Bonedog Poem Novels & Stories

The Bonebinder stood in the clearing with chains hanging from his burned arms, and the sound of their slow drag across the earth carved fear into the marrow of every wolf. The fissure behind him glowed faintly red as if the earth itself bled in protest at what had been released, and the ash-scent carried on the wind clung to every breath like a reminder of rot and endings. Kaela did not lower her blade, though her arms trembled from the effort of standing so near to a being that should have been nothing more than ash and memory. Her voice was unsteady yet sharp as she spoke.

He gave off the impression of someone slightly bored. I walked over to him. “Hey. I’m Colin.” He looked me up and down and didn’t seem too impressed by what he saw. He didn’t say anything. “Where’d everyone go?” I asked in a friendly tone. He cocked his head. You’d think he might be more wary of a human, but perhaps he had heard about what happened last night and considered me to be one of the heroes. Then again, maybe he was choosing which bone would be tastiest. Is intimating a dog-person has a thing for bones a sign of prejudice?

Cat bellowed, in a hopeful tone. " I-I... don't have anything cat" Lied Dog, he hated to lie, but it just came out. She slammed her pawn full of painful claws in Street dog's chest, slamming him against the wet, cold and dirty street. "Nothing personal. Everyone loves you, I love you, Street Dog. But, I know when I looking to sack meat and bones. " Dog looked back, even more frightened, but stayed still. "Cat, I AM not FOOD," he replied firmly with a bark.

if bingo had been well, this would have been easier, he reasoned in a mild regret over his injured dog. he then resumed his trace, "this could be an antelope," he whispered has he attempts following the bleeding helpless animal. The sun has begun to rise and will soon begin to burn Adekunle, he kept seeing droplets of blood in large forms which convinced him that the helpless animal must be large... he kept the trace has he spans his eyes 80 degrees round, hours have gone

"Being is what I do when I'm not afraid. And right now, I'm not afraid." "Good." "Good." --- The waves crash. The stars shine. And somewhere inside the house, two dogs dream of running. But we're not running anymore. We're home. End of Chapter 150

"You're being so mean. What if you scare her away? I don't want to be branded as the homewrecker who ruined her friend's relationship." "Woof! Woof!" Daisy squirmed, trying to jump out of my arms. "Bad dog!" Sophie cursed before pretending to cower behind Hayden. "I'm terrified of dogs. Get it away from me." "That awful woman is scolding me again. In my last life, after you died, she was the one who broke my leg!" Daisy nuzzled against me. I shivered. It felt like someone was slamming a hammer into my chest, knocking the air from my lungs.

"The bones are the inside account. The bones are the journals and the Thursday walks and the bread Wednesdays and the fire in the sitting room. The bones are what remained when the managed distance was replaced by the clearing." Don stopped walking. He stood in the middle of the colonial street with the Aztec stones in the foundations of the buildings around them and the lake bed beneath their feet and the October light falling on his face. "Yes," he said. "The bones are what remained when the managed distance was replaced. The bones were always there. The managed distance was the skin. The bones were the trust."

The two burst into laughter. "I'm sure the dog chased you because the dog thought you were a bone." Mia laughed. I glared at her and smacked her arm. "You need to eat more, Abby. Even the dog wants you." She laughs again. Can't she see that I felt offended by her words? This girl, really, her lips never ceased to mock me every single day of my life that we were together. "I'm not a bone. That dog is just crazy." I defended myself, pouting.

I try to move my hands only to fail feeling them bound in front of me with frayed rope that’s cut into my skin making it sting, my voice rises from deep with in my chest as I scream out for help. Panic spreads through out my veins causing me to thrash around in the tight space I find myself in, bringing my hand up to my mouth I bite at the rope slowly freeing myself of then then start to scratch at what ever it is that blocking me inside where ever it is I am. The sound of dog’s barking in the distance silence my movements making be hold my breath thinking that maybe it was my mind playing tricks on me. Again the sound of barking dogs reaches my ears only louder as if the barking was coming

"Bane is ze future! He is a guardian! He is... magnifique!" Barnaby didn't take it well. The Golden Retriever was currently lounging on a $15,000 velvet ottoman, dreaming of the day he’d finally taste my jugular. When Bane trotted into the living room, Barnaby froze. His ears went back. His tail stopped mid-wag. It was the canine version of a Western standoff. Bane, being a puppy with the confidence of a god, trotted right up to Barnaby and let out a high-pitched, squeaky bark. It was an insult in dog-speak. Barnaby lunged.