(image shown on Media Board is Grey Dog)

There was, indeed, an order to things here in The Yard. Flare had learned all about it in the months she had grown up here, seeing trees grow from brittle withered branches into luscious blooming buds and leaves.

But Flare only saw that over the very tops of the fence... And rarely smelled the tree's scents, either. She had found that the yard actually wasn't as huge as she'd thought it was. The yellow dog actually yearned to smell anything outside of it nowadays, to go farther than just the wooden slabs. And after growing big enough to knock over the black bin full of delicious smells, she had done just that after her belly curdled and growled for food all throughout the days.

She knew now that it was a rule of The Man not to do that, though. And she'd refused to fight for her food, instead choosing to hold out until the other  dogs were finished and then sniffing around.

She had also taken advantage of the young woman's monthly appearances, who turned up to favor her the most whilst growing up. A few half dozen steak bones once a month, however- were not enough for even a small dog.

Because of that, she was almost a walking skeleton, skinnier than any other dog in The Yard... Just like Jax had said all those months ago. Perhaps that's why she hadn't been used as a fighting or breeding dog yet; she looked too sickly. Her pelt was untidy no matter how much she licked it, and her ribs and haunches poked painfully though her skin when she laid down.

Which, laying down was most of what she did anyways. In her acclaimed spot right next to the house and porch, where there was a slab of shade at certain times of day. The only downside was that she was nowhere close to the dog houses or patch of grass that the other dogs used for urinating and defecating. Flare did her business in the opposite corner of the house and fence, past the trash can and where the dogs and humans rarely strayed. The grass was tall and uncut over there, but she could flatten it and so had.

It was also a monthly occurrence for The Man and other human to raise their voices in emotional screeches at each other. More rarely, The Man would even fling things about in the home whilst screeching, or storm out of the front door and get in his truck to ride away.

The dogs didn't pay much attention to that, though. What bothered Flare the most about the humans was that The Man would take dogs to the shed to fight each other.

It usually happened once a week, with two weeks or so off every now and then. Still, one night per several days was enough for her, because the blood-curdling sounds that erupted from the shed filled every dog's ears and put them on edge.

Flare was always stationed at her spot near the house, so she could usually just flatten her ears to block out the sounds and make them unrecognizable. She understood now why the dog houses weren't used even though they offered the best shade and shelter, why the dog's here never allowed each other to have friendships.

They were encouraged to wound each other terribly because of The Man, and most nights after a fight, a dog was led through the back gate- apart of the fence and so well blended in that the only sign of it was the black latch. Flare had imagined it as a possible escape route, but it was too tall for her to interact with the latch, and too heavy to push or move. Plus, any dogs who were led into the shed were always done so by being led out on a leash, and the door was always quickly shut. The dog houses and chains had been placed close to the back door for a reason; The Man chained up the dogs for that night's fight. According to him, they had to use the dog house area until their injuries were a bit healed.

Flare knew she was grimly lucky not to have become a 'Fighting Dog', or a 'Breeder' yet. She had focused on recognizing each area of the yard, each spot for daily food, water, or shade, and each timing of a human coming or going at each time of day. Her and the other dogs relied on that structure to not grow insanely bored and restless every day. They fought over the resources in the yard, but each dog's place had ultimately not changed from the time she had arrived. If anything, White Dog was the most in charge, but Grey Dog could have been if he'd wanted to. He was the most resilient to pain, and had the young body and strong jaws to inflict it as well.

There was two water buckets near the ridgid black tires. The tires and water buckets themselves had already been claimed by Grey Dog and White Dog. If any other dog wanted a drink, including Jax and Mocha, they had to wait until the claimer of the bucket was asleep or ask them. Though it was revolting and pointless from Flare's perspective, the male dogs also marked their water buckets and would argue if they thought one's scent had touched another's.

Past that, the hefty chains sat in the grass un-used as usual. This was because the chains were primarily used for dogs that were healing. No dogs used the dog houses by choice unless it became extremely hot; and even then Flare chose to find a slab of shade near the house. The dog-houses were worn and smelled of blood and urine, where dogs had bled out because of wounds or marked the wood. Since the male dogs had marked them so many times over, they had discolored paint and unattractive yellow lines all over the sides and entrance.

Flare was constantly having that smell in her nostrils, because the male dogs did it all day- along the fence, on the tires, tufts of grass, and even right in front of the females. Mocha didn't seen to mind, or didn't show it. Though it was revolting and so strong it swamped the other scents, Flare had never confronted the male dogs about it. Even when they came right over to her, smelling, marking, barking or nipping, she tried to remain indifferent and submissive. It was harder now that she was basically three times the size, and couldn't just melt into the ground like a floppy puppy.

They'd called her useless, and made fun of her even more when Flare did not respond. In her mind, it was better to ignore the taunting rather than acknowledge it with more of the same.

Jax had become more and more arrogant over the middle and end of winter, then throughout the foliage of spring. The male dog got into fights with Grey Dog and White Dog over the tires and water-buckets. The males seem to take it personal after they've had a dog fight in the shed, and lost.

Becoming a formidable opponent, Jax had reached his peak weight and height, which was not as tall as Flare was now. However, the stout bully never missed a chance to goad on the tan dog when she looked or moved a certain way. The innocence of puppy-hood was completely gone from him, if there had ever been any. He made it clear to her that she was serving no purpose in the yard, to which all the others agreed. Flare guessed that Jax had something going in in his head where he thought that he belonged in the Yard much more than Flare did, and perhaps the other dogs as well. Without coming outright and saying it, he acted better than the other dogs.

And another thing- Flare didn't like that he seemed to pay attention to her more than any other dog in the yard. He was watching or circling around her too often. Recently he had been doing this even more.

The male dog was already sitting close by when she slowly lifted her ears out of expectation. The dogs had recently been fed, so Jax was licking his paws close by. The Man should've gotten in his truck and left for work by now, so it seemed like he had a day off today. Just as Flare was thinking this, Jax spoke loud enough beside her for the entire yard to hear.

"The Man has a day off work!" He said cheerily, in an even better mood than usual. His tongue was hanging out of his mouth, which was the norm for him. The tan dog suspected that Jax often panted when he wasn't even hot. Most likely, this was because of his flat face making it harder to breathe.

"Maybe he'll bring his pack-mates for a fight in The Shed tonight," he wondered aloud in an eager tone. Across the yard, White Dog huffed and shook his jowels.

"We don't want to hear anymore about your goading of the last fight," he said gruffly. The wrinkles around his head and face were riddled with scars and bite-holes, but none of them were as recent and raw as Grey Dog's.

"The Man does seem to fight them a lot now-adays," commented Mocha.

"No reason to brag!" Snarled Grey Dog as his head snapped up. The other dogs all flinched, startled as his teeth and gums flashed towards them.

"Quit showing your teeth, unless you want to back it up." White Dog showed his own canines back, but Flare couldn't see his full face from this angle.

Grey Dog said something she couldn't catch, and she lowered her ears again. It was typical for the male dogs to challenge each other after a fight, especially towards whoever had bloody wounds still. They all liked to take advantage of weakness, but it seemed like no dog had ever been a real alpha here. Direct orders that were obeyed religiously only came from The Man, who the dogs seemed greatful towards, for feeding them and giving them The Yard to live in.

Mocha leaned down to itch between her toes as the two males growled louder and louder, and Jax swaggered over to her on his thick legs. He approached and went to sniff her tail end, then marked the ground near the female brindle.

"Get on with you," she growled threateningly. Mocha sat up on her toes when Jax didn't relent, head following the bully-dog's in a stance that said 'I-Will-Bite-You-If-You-Come-Closer.'

"But you smell different," Jax muttered, and turned around to snuffle all over Mocha's face. She curled her lip but didn't move from her position to bite him yet. By this time, Grey Dog and White Dog had their attention on those two.

"GET ON WITH YOU, I said!" Jax's nose skimmed her back and Mocha snarled, pulling up her teeth to snap for Jax's nose. Jax seemed surprised as it landed and jumped back, ripping the leathery part of his nose out of her jaws. Flare twitched her nose, trying to catch the scent of blood that she was sure must be there, but the wind wasn't blowing in the right direction.

"Fine, SHE-DOG!"

Jax had flinched away from the bite of Mocha and seemed to think Flare would be friendlier to his nosiness instead. He began loping towards her again. He stopped a few flank-lengths away and Flare could finally scent the blood that dribbled from his nose, but she didn't comment. As per her usual, she stayed silent and still as Jax complained.

Flare's nose twitched as the gentle wind changed direction and blew Grey Dog's scent towards her. With his tail up and legs stiff in an authorative way, he stalked up to Mocha and smelled her all over. This time Mocha's lip twitched but her teeth didn't show.

White dog was interested now, too. He rose up off of his haunches and plodded to a space alongside the other two.

"It smells as if Mocha is ready to mate," he said with a noticeable nose-twitch. Flare cocked her ears, wondering what that meant, but all she could detect was a metallic scent that was barely there, and attached to Mocha's initlal furred scent. Flare could only conclude that being ready to mate had something to do with being a breeding dog, as Mocha was labeled as by the others.

"What's that mean?" Flare said quietly, speaking for the first time in months.

This is the first time I've said a full sentence in so long, she realized.

Still, her voice came out croaky and too quiet, and Jax cocked an ear as if he were about to ask her to repeat it, so they other dogs could hear her.

Luckily, they were having their own conversation, so Jax responded after glancing over to them. His wide jaw and head came closer to hers, and she held back from wincing at the smell of his breath and coat.

"It means that a female dog is ready to have puppies, basically."

"What?" Flare almost yelped, confused as ever. She studied Mocha and realized that the female dog looked nearly as skinny-bellied as her. There's no way; my mother had a full, swinging belly because of the milk. Mocha must have not had puppies yet, but she is supposed to soon?

"Well, when will she?" Flare meant to say have her puppies after that, but she was so not used to speaking that she left it out. Her voice was becoming less broken, but it sounded strange and feminine to her ears. Jax, too, seemed surprised that she was uttering more than a single word, and had his ears pricked and laid his eyes on her. At least for a moment, he wasn't being a bully.

"Well, the male dogs will mate with her some times for a few days," he said thoughtfully, his forehead creasing as if he didn't know all the details. Flare hesitated to let him continue speaking, still not understand at all what male dogs had to do with it.

"Then her belly will get big like our mother-dog's did before we were born, to swell up with milk and the puppies inside. And then she'll have the puppies."

The tan dog felt a bit squeamish about how much she didn't understand, so she tuned into the dog's conversation across the yard.

"-and I've won the most fights. I should get to!" Grey dog had his head lowered and sounded much more aggressive than the others. White dog sounded impatient and a bit annoyed.

"I'm telling you, The Man doesn't care who mates with her. She's just in the yard to breed with any or every male here, like Tan Dog is! " Flare froze as Grey Dog snuck her a look. His glance drifted away almost immediately, though, and Flare let herself sink into the soft dirt. She was one-hundred percent sure that Grey Dog didn't want her to respond.

"I don't care. You and Jax can mate with Flare when she's in heat, now that you mention it." His teeth flashed, as they often did. White Dog backed away this time, seeming taken aback that the grey pit-bull was perfectly willing to fight for what he wanted- even with healing wounds on his pelt from the previous fight two nights ago.

"I'm mating with Mocha!" He snapped, teeth clicking together. "I'm sure The Man wants us to have puppies. She's not even your size and looks nothing like you," he said to White Dog with a curled lip. Somehow he looked even more disrespectful as he looked up and down White Dog's body, and then pointedly at his severed ears.

"That's what I thought," he said when the tall wrinkly male didn't respond.

"And Jax, you can fight me again, too, if you were thinking about it. I'm not scared."

The black and white-bully didn't peer towards the others or ackowledge that comment. With his back to Grey Dog, Flare watched him give a small whine and paw at a swollen lump on his head. Around his ears, he had raw tears and one was so deep that dried blood crusted over it. The female dog almost felt sorry for him, until she recalled how he always bit her ears.

"Not soon," he muttered. Flare sat up to peer around the male dogs and towards Mocha. She was panting in the sun next to the tire, and Grey Dog stood next to her like a guard.

The entire time, she hadn't realized that Mocha hadn't moved or spoken for herself. Instead, she lay on the ground with her legs splayed in front of her, and didn't look towards any dogs in particular. She turned to nibble a flea and Grey Dog eyed her. Flare shuddered at the look; even though it was more of an understanding gaze and not threatening as it had been towards the other male dogs. It was as if Mocha knew what she had to do, accepted it, and would not try to change it.

Why? Flare didn't think Mocha looked happy at the prospect of having puppies-but she also didn't look aprehensive about the idea either. So why let the male dogs boss her around and submit to it?

Oh, right. Flare recalled that the other dogs said The Man placed them here for that reason.

'This is a yard for fighting dogs and breeding dogs.' That had been Grey Dog's words to her time and time again. She once again convinced herself that it would be best to not fight or 'breed' to have puppies. If she wouldn't do either, The Man could take her somewhere else.

Flare knew nothing about being tortured by humans, or being in a puppy mill- or even being in immense pain more than having a shallow bite. So, the thought stuck in her head: anywhere but here. Anywhere but here, could be better.

Growing up in the Yard had been grueling and daunting at first, but now at least she knew how things worked. She could hold out until The Man himself found her useless, too, and then took her somewhere new. If not, she would have to devise some time towards digging herself out from underneath the fence.

The other dogs had seemed huge at first, but now Flare was taller than at least Jax. The same was true for the yard, which basically grew smaller each day because Flare grew bigger each day.

"Then that's settled," Grey Dog growled to nobody in particular, as if it were so important that the wind should've heard it. All the dogs who had been nearby had dispersed.

"Mocha's going to have my pups."

~
Mocha (bit more dark brown than this tho)