Post by Vrancho on Dec 9, 2012 20:10:40 GMT -7
Whimpering excitedly, he races towards an open street, a random place he has not yet explored. Almonte, or Ghost, who he is commonly referred and known as, loved the exhilarating thrill of trying to beat the wind in his thunderous speed, he wanted to be top dog, it was all about him. A thief, and an idiot, he was one of those dogs you rolled your eyes at, then when he stole from you, you'd go after him. Then he loved that; he knew he was going to run, and he knew he was going to run so fast he'd lose them for miles.
Ghost always risked it, roughing it was his life, he was so used to being tough, used to narrowly escaping everything. He didn't care about anything besides survival, because if he did, he'd be dead by now. Perking his ears up, alert, trying to locate a sound, he was kind of bored. Not hungry, but thirsty. Not tired, but he had a ton of energy to burn, he just had to run, run, run. He began to move in a circle, chasing his tail. His reddish brown nose took a sniff, and he smelled the sharp, near scent of a dog, he turned, and yes, a dog was standing right in front of him.
Ghost always risked it, roughing it was his life, he was so used to being tough, used to narrowly escaping everything. He didn't care about anything besides survival, because if he did, he'd be dead by now. Perking his ears up, alert, trying to locate a sound, he was kind of bored. Not hungry, but thirsty. Not tired, but he had a ton of energy to burn, he just had to run, run, run. He began to move in a circle, chasing his tail. His reddish brown nose took a sniff, and he smelled the sharp, near scent of a dog, he turned, and yes, a dog was standing right in front of him.