Cherish || A Chase x Sweetie Fanfiction ||

(S3-C3) • Deceit •

Scorching as the sun could be during that afternoon, Chase took a deep breath, threading towards the gate of Barkingburg's castle. He was confronted by a pair of guards, although they were of no familiarity. It seemed that Smith and Antonio's presences weren't set in with the current time of day, replaced by two unknowns.

They crossed their halberds, and although many would tremble in fear from the intimidating response, especially since they were considering entering private and celebrated territory, Chase's composure failed to falter.

"Foolish guards, have you not known of my figure? What rocks have you been living under?" The Shepherd played his act. It wasn't comfortable yet he was able to adapt due to Sweetie's natural way of being such a formal jerk, only imitating her. However, the mask he wore... he felt different with it. "Your princess expects of my arrival. As of late, my mood has been below endurable, and so I wish for a peaceful coming yet I set forth for this atrocious welcome?"

Suddenly, as if he wasn't in control of his body, Chase drew a small blade with his paw out of nothing! It was silvery and sharp, almost like a claw than a sword, with small, black veins connected from down his mask, hidden on his torso and onto his wrist where the weapon was fabricated into sheer existence, and his stance turned that of one who wanted to attack. The guards had to immediately stand with their weapons pointed forward to defend.

"Enough!" a voice broke through from behind the knights, who turned to see a White Terrier. She wore nothing of sorts, perhaps due to the lack of activities needing proper outfits. "Let him in," she ordered, the guards hesitating for a second before they raised their weapons, Chase's unsheathed slowly melting back to his wrist, walking forward with heavy and proud steps.

Observing the pup, Chase donned on almost completely black clothing. A black overcoat covered his whole body and down to his ankles, his feet fitting within corinthian boots with dirty yellow laces. He wore a fedora as his headwear, a dark blue feather clinging to its side, and his eyes were blood red from the contacts he wore, suiting the half mask he had, which seemed to have covered his whole muzzle with a closed, razor teeth as a design, leaving only a large, uncovered patch left to be seen on his face. Precisely the top right side. Sweetie felt pride from her complicated creation but she was in awe with how villain-like Chase looked. He had great potential to be a cosplayer, and that was not to mention the trick he just used against the guardians of the castle.

"Looks good," Sweetie complimented, "and that was awesome," she whispered to allow only the Shepherd to hear, moving forward a little as Chase continued on his current path. "Your acting skills are solemnly on point—"

"Step aside." Chase pushed past the Terrier with a shoulder, her hard fall on the ground seeming to be nothing of worry to him, even leaving a disgusted glance despite only one-fourth of his face was visible. "You're the same weakling you ever were, Sweetie. Why must you be the one to arrive during my entrance? Talk about mockery."

"What?" Sweetie could only stare as she stuttered, Chase's image continuing to follow the path towards the castle, leaving her dumbfounded and, for the first time towards the Shepherd, she was afraid.

"Are you okay, Princess Sweetie?" a guard behind her questioned, watching as the pup stood up and dusted the dirt off.

"I'm okay, I appreciate the concern. Go back to your post."

Immediately, Sweetie ran after Chase, who's ears heard her sprint yet ignored it, regardless of her arrival by his side, only trailing behind by a small margin. She was quiet, her head down and submissive, as if trying not to make the male angry. It reminded her of the prince who assaulted her back during the celebration in the same castle they were heading towards. They've been silent like that until they've reached the castle doors.