Blossoms (The Girls meet MCD)

Chapter 58: Three of One

Honestly, as much as Stacy adored dogs.

Rabid puppers were NOT a wild fantasy for her.

As if being separated wasn't enough (she admitted it, she had a slight case of monophobia), the first thing she'd been able to come to was that there were a LOT of dogs chasing her.

Growling and paw steps shook the ground, causing a slight rumble in the ground.

A pack of dogs causing a stampede.

Makes sense.

Why the dogs were attacking her?

Wasn't like she knew that much other than, 'RUUUUUUUUUUN-'

Something nipped at her heels.

Kicking backward, her foot collided with something solid, followed by the unmistakable whimper and yelp of an injured dog.

Her heart ached to hear that sound.

But she really wasn't up for becoming a piece of dinner to dine upon.

Even worse, she was on the tiny island she and Amy had built.

The world she'd last been before she left.

The island had been small enough, large expanses of ocean to be seen everywhere.

Swimming would've been okay under certain circumstances, but her tail was gone.

And she was pretty sure the dogs weren't exactly aquaphobic.

For once she cursed the lovely skills of canines.

She took a careful glance backward.

Almost wishing she hadn't she shut her eyes.

That was her mistake.

She'd forgotten one vital thing on the beach.

Quicksand.

Now she realllllly wanted to punch herself in the face.

Her right foot was sinking, left foot still suspended in midair.

The dogs barked, but surrounded her, clever canine eyes glimmering with the satisfaction of the kill.

"No, no! Bad dog- dogs!" Stacy shrieked as a corgi nipped her heel.

A German Shepard barked in fury.

A small chihuahua foamed at the mouth.

There were multiple other breeds, but type didn't matter in life or death situations like these.

She tried backing up onto solid sand with her left foot, but the dogs only crowded closer, cutting off her escapes.

Her left foot found a deceiving patch of quicksand.

Well shoots McToots.

Of all the awestriking deaths she could've been fated to die in, it was quicksand.

Slow and painful.

Talk about slow burn-

'Yip!' A smaller dog yipped. 'Yip yip!'

"What now?" Stacy groaned.

As if things really just wanted to salt up, storm clouds paced in the sky.

Moving quickly, gray collided with clear blue skies, Stacy was absolutely pawsitive it was the work of magic. (I'm sorry, I'll go now-)

Not surprising, but this was a disadvantage considering the 'fortunate' situation.