Can't Woof It Out | Marshall x Everest [Book Two] ✔⚙

Chapter Twelve

         Arriving shortly back at the Look-Out, Marshall had halted the engine and the vehicle they rode on stopped by command. Without breathing a single soul, nor tell-tale a single opinion or emotion, both the husky and Dally had hopped off of the fire truck.

          It was merely afternoon when they've arrived, the sun stood idly in the midst of these blue and cloudless skies, and their mountain tops were only emitting a hot energy.

         By just looking at the surroundings, all knew well that the mission had finished — the missing vehicles have returned.

          Everest slipped away from the scene without saying a single thing, nor has she dared to look straight at anyone else's eyes. Marshall was supposed to do the same, he thought — he already had a horrible sudden confession, and wished he hadn't have to slip that way — but when he caught a glimpse of Jake, having his back onto a wall as he pinched the bridge of his nose, that mindset soon changed.

          Visibly in deep contemplation he was, and the creases on his brows indicated his inner frustration. That same energy somehow magnetized him and pieced himself wholly to him, feeling the same exact emotion he is in.

         How odd.

         "Is he.. Any better?" Quietly questions the Dalmatian, as he sat by Jake's leathered toes.

         Heat became more unberable as the sun slowly crept in the midst of the skies. Regardless of the evident refulgent weather, instead of seeing honey-lemon, everything's been tinted in a pessimistic gray scale picture.

           What once were called luscious green leaves were now painted in an unattractive dark grey color, and everyone had a solemn look — by everyone, means just the two of them.

          A grunt escapes from the man beside the canine, his chest cavity rising and falling rapidly; this had drawn Marshall's attention to look at him to observe the grunter for himself.

          "I should've begged to stay. If we hadn't left, he wouldn't be in a critical situation."

           Releasing a piqued air "It wouldn't have been any different," Saltily replies Marshall back, as he placed his chin within the forepaws that's situated in front of him.

        "—Turbot will and always will refuse to foster us." Harsh as what his sentence bare, it somehow shot a rather dull arrow, and instead, came out a weak and bitter comment. Something within his voice gave evident that he was in doubt.

          "But what if it wasnt this way. Would things have been different?" The dally contrdicts his earlier statement not a moment too long.

           Ricochet, came this dubiety dubbed by a specific canine. For a moment, it was all that reverbrates through these walls that he built for long years. Unsure of what words he could tell him, the deafening silence compared as to thousands of idle mirrors stood by them.

          As if space had stopped, and everything came suffocating. Gravity skyrocketed through these invisible roofs we call so dearly "atmospheres", before suddenly being released from the great grasp of the Earth.

          What once were held back by these cores, came streaming down as of those lively river streams, though these teary eyes emitted a polar of what this body of water.

          Unknowningly, Jake found himself in pool of years and had suddenly broke down in mute. His cries no longer had the innocence he had back when he was younger, where he'd cry unstoppably and because of this overwhelming emotions, had he only hiccuped in attempted to halt it. Those old hands that found its way to his tear ducts to wipe them away, we're now tucked in his dry pockets as these cheeks that belonged to him continuously dampens themselves.