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The royal dogs

of galantis

By Will Street
english-bulldog-562723_1920.jpg
Chapter 1

She darted further.  She darted further, sensing something.  She could feel the expanse.  She could feel the expanse of eternity.  The ice bit harshly against her.  Prodding and disturbing her skin, the ice bit against her like an obelisk.  The precipice was there.  The precipice was there in front of her.

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Slam!  Her head jumped forward with a projectile vomit.  She had woken up.  It appeared she had been in a dream.  Stretching her torso upward, her eyes peered around the room nonchalantly.  Her mattress was across the floor and there were two windows on adjacent walls.  Blinking several times, she gathered herself and cried a great yawn.

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Her limbs felt relaxed and she found comfort in idly stretching her muscles.  Placing them across her mattress, her mind fell delicately back to sleep.  Two hours later, her endeavours were rectified as she felt the warm rush of consciousness filter through her brain.  Lying flat across the cushions she was fully awake and she stared across the room.  The young girl stood up and paced delicately towards the hallway.  

Her emotions immediately became euphoric as she gazed at her housemaid idly stepping across the hallway.  “Mother Francesca!”  She cried jubilantly.  “What is it that you’ve planned for us on this beautiful sunny morning??”

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Francesca continued her upright demeanour but spoke eagerly to her enamoured companion.  “We shall go to the beach!”  She cried.  “We shall go to the beach as we’ve always dreamt of!”

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So the occasion was set and ready to unravel.  A cohort of roughly ten tourists combined amongst the pack in what was a brief walk to the beach.  Francesca and her husband, Derek, were the leaders of the team and they were joined by 7 other close friends and siblings.

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The crowd of holidaymakers were, in fact, all dogs.  They lived on a planet of dogs.  There were no humans or bears or elephants but simply just dogs.  They indeed had a government, police service and all the trappings of an ordinary society.  But it was a world of only our 4-legged friends.  Yes, they were dogs, but the planet had oceans and continents and the dogs had domesticated it pleasantly.

 

They had amusement parks, shops, pubs and restaurants.  The dogs were a friendly sort and for several millennia had possessed the gift of speech.  The usual cack-handed phrases or urban slang commonly included phrases like “how pleasant to meet you, old chap!” and “I can smell something that we must chase!”  Yet they had also become a more erudite clan.  First and foremost amongst this was their psychopathy.  They had developed ways of discerning emotions, so exact and so far developed that they were like a stealthy group of interrogators that nothing could get past them.

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And it is here that we find the group of dogs emerging at the sandy beach in front of the sea.  In a world-changing turn of events, they had decided rather to explore the amusement park closer to the pier and carpark.  Assembling themselves on a boat that seemed to pass through a water ride, they witnessed the metal girders shut down on top of them and a voice seem to bellow out from a tannoy.

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“My name is Francesca Dogster!”  The voice extolled ardently.  “And I am here to introduce you to the ride of “Stealth Dungeons!”  She gathered herself before muttering some more words. “Close your eyes and let the simple river of tranquillity sweep you off your feet!  There, above your left shoulder is Olympus!  Towering behind is the sacred scrolls that contain our constitution.  These were written when our very first dog kingdom was founded!  Sit back and relax further, taking note to feel your lungs breathe in and out.  Above your heads are the stars that guided the very first dog colonies across this planet.  The formation was created when the first of the solar systems was set in place.  It enabled these primitive canines with a means of geography.”  

But not before the ten dogs could charge their way onwards passionately.  The four-pawed ruffians brandished their way to the first, second and third floors, before lunging through their bedroom doors.  Inside was something more special.  Once inside, they dedicated themselves to an afternoon snooze on their mattresses.

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Three hours later, they were all due to present themselves at the hotel bar.  The group was destined to begin an enjoyable soirée.  Derek, the leader of the clan, was always first.  He made sure that he was always present to tick others off the list.  However, it was Diana, Mike and Julia who came next, followed by some nondescript others and lastly Romulus.  It was Romulus who seemed disgruntled and unsettled this particular evening.

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Indeed the group decided to enjoy one or two drinks in the hotel bar area first.  It was a form of canine pre-lash.  It was a pre-lash that seemed particularly virulent that evening as the early warmth of summer inebriated the world of dogs like they had been blessed by their creator.

Chapter 2

The next day, the group of holidaying dogs ventured out once again. They continued in the same relaxed fashion, a fashion that gave little concern to Romulus’ moaning.  But they were more than that. They were a team that forewarned of their glorious past.  They were a community that had grown so strong it had become a pack.

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Francesca was accustomed to call out to the rest of the pack and lead them to the nearest restaurant.  Derek would crack a joke, before Richard would slide in there and tell Derek that he better watch his age.   It was a community that relied on interdependence.  It was a community that relied on friendship, rushing as it was through the vortex of infinity.

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Being three days into their trip – a swell beginning of their excitements –  they had opted on this particular morning to head straight away to the Park Of Thieves on the eastern side of the town. They all grabbed a coffee and made haste to the royal gardens. They bustled through and hurried onwards before, they hoped gaspingly, it was not yet overcome with tourists.  

Arriving there thirty minutes later, Francesca laid down her paws and curled soporifically on the grass.  Richard could smell the pollen in the air – the sweet and juicy fragrance – that perked him up almost as if in a frenzy.  However, the group of ten mostly collapsed upon the grass in a slumber.  They collapsed in a slumber and let the flowing atmosphere sway back and forth above them.

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The rich smell of the grass radiated across their noises like a human with nicotine. Imaginary heifers seemed to belong to these lands, flocking and departing viscerally, before the pigs would return and set fire to Olympus.  Proud Zephyrus was there emerged in his gold! He was there in a gold that could unite all senses.

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Capturing their attentions, rather, was the captivating array of colours that beamed from a collection of Morris Dancers performing from across the park’s lake.  Their craft was tangible.  They could sway back and forth like a ticking clock, ready to dive in, ready to dive into the attack.  Yet the question of their soul was lacking.  The red beacons of their bodily corpus lacked the self-confidence to rid themselves of the frailty.  They failed as yet to rid themselves of the frailty their masked faces and costumes brought.   

The voice stopped but ten minutes later resumed across the speakers.  “As we come to the end of this attraction, please collect your belongings and head through to the exit.  You will pass through the store and the Photo Booth where you can purchase a snap of your ride or any other delectable merchandise.”

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This small patch of land upon which the great, mundane amusement park had inhabited, like the great wolves of the dogs ancestors, glowed virulently akin to the collection that surrounded it.  Much of this current city was green and brown - as if the dogs had created a world based on their primitive zeal to set forth on a trail.  It was green and brown like the towering confiners of Earth’s continental lands.  Most of the buildings were still made by wood.  The edifices were made by wood that the dogs used specialised tools to construct into towering batiments.

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The crowd of dogs turned away from the shore and began to embark back towards the hotel they were staying in.  It was a brief stroll through the shops and bars of the town before they arrived at a sand-coloured villa that, befitting their grandeur, had been awarded five stars for its luxury.  Inside, an elaborate hallway gleamed passionately.   Above an ornate trellised floor, a grand staircase transcended upwards towards the sky.  The limestone slabs of the sweeping staircase seemed decadent in the wind.  

However, after ten minutes, Romulus called Francesca aside and urged her to listen to his turbulent difficulties.  He grabbed her by the paw and motioned the both of them to trudge aside from the party.  Sweeping beneath some curtains, he held two of her paws and glared at her ardently.  After hesitating to open up with groan, at last he pronounced some heartfelt words.  “Francesca!  Francesca!”  He cried passionately.  “You must believe me!”  He shuffled again nervously.  “I felt it last night!  It happened again this morning!”  He paused and steadied himself.  “I think I’m becoming a wolf!”

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Francesca seemed put off and immediately set about discrediting her poor friend.  “You must stop this!”  She shot aggressively.

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Romulus simply smirked and continued onwards.  “I can’t!”  He bludgeoned fiercely.  He then looked repulsively into Francesca’s eyes and stared firmly.  “I won’t!”

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Francesca dismissed his beliefs with a cackle and shot across some more insults.  “Control yourself!”  She spat viciously.  “Control yourself for all our sakes!”

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Romulus rather glared across like a fierce wolf.  “There is something out there, my dear!”  He cried staunchly.  “There is something out there tugging at my fur like a leopard reaching out from ayonder!”

For the dogs?  They lay on the grass as if they could do it forever. Their four-poster bed was everywhere, ready to smother, ready to snuggle, perched as it was in a prescient state of tranquillity.

      

Nothing could come in between them and happiness.  A rugged mountainous pathway, with ravines stretching through the rocks and crevasses, climbed wretchedly along the void space towards the dishevelled stone tor at the top.   The sky in these lands was always dark, dark like the mighty stones at the summit.  The might of the canine oracle rested there.  It had remained dormant in this cage ever since the first of the canine kingdoms.

  

The oracle began swiftly, offering trinkets here and there.  It howled mightily, bellowing within the hollow caves.  How it looked down from that mountain and remembered every citizen!  Yet the atmosphere was electrified.  It sparkled in the abyss.

Great titans shook the very fabric of the stone.  Tempests, wild and virulent, commanded the hellish rocks that were catapulted in the air.  Dark storm clouds covered the arena in an apocalyptic terror.  Ancient warriors, enlivened by the battering hardships this savage world enlisted, could only offer a wretched escape from the vicious sandstorms that pulverised across the land.

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The dogs took one look at the mountains, the rock and the solemn grotto and deciphered their much desired question.  “When will this land know our true longing for peace??”  A dog named Jacob asked virulently.  “When will the journeying of our clan reach its counterpoint??”  Jacob bellowed further.

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The sacred oracle, named Kingston, swept across before climbing into an enlarging figure.  White, draping clothing combined with his proud white staff took full space in the marble temple and he arched down, ready to give his testimony. 

“This land is free to anyone who wants to live here!”  He cried solemnly.  His words paused and he seemed more circumspect.  “But do not think simple rules cannot be abided!”  He continued further.  He turned around, took a step backward and seemed more circumspect.  “There was once a tale about a dog who overstepped his search for justice.”  He turned around and directed his attention at the crowd of dogs in front of him.  “After years searching for his lover, he finally came across her dead body, stifled in the corner of a cave.”  He looked at the floor and seemed disgruntled.  “He had lost all mercy because of it.  He was a beast only able to wreak hell.”

 

That was the end of the oracle’s story and he merely peered at the stone around them, peeved and disgruntled throughout his mind.  Jacob could see the oracle’s languishing and stepped forward ready to reply with an audacious response.  “We will not let the land of dogs turn to terror!”  Jacob cried ardently.  “We will ensure that the canine kingdoms only engender love and compassion for all dogs alike.”  He stepped forward and pronounced his words more virulently.  “We will ensure the dogs’ salvation!”

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The primitive hamlets of the dogs were the location these ancestral dogs returned to that night.  Sweeping away like ghosts and ghouls, their society grew and grew until it found itself as we are now, with Francesca and the rest of her clan.

Chapter 3

The following day witnessed the day of a canine science exhibition. The reason Francesca had opted to take her friends and children to the lands of Norway had been because she was due to represent the company she worked for at the European Science Exhibition. The revered enterprise was, in fact, named Polaris Canine.  It was essentially a satellite company that sent and maintained satellites in space.

   

In fact, early that morning Francesca dragged her family and friends that had joined her on holiday to a local coffee shop where they were due to meet three other Polaris Canine employees who were prepared to exhibit their presentation alongside Francesca.

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After four hours of idle small-talk and pleasantries the exuberant playing field was set.  In fact, it was set ready like a polar bear in the sky.  Dropped like a pin above a nail was the atmosphere upon that chamber.  It could be caught like the bite of the wind in the middle of December.

They tried to rummage through it as well.  They very well could have coloured my insides like a foaming pheasant.  They could have stuffed me with their cock until they were ready to light up the party.  A very fine swan I would have been at that point.  Some kind of Neolithic sacrifice would therefore have been my purpose, like a goat bellowing upon a Viking horn.

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The man decided to touch his cock instead.  He virulently upholstered his erection like he was free.  They would say he had become the lady of the manor, the secret whore who would take it back and forth.  But he didn’t care.  He was destined to spunk upon eternity.

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All of them fell asleep that night. They fell asleep and forgot all about it.  Their task on Earth had finished.  And they knew perfectly and exactly how to celebrate. 

But each fierce canine contestant battered against the pull of gravity that shone and disseminated across the harbours of their shores.  They were illiterate seals in a tundra of werewolves.  Flags above their turrets spoke of their armour.  It was either their armour or the invigorated pull of humanity.

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After several beleaguered hours of presentations, it came to Francesca’s turn, who promptly stepped up to the stage.  She stepped up to the stage while ushering her colleagues behind her who seemed more like rats.

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The destined occasion was a delving into the Bacchanalian Mysteries.  Serpents were thrown left and right.  Insults were caste from the crowd as it came to the questions and answers at the end.  The full pulsation of Grecian entropy beguiled all who witnessed them.  It beguiled them because they did not yet know the truth.  They were living in a particular world.  They were living in a particular world that most reminded me of my anus.

Yet just before Romulus went to bed, he snuck surreptitiously along the hotel corridor.  He was searching for Francesca, a person who he believed could be his silver lining.  Yet fretting as he was, the mere 1st floor hallway appeared as a shadowy descent, as if it were leading him downwards to a land of convicts.  The carpet was almost shaking him, derailing his sense of control.  Yet he gathered himself and nocked heavenly on what he thought was Francesca’s door.

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The abrupt salesmen opened the door viciously.  “What the fuck do you want??”  Cried Francesca viciously.  “It’s 5am in the morning!”  She peered at him as if he were a dissident night gown.  “Time for you to stop fucking everyone off!”

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Noticing it was indeed Francesca, Romulus paused for a second but then began pleading with her shortly afterwards.  

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“I’m sorry!  I’m sorry!”  He cried first profusely.  “I’ve been thinking of something!”  He cried further.  He then attempted to leverage himself through the door as Francesca stood ajar.  He took a moment and then seemed to cry to himself.   “Think what it would be like to run your hand through its silky fur!”  He cried with almost bemoaning.  “I’m talking about wolves!”  He said further.  “The intricate and subtle benevolence each proudly possesses!”  He seemed to swell with tears as he spoke.  “As if its delicate alignment seems to pull towards you, urging me to snuggle with that being rampantly.”

“I can’t take it any longer!” Shot back Francesca viciously.  “There is no rhyme or crime or anything benign about being a dog!”  She simply spat in reply.  “There is no hate to berate or demonstrate to anyone!”  She continued sternly.  “Canine friends don’t pretend or descend into any demeanours!  It’s as simple as that!”

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Yet despite Francesca’s words, something extraordinary unravelled in front of her.  Neither praying for hope nor pledging allegiance to anything, something happened to Romulus so egregious it shook the entire hall with blazing light.  In a mystical experience, Romulus began to glow in a sharp bright light, climbing into the air as if in some way he was metamorphosing.  The spectacle was dazzling all space surrounding the couplet, before the shining glow dissipated and what was left was the pure form of Romulus.

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Romulus had been transformed into a wolf.  His comfy canine corpus had now been changed into sharp nails and biting teeth.  Gone were the pleasant eyes, the soft belly, his fur now grey and white.  Piercing through the fog, his muscles looked venomous for all to observe.

“Dipper dipper dap!  Dipper dipper dap!”  Sounded the almighty chiming of his tongue as if he were a general leading a Satanic army.  “Dipper dipper dap!  Dipper dipper dap!”  It continued again.  He snarled viciously at the maiden in front of him.  He looked at her importance.  He looked at her moral worth.  He looked at her delicate fringe stretching across her forehead.  He looked at her despondent smile, aggressive eyes but soft demeanour and simple tranquillity.

 

He was ready to charge.  He was ready for an assault.  As such, he turned and glared along the corridor.  It took him just a couple of seconds before he realised his primitive instincts.  He was a savage beast, a man ready to sweep away into the shadows of the night.  So he flew away from hotel and corridor on which he stood.  He was destined to make a return to the wilderness.  His fate was to cast aside the cage and live in freedom.

THE END

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