"I dare you to go and lie on Scary's spot, Scarhead!" the other Crup - a remarkably fair-furred one - provoked.

The Crup with a scar on his forehead hesitated. He liked his position of the most daring pup of the pack very much, however, lying on the spot - and thereby covering it with his scent - of the grumpiest adult Crup, well...

"I knew you were a whimpy!" Whitey smirked. "Come on, guys," he addressed the other pups, "let's leave the coward here, and go to the river."

"Just wait and see who's the coward here, you butterfly!" Scarhead barked furiously, and was glad to see Whitey had got angry too. Of course, the white one didn't like to be called after an insect which presented a stupid, defenceless prey. "I will go there, and then - when I come back - you will have to fulfil a dare I think up!"

He nearly yipped in amusement when he saw Whitey hesitating. The white pup was good at egging on the others, but he didn't have much courage himself. Let's leave him to stew imagining the dangerous dares awaiting him! Scarhead thought to himself gleefully.

Scarhead tried to boost his courage as much as he could, and then headed towards the place mentioned - the favourite night spot of a big, scary, black Crup covered in many scars.

Stupid Whitey, Scarhead cursed under his breath, he had to dare me just before dusk when Scary would be heading back to his night spot.

Scarhead had intended to reach the spot and vacate it again immediately. He certainly wasn't suicidal to think about staying there for more than a second!

He hadn't imagined finding an irresistible-looking rubber thing in the hollow, though. The thing made a soft 'quack' when he pressed it between his jaws. He hadn't meant to play with it, of course, but... 'quack, quack, quack.' Oh my furred goddess, it was heavenly! 'Quack, quack, quack.'  Unknown to him, Scarhead's forked tail was wagging in delight. 'Quack, quack, quack.'

A deep growl put him out of his blissful rapture. The sound was positively murderous!

Scarhead bolted upright. Run! his instinct screamed at him. His little but muscled legs pulled. In that very second, though, a big paw fell on him, pinning him to the ground. Scarhead cried out in fright. The Crup manners demanded submission from him, licking his superior under their chin, turning on his back and presenting his belly. However, the strong paw didn't allow him to move the tiniest bit. The pup wriggled in his try to turn on his back, but the paw only pressed more firmly, making breathing harder. Scarhead whimpered pitifully.

The growling only intensified.

Trapped, Scarhead watched Scary thoroughly lick his rubber toy clean of Scarhead's saliva. Every now and then the big Crup gave him a dangerous glare that promised big punishment as soon as Scary had taken care of his possession. The pup started to cry in earnest. Scary was going to kill him in the most painful way!

By the time Scary had decided his rubber duck was properly cleaned, Scarhead was reduced to a wailing mess. The big Crup poked him with his snout roughly, finally lifting his big paw. The pup turned on his back instinctively, and closed his eyes. He didn't want to see the sharp teeth biting into him!

Scary gave a disdainful snarl and with one sweep of his front leg, he kicked the pup away from his spot. "Run, you dunderhead, before I chase you like a rabbit!" Scary barked.

Scarhead landed with a thud at least three yards away. He cried in pain and swiftly untangled his legs. He hadn't heard Scary clearly; only the words 'Run! Rabbit!' made it through the fog of his fear.

Furry goddess! Scary was going to hunt him!

The pup wasted no time and started running. Without thinking, Scarhead ran deep into the woods, randomly changing directions multiple times, as his instinct ordered him. He ran and ran, madly. He could feel danger behind him, but also, several times he was sure he felt Scary in front of him! Or was it another dangerous creature of the forest?

Scarhead was breathing heavily, and he knew his tired paws wouldn't carry him much longer. He sniffled to himself. He was so dead!

If only he had parents. He would have run back to the pack and hid behind them! Only, he didn't have parents. He even didn't remember them. And now that he was looking around the dark shadows of trees, he realised he also didn't know where he was and how to get back. A sob escaped him.

Scarhead continued wandering through the forest. His pace became slower and slower. Where was he? Everything was so scary! Suddenly, he saw a moon-lit clearing before him. Hopefully there he would be safer? Scarhead was so exhausted! He felt like dying.

..ooOOOoo..

Alice and her husband were sitting on a garden swing, enjoying the warm night and their free time. Neville was a darling and they loved him senseless, but like every toddler, he kept demanding their undivided attention and left them quite exhausted every evening. Alice sighed contentedly and stretched her long, slim legs.

Frank enjoyed the heat Alice radiated. He was more than content to hold her, and let her rest drowsily with her head on his strong shoulder. He loved his son the best when the little devil fell asleep. Suddenly, Frank bolted upright.

"What?" Alice roused worriedly. "Has Neville started crying?"

"No. Look." Frank pointed toward the woods.

She turned to see a small shadow emerge from the bushes on the border of their clearing. Slowly, the shadow got nearer, and soon, she could recognise a small canine frame, with two eyes shining in the moonlight. Thank gods it wasn't a full-moon night, or else she would think it was a young werewolf!

"It's a fox or a small wolf," Frank guessed. "I wonder if it will get nearer."

It did get nearer. Then it collapsed on the ground without even noticing them.

"Stay here," Frank ordered her, and he went to look carefully at what the animal was. Soon, he was back again.

"It's a small dog," he informed her. Seeing her teeth shine in a bright smile, he added. "Don't. It's in a bad shape. Glassy eyes, all covered in sweet, and running a fever. I think I will have to end its suffering."

He turned towards their house to get his wand. Alice's hand stopped him.

"Maybe we could heal the poor thing?" she asked hopefully. She loved animals of all shapes and ages, Frank knew. It was the reason why he had decided to bring his wand rather than suggest she could use her own. She - unlike him - always carried it with her. Frank hated to disappoint her.

"I wouldn't risk it. He might be carrying something contagious." Alice's smile faded. He reasoned with her gently, "What if Neville caught some weird illness, dear? We would never forgive ourselves."

Finally, Alice nodded unhappily, and Frank headed towards their small house. Alice's loud gasp stopped him short. He turned around. A much larger shadow was approaching them from the woods. No, he corrected himself, it wasn't approaching them, but the smaller dog. The bigger animal sniffed the smaller, unmoving one, and didn't acknowledge the two humans apart from showing them his big teeth in warning. Then he carefully took the skin of small dog's scruff of the neck between his teeth and carried him away. Soon, they vanished into the darkness of the woods.

Alice and Frank just exchanged an astonished look.

..ooOOOoo..

Scarhead wrestled Whitey down with a few well chosen tricks, and barked in a triumphant manner. Then he skipped towards Scary. He could see the black Crup was proud of him.

Scary had taken him under his wing - eh, paw - to prevent Scarhead from doing any other idiotic stunts - in his own words. There had been a harsh scolding about having to chase stupid little Crups all around the forest all night and saving them from two-legs. Scarhead had been pretty afraid of his 'rescuer', but soon he had found that the old Crup's bark was worse than his bite. Scary's care was a bit harsh, but he taught his 'adopted' pup lots of useful things. Whitey stood no chance against him now!

Scarhead went to lie down in their hollow and comfortably propped himself against Scary's side, basking in the heat the adult Crup radiated. Before falling to sleep, he gave their rubber duck a gentle squeeze. 'Quack'.