

Fair enough.

“I’ll get to throwing dog food after I’m done here then, should I head over to Rob’s aisles afterward?”

The boss shook his head, “I’m gonna distribute that load among the Steves for now, but check in on them after you’re done with dog food and your own aisles. Actually…”

He looked at his watch and looked at the freight left to be shelved. There were less than three boxes left.

“It’s getting close to lunch, so instead after you’re done here I want you to do a cart run. Once you’re done with that head to lunch and check-in with me. If Jamie’s back by then you can go back to your own aisles.”

Khale smiled and threw a quick salute, “You got it boss man!” cart runs were the best part of this job.

Bryan left to go do manager things and Salad sped through his final few boxes. Once he was done he went to the customer service desk. The desk also served as the store's liquor cabinet and had metal bars rolled over the entrance to keep anyone from pinching a bottle. It wasn’t like they could sell it anyway. It was illegal for retailers to sell alcohol after nine o’clock, county law.

He reached through the bars and grabbed a thick black remote and a bright orange visibility vest. He went and grabbed his coat, slipping it on along with the reflective garment, and marched outside on light feet. He really enjoyed this part of the job. He really couldn’t give a reason as to why only that putting things back into order felt good. Also cart riding. Definitely the cart riding.

Grabbing shopping carts that had been left out, he heaved and shoved them into one another. Forming small trains of four or five that he would either steer back into the cart well or into a nearby cart return corral in the parking lot. Whenever he went to grab a lone cart in some far-flung corner of the lot he would bring it up to speed and leap on the back, letting his chosen chariot carry him forward and occasionally giving additional pushes to add speed.

Salad braked on one side by gently placing the sole of his shoe on one of the back wheels of the cart allowing him to steer his steed into a corral. Once all the carts were corralled he went over to a bulky machine with a shopping cart bolted to the front. He unhooked it from its charging station and turned it on, pulling out emergency stop buttons and flipping a switch.

He tugged on the side and the motorized wheels spun to life, having the turn require only a light tug rather than a hard yank. Pulling out the remote he pressed a button and he started walking, and the so dubed Cart Sorrcerer lurched forward to keep pace. He fed it into the corral and ran to the head where the line exited the other side.

Khale now had a train of twenty carts rolling alongside him, he fed the train into another corral, then another and then swept it back towards the cart well. Taking a wide arc he brought the line into the crawl and then released the button, letting momentum carry the train forward. The result was some gaps opened up in the train and Khale shoved them back to separate the line and pulled the train to align with the next row of carts.

Soon the entire train was in the cart well and he wheeled the Sorrcerer around for another pass. He repeated the process until the parking lot was completely clear of carts and with a contented sigh, went back inside for his lunch.

Dropping off the vest and remote back at the customer service desk, he checked the clock, it was a bit past lunchtime. He clocked out and went to grab his lunch.

He grabbed a beef and broccoli bowl and on the way back, caved and bought a carton of orange juice. Once back in the break room he used a marker to pen his name into the side and lid of the carton. Then he gave it a shake, unscrewed the top, pulled out the stopper, and took a long pull straight from the box. Ooh yeah, that was nice. It was a shame they could only take water bottles out onto the floor, being able to have a swig of orange juice while he worked would be bliss.

Salad sat in companionable silence as he ate his food and started fussing on his phone and playing some Tetris-like balancing games when two more people entered the break room. Jamie and Robert.

They received a hero’s welcome as the wounded warrior made his grand return.

“Hey,” Scuba Steve called out “You alright? Lose anything imporant?”

Rob had an uncomfortable smile as he answered. “They needed to do a few stitches, but they said it would be fine. Doesn’t hurt nearly as bad as it did before.”

Scuba nodded. “Yeah, been there. Just take it easy, and don’t be surprised if Bryan sends you home early. You can also expect a reduced workload. I see a lot of small and light boxes in your future.”

Robert looked relieved at the news that this wouldn’t be a huge issue.

Though now that everyone knew he was okay, the ribbing commenced.

“So when are you getting your purple heart?” Carlos jibed, and he got a rueful smile in return.

“The guys at the clinic said it’s in the mail. I’ll let you know when I get it.”

“So tell me,” Khale held up his hand, “How many fingers are you missing?”

Laughing Rob waved him off, “Shut up, Salad.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Khale stretched his little doggy body as he woke up, time to get a look over the wall. Today was the day it would happen, he’d been practicing earlier in the morning. Which meant as soon as he woke up, he was running up the wall and leaping his fuzzy little heart out.

He’d also gotten a lot better at landing as a consequence and could easily break his fall by turning it into a roll. He’d even been able to come out of a few of those rolls upright.

Bracing himself he placed his legs against the back wall, shifted his weight to his rear legs, and then shot forward like a fuzzy bullet. Keeping low to the ground made transitioning to the wall easier so he went as low as he could go and keep his speed. With a leap turned his forward momentum vertical as he grasped for the few outcroppings that gave enough leverage to propel him higher.

The ledge, the knot, and the gap.

His claws hooked onto the low ledge of where one rock was placed on top of another as he angled towards the knot. A round bulb that if he could get his fingers around would let him push higher. Yes! He got it just right. Next was the gap, this was the toughest bit. It was a vertical gap in the rock and if he hit it at the wrong angle his claws would just bounce off. What he needed to do for this to work was use enough strength to wedge a claw into the crack. If he used too much strength or put too much weight on that claw it wouldn’t come away cleanly.

It had nearly gotten caught in there once before, but new horizons and new possibilities called out to him, demanding new heights.

So of course he hit the gap completely wrong and had to leap off and away from the pen. Still, his head nearly came up to the lip. As he plopped down on all fours he immediately charged the wall, this was something he had tried a few times before and he still wasn’t sure how well it worked. He ran up to the cavern wall and when he got close he jumped, turning as he did so.

He landed hind legs first and bounced off the wall and back towards the yard and its outer wall. This time he hit every stepping stone perfectly and was rewarded with his biggest air time yet and better than that a sight he wasn’t familiar with. More kennels. There were three he could see, excluding his own.

Landing with a soft thump he did the math, his kennel had twenty-two pups in it, himself included. Assuming that each kennel had a similar number, that would mean there were eighty wolfmen puppies in this cavern alone. The knowledge was paltry and not particularly important, but he could feel his tail wagging at the joy from his highest leap yet and the new discovery. Running back to the wall he got ready to go another round. He’d try to get a better view, and possibly explore if he could get his mitts on the lip of the wall.

It took him a while but he was finally getting the hang of it. He hadn’t been able to grab the lip of the kennel yet, to get that high he had to push up and away from the wall putting it out of his reach. But he felt he was getting close. He sprung up over the lip of the kennel wall and got a great look at the cavern, and at a group of very surprised-looking wolfmen.

Khale himself let out a small squawk as his own surprise fouled his recovery, but taking a hard landing was practically second nature to him by now. So instead of planting face-first into the ground, he ended up sprawled on his back and a touch dizzy from the sudden unexpected roll.

A head stuck itself over the wall as one of the wolfmen looked in on him. He recognized this one, well, he recognized their smell. The basket keeper was far too early for there to be food. Another face came over the wall to look as well, this one he recognized by sight alone, though the plank of wood strapped to it made it difficult to confuse with any other.

The dancing wolfman who had that delicious smelling mushroom pointed at Khale and said something that he could almost understand.

It was strange, listening to them speak. Before it had been utter gibberish, but now it was like listening to a conversation in another room. You could listen through the wall and kind of get the gist of what was going on, you could tell words were being said, and maybe glean a general attitude or mood. But specifics were beyond him. At least for the moment.

They started gesturing at him and saying a word over and over again. It felt like they were calling to him. Khale thought about this development for a second and approached the wall, they gestured more and reached out to him. Some of his kennel mates saw and came over themselves. Though most of them were still trapped in the pits of eternal cuddling.

Deciding to see where this development led him, Khale shot to the back wall to the apparent frustration of the two calling out to him. He bounced off the wall and on the way back used one of the pups baying at the two adults as a springboard and latched onto the basket keepers outstretched hand.

That got a cackle out of the basket keeper and an odd look from plank face as they pulled him up and over the wall.

And out of the kennel.

He finally was able to get a good look at an adult wolf person. Both wore little in the way of clothing that wasn’t purely functional. The basket keeper had a thin sash that looked like a leather belt with a worn bag woven from some rough fiber hanging from his side. The only clothing plank face was wearing was his namesake. He was carrying a stick that had what looked like a section of spine tied to it, no idea what that was for. And they were both definitely he’s. The freeballing made it easy to put that to rest.

Honestly, he was a little surprised, he was kinda expecting the basket keeper to be female, taking care of the kids and whatnot with the whole caveman aesthetic they had going on, but it seemed that convention didn’t hold here. So where were the females? He hadn’t seen one so far, at least he thought he hadn’t. None of his kennel mates were female. Real sausage fest, but hey he wasn’t exactly looking for feminine company, not when all of them had terminal cases of literal dog face. He was also what? Two weeks old? Pretty sure he was too young for that.

Not being left to ponder the grand mysteries of the missing gender he was placed down and something he had not expected happened.

The basket keeper spoke to him.

And he understood.

“Hulkof.” Follow.

Then the two turned and began walking off.

Khale just blinked owlishly as they started to leave. Calling what he had a word didn’t feel quite right, and the mere act of understanding felt… off. Like he shouldn't be able to.

The basket keeper turned to see him still sitting there and gently barked, startling Salad into motion as he raced to catch up. His mind whirling. What the hell was going on?

He followed as the two led him down winding tunnels and passed what looked like a guard post. Several adults looked at their group and asked what sounded to Khale like a question, but only by the tone and body language of the asker. Plank face said something that apparently was a satisfactory answer as one of the other adults broke off to join their group.

They traveled through a winding maze of tunnels that branched off in random directions, sometimes going up or down at ridiculously steep angles. They went down, and the further down they went the bigger the tunnels became. Quickly they came to a large chamber with a large number of guards.

What gave them away was that every single one was armed, some had stone clubs that liked like someone had broken off a stalagmite so they could hit someone with it. Others held oddly shaped sticks with various desiccated body parts tied to them. However the two in the back had what looked like spears, and on the ends of them were lashed were what appeared to be ridiculously oversized kitchen knives.

A similar question to the last one was asked and they got the same answer plank face had given the first guard. They were then shown into a room that was very different from the caverns up until now.

There were tapestries on the walls and a rug on the floor, there were chests and tables and a chair that looked like a throne in the back, there was just one problem.

Everything was HUGE! Like, two or three times oversized, the table and chair had their legs broken off at some point so they could be lowered to the point of being useful. The bottom of the tapestries were lying on the grown and the rug was pressing up against the wall. None of it looked to be in good repair.

In the middle of all this sat the biggest wolfman Khale had seen yet, the basket keeper and plank face as well as the guards we had picked up all dropped to all fours and lowered their heads. It was only when he got a pointed look from the basket keeper that he realized what was going on and mimicked them.

What the actual fuck was going on?