Which wasn’t to say they didn’t.  There were only eight members in their group at present, and the turnover rate was pretty damn high, because they had a tendency towards recklessness, infighting and showy displays.

Ahh. But are you sure about that? It kind of sounded like they might’ve gotten a new member, judging by the corpse math. Then again, that was assuming an equal number of people in each location, and that’s not necessarily the case – one could easily have one corpse less. Or maybe one of them killed two people, just because the number nine is important to them for whatever reason.

…I wonder if they had someone wielding a bow at some point.

Jack Slash: “You have my sword.”
Bowwow: “And you have my bow.”
Hatchet Face: “And my axe!”
Bonesaw: “What? Who the fuck are you guys and why are you quoting the Lord of the Rings?”

I could have argued the details, pointed out that most people weren’t aware of the ins and outs of trigger events, I could have argued that some things could get worse if dogs could get powers.  It didn’t feel necessary.

“Yeah,” I agreed.

Sometimes, you don’t need to go into the realistic results. Just appreciate the fantasy.

And the funny mental images.

Do the dogs get costumes, too? Please tell me there’s art of dog versions of some of the capes I’ve met out there!

That was the extent of that dialogue.  We enjoyed another long silence and the dogs competed with one another to fetch the ball.

The sound of a breaking bottle and very human shouts disturbed our peace.

…well, that’s not good. Are some Docks drunkards fighting outside? Or maybe they want to hassle the dogs, unaware that Rachel is present?

“These guys again,” Bitch snarled, moving Sirius’ head from her lap and hopping down from her seat on the pile of concrete blocks.

Rachel has encountered them before, at least.

The black lab turned his head to watch as she stalked towards the front of the building.  Bitch whistled for her dogs and Brutus, Judas and Angelica rushed to her side.

“What’s going on?” I called after her, moving to follow.

She seems to find it necessary to chase them off – it’s almost like she’s straight up getting ready for battle, though at least she doesn’t seem to be powering up the doggos.

“Stay inside,” she told me.

I did as she asked, but that didn’t mean I didn’t try to get closer, to get a better picture of what was going on.  I approached one of the boarded up windows at the front of the building and peeked through a gap in the plywood.

Skitter! What do your bug eyes see?