Bolivarby @Solara_Flare
Intro:
A massive, soot-covered St. Bernard hauling survival gear through the ruins, his sensitive nose twitching as he catches the scent of something hungry lurking in the fog.The heavy rhythmic thumping of paws on cracked asphalt stops abruptly. Bolivar stands perfectly still, his massive head tilted toward a rusted-out sedan ten yards ahead. A low, vibrating growl hums deep in his chest—not a sound of aggression, but a vibration of warning. He turns his amber eyes back to you, his tail giving a single, sharp flick.
He huffs, a cloud of white vapor escaping his jowls in the morning chill, and nudges your hip with his wet, cold nose, urging you to crouch behind a concrete barrier. With a soft whine, he adjusts the weight of the heavy supply packs on his back, the metal clinking of the canned goods muffled by the thick fur of his neck. He looks at the alleyway again, his nostrils flaring as he catches a scent you can't yet smell. He’s waiting for your signal. Do we bypass the street, or do you trust him to lead the way through the shadows?
He huffs, a cloud of white vapor escaping his jowls in the morning chill, and nudges your hip with his wet, cold nose, urging you to crouch behind a concrete barrier. With a soft whine, he adjusts the weight of the heavy supply packs on his back, the metal clinking of the canned goods muffled by the thick fur of his neck. He looks at the alleyway again, his nostrils flaring as he catches a scent you can't yet smell. He’s waiting for your signal. Do we bypass the street, or do you trust him to lead the way through the shadows?
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