Obelisk had been cheery company on the short walk to the Lake. As he leaned on her shoulder, though, he also made gruff jokes that Gypsy sometimes misplaced.

Once, he'd said "Wouldn't I be let down, if I was a she-dog walking alongside someone as ugly as me!"

Gypsy had uncertainly attempted to reassure him, but he'd shook his head.

"I'm just joking, hon." He said in a southern sort of old man way. She wagged her long, thin tail happily. But the old dog's tone had dropped to a soft, serious one now.

"Thank you for feeding me today. And for taking me to the lake. I hardly walk," he admitted grudgingly as Gypsy supported the male along the evening-lit path. There was a harsh orange hue blanketing the forest, but Gypsy figured they had at least an hour left before dark.

She felt her chest seize with pity for the old brown dog. He felt nearly as light as a feather against her shoulder, and wobbled on incredibly thin legs.

"You know, I hope you have someone to take care of you when you're this old. You've got a good heart, Gypsy. I might a've only known ya a day but I can tell ya got more love then most. And I know it's because of somebody takin it from ya in the past," he murmured along the end and cast a knowing look her way.

The quant old dog's head was so close to her's that they mingled breaths. Gypsys tail quivered with the senior's wisdom and observation.

"Thank you, that's very kind. I-... Nobody's ever said anything so nice about me before." She wagged her tail and tried to make a joke like his.

"And hey, you're not that old! You're middle-aged and spry," the she-dog giggled. "Or at least, you will be after I fatten you up." Young Gypsy smiled, her white pelt shining as they burst out of the trees and onto the lake shore.

Even Obelisk's dusty pelt was tipped-orange under the fiery sun. The clouds had parted to expose its full warmth, as both dogs glimpsed the pebbly shore below.

The slope was a shallow incline; but the female still made her way slowly down it next to Obelisk. He slipped once and fell against her legs, but Gypsy kept moving after he stood up again, unbothered.

The weather was too good to even think about being impatient or "too slow." With fragile care, she led the male into the water.

Both the lake's pebbles and it's waves reflected the sky's wash of brilliant orange and yellows. Poofy clouds strutted discreetly across the horizon, some distant and hazy.

She turned to the old brown dog and nosed a few droplets of water over his back. He, too, had been watching the sunset. But his pelt was still twitching with the flea bites.

"Hey, hey!!!" Chimed the old male.

"Ya didn't say you brought me here to drown me, Gypsy! Get a move on!" He burst into laughter at the end of his sentence. Gypsy's eyes shone with amusement as she flicked more gobs of water against his back.

Then the male sputtered and snorted as if he'd inhaled water. Gypsy ran forwards to inspect but he was already gasping, "Heart attack!" And falling into the water dramatically.

His chest hit the shallow waves at the edge of the lake with a smack as she gasped with laughter. The she-dog could hardly catch her breath, and was sopping wet under the beating sun. Waves rolled against her flanks.

Obelisk loosened his shoulders, then dunked completely under the water and rose again with a head-flick. He then shook the leftover moisture out of his body, retreating a few steps out of the lake so it only reached his ankles.

Gypsy contentedly followed him after dunking her own dusty pelt in the lake as well. She shook it off, spraying water onto the male.

He glanced at her with friendliness.

"I haven't had any fun in ages. Thanks again. But... before you want to head back-"

Without thinking, Gypsy defensively interrupted him.

"I don't want to head back for Bronx, I-"

"Wait, listen. I need to say something before I forget and then we leave, is all." He peered at her seriously for a moment.

Calmly, Gypsy blinked her butterscotch brown eyes at him. "Okay, tell me." She felt eager to hear the drama being spilt.

The old male dropped his voice to a whisper, but there was no one on the lakeshore within sight. She leaned close to hear better anyway.

"My grandson isn't as good of a dog as he says he is. He hasn't fed me in days, weeks... I don't know. I... can't remember... remembering..."

The old dog began to ramble as Gypsy's heart sank.

I can't believe everything he's saying right now. He's having a...amnesia episode? And this is exactly what Bronx warned me about. Plus, he-...He threatened to kill that grey she-dogs pups...

"I'll still make sure you're fed after today," Gypsy interrupted again after tuning him out with her thoughts.

"Thank you, Gypsy," he replied; but his gaze was still a bit faraway.

"I remember my son. Boy, was he ever a better Leader than Bronx is. He was everything... a brave dog-loyal... and wise beyond his years. He even caught a deer once. A real deer! Can you imagine? A-course, I was there. It was delicious."

Gypsy patiently waited for the reminiscing to finish and sat down on her haunches.

"What happened to him?"

The old male looked away and sighed. She almost apologized for asking, but he spoke anyways.

"His name was Hank. He was the biggest dog you ever saw. And-..... and..." For awhile, he couldn't finish.

"I can't remember what happened to him, but I know he's dead now. What was it?... Old age or perhaps a brain tumor... eh who cares 'cause he's dead now."

The male dog sighed methodically.

"That's the thing, missus. Nobody cares about old dogs or dead dogs. Except God."

"Who's that?" Gypsy asked, and the male dog's eyes popped out so much she could see their whites.

"What kind of question is that? Honey, he's all of it. The trees, the sky, the earth, the afterlife. And in the living as well."

"How?" She asked again, genuinely curious. God didn't sound like a person, but he must be if he had a name. She was intruiged.

"He lives in some of us in various ways. There's spirits, for one. Spirits on earth, and guardian angels sent down to help all species. And God sends life to the earth with birth and new plants appearing. If you think about it, we didn't make all of this. So who did?" He implored, turning and staring at her quellingly.

Gypsy nodded acceptance quickly. But after the last few sentences, she had grown more unsure.

He did suffer from some sort of random-occurance delusion and forgetfulness. However, that didn't make Gypsy like him any less. She just wasn't sure what information was true or not yet. I'll figure it out on my own.

"Sorry for going back on a previous topic, but don't you think Bronx is a good dog for at least letting North stay here to raise her puppies?" Gypsy asked. She had felt disloyal hearing the condescending tones in the male's voice while he spoke of his grandson.

And that's why they seem to have a strained relationship. They both resent each other for what one's not and what one is. Gypsy figured she might sway the grandfather's opinion of his kin.

But then, he looked confused. The old male cocked his head briefly before opening his mouth.

"Wh-"

"GYPSY-!" Some dog yipped from a great distance away, the bark ringing throughout the trees. Her eyes flicked up, and she lept fully out of the water onto the lakeshore.

The white Pitbull's fur lifted in shock. The voice belonged to Ace.

She flicked her head back towards Obelisk as her entire body began to tingle with excitement, wonder, and shame.

"Get on, go ahead. I reckon that must be a friend o' yours."

But Gypsy was inclined not to agree. After all, the male dog could hardly walk. How would he make it back to his tree with no support?

"Hon, if I can rise from my tree long enough to relieve myself away from it, I can rise long enough to walk that short distance back from here. Go on now," urged the male's kind voice as he rose shakily to his paws.

"Thanks so much," Gypsy gasped as she heard Ace howl her name again. She flipped her head around, towards the sound of the call.

Without another thought, the she-dog tried to race forward. However, she slipped on the lakeshore pebbles and banged her chin. As Obelisk chuckled, the Pittie picked herself up. She ran for the dying light as fast as she could, away from the lake and through the trees like a zigzagging cheetah.

"Ace! I'm here!" Gypsy called back loudly from the tree-line. She swerved around an expanse of heather stems and pounded her way up the hill-top, where she saw Ace and Ghost's figures waiting for her.

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Another idealized photo of The Lake that the dogs live around