A high pitched yap. Rook jolted awake. He leapt to his feet, his eyes adjusting to the light. His nose smelt the strong, pungent smell of dog. There was another, loud, bone shattering bark. Rook located the dog, on one of the dirt roads. Without a second look back, Rook fled. He leapt over the small river and sprinted down the next field. He was wide awake. But as he ran, he heard the loud, thudding footsteps of something chasing him. The dog. Rook felt a brief surge of panic. He darted through the field, trying to find a place to hide. A place to climb. Anything. In the distance, Rook barely registered the sound of a human, calling to its dog. 
            "Mookie!" called the human angrily. "Mookie! Come back! Mookie." Rook didn't stop, he could hear the dog at his feet. Rook increased his pace. His feet barely touched the ground. He streaked through the field until finally, he was met with a tree trunk. Without a moment of hesitation, heart banging in his chest, Rook shot up the tree. He scrambled higher and higher. Mookie, the dog, kept barking below. Rook climbed to the top most branch. It was slightly flimsy. He looked down through the branches and leaves. The dog was truly terrifying. It had glistening black fur with two brown dots above its eyes. It had a docked tail. Muscles rippled under its sleek coat. It snapped up at Rook, eyes fixed on him. Mookie, the rottweiler, was the hunter. Rook was the prey. Mookie leapt up, his claws scratching at the bark. It jumped higher and higher, its teeth snapping upward. It had truly terrifying teeth. His teeth were sharp and accompanied by a powerful, deadly jaw. Each time, the dog seemed to jump higher. Rook was shaking. Suddenly, his foot slipped and the flimsy branch slipped form underneath him. Rook let out a small squeal of terror. He was falling. Falling through the air. He twisted around. Mookie let out a howl of triumph. Rook landed hard on his paws. He was disorientated but wasted no time. He ran in the first direction he landed in. He felt the dog's breath by his head. Then he was knocked to the ground. He tumbled backward, letting out a wail. He was going to die. The dog was going to tear him to shreds. The barking was incessant. Loud, angry, determined. Rook waited for the shark teeth to sink into his neck, ending his life. He waited and waited. The barking continued. But Rook soon realised, although the dog was near and eager to kill him, the dog was unable to get to him. The owner had caught up with it and was holding it back by the collar. Rook rolled to his feet. He caught sight of the massive rottweiler and the young man holding it firmly by the collar, brow creased with sweat. 
           "No Mookie. Stop it. Leave it!" the man attempted to calm the rottewiler down to no avail. Rook shook himself and shot off. He heard the dog give out wails of frustration as Rook disappeared out of sight. When the barking finally stopped, Rook collapsed to the ground, panting hard. He couldn't believe it. What a great start to the morning. Rook wanted to curl back up and sleep but he didn't think he would be able to do that. He didn't think he would ever be able to sleep peacefully again. Rook licked the small scratch he had got from the fall then stretched. He padded towards a tree and climbed up. He scanned his surroundings. He had a few large fields to go before he reached the first few houses. He could do that. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Rook leapt down the tree and headed for the houses. He trotted at a quick pace, his ears and eyes sharp. Halfway towards the houses, walking down a corn field, Rook's stomach grumbled. Rook suddenly felt his hunger. It was desperate. He wanted food. Needed it now. Abandoning the sight of the houses, Rook instead turned his attention to hunting. He could hunt. Yes, he could hunt. He knew how to hunt. He had had hunting lessons. He could do this. Taking a deep breath, Rook padded slowly on the hunt for food. He was no longer the prey, he was the hunter. And he liked it much better this way. After fifteen minutes of prowling, Rook finally heard a scuttling sound. Rook froze. He located where the sound was from, deciding that it must be mouse. Then he slowly crept towards it. He breathed as quietly as possible. Then through the short blades of grass, Rook spotted the mouse. Without a moment of though, Rook shot his front paw out. He felt it collide with the mouse's light body. The mouse let out an alarmed squeak and tried to get back to its feet but Rook was faster. Rook drove his sharp teeth into the mouse. It went limp. Rook was overjoyed. He dropped to the ground and ate. He gobbled up the whole mouse, not wasting a single bit. Then he was off again, making his long tedious way towards the houses. The beginning of the journey to find his family.