CC- Round One Prologue

Vendel could hear his stomach pangs echo into the desolate streets. He almost wanted to get up and search for food, but he knew leaving his resting spot would chill him to the bone. Nights were often unbearably cold and without Daloris, the setter would be chattering his teeth to nubs. Between the frigid air, his empty belly, and the turmoil of the past day, Vendel wasn't getting anywhere near enough sleep. His thoughts reeled, spun, thrashed, and collided into each other with a deafeningly silent crash. A long breath escaped his drooping jowls.

Lord, please calm my mind and allow me to rest. Give me some respite from the thoughts that haunt me. Help sleep come to me before this dreadful abomination begins. Protect me, and all others who call upon your name in need. Amen.

Relaxing his muscles and shutting his eyes, Vendel curled his body a little tighter. It was a little after the time his prayer reached Heaven that a commotion of barking exploded through the area.

"Come on! Get up now, you lazy curs! Beyra's callin' ya all to meeting! Come on, we're burning day-light!" A scarred and drooling Mastiff greeted the priest. "Rise and shine, bear-back."

"And a good morning to you as well." Vendel managed to yawn with all the sarcasm a tired tongue could muster. Slowly, the army of dogs appeared before the ferris wheel; eyes tearing in the bitter cold and bones popping back into socket. The massive female on one of the rides platforms spoke to the crowd. Mind wandering for want of sleep made the setter miss the formalities.

"Now, before round one begins you'll need to get your strength up. The famine means there isn't enough food for everyone to hunt individually, so…" Vendel caught his mispronounced name in the list. "All of you are on a hunting party. You're each to catch at least one item of prey and bring it back here by midmorning. Once everyone has returned, you'll share the catch. So get to it."

The priest dragged as many steps as he could out into the desolate city. Consciousness slowly returned to him and awakened his sleeping frame. The pack had split a while ago leaving Vendel on the border of asphalt and shrubbery. "A hunt, hm? What a strange notion. To feast before a mass killing. Then again, Christ did have the Last Supper before his death. Perhaps it isn't all that strange. What do you think, Daloris?" The bear on his back remained as it was. "Oh, Daloris! What ridiculous ideas you have! Beyra might be a misguided soul in need of the Lord, but she would never do something like that. Why, yes, I would happen to know that. You don't remember? It was just a few seasons ago! No? Daloris, sometimes I think you're growing senile early."

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"And with that, boys and girls. Round one has officially begun."

Chomp couldn't believe it. She was just as sly, dirty, and manipulative as he first thought; if not more! The young dog sat in horror of the cunning plot she explained to them. He would have to track another dog, steal his hard-earned catch, and in doing so, take the first meal the poor dog's had in days and his breeding rights.

"That miserable, slime ball, no-good, rotten piece of-"

"Chomp, pay attention!" The lean cat curled around his legs hissed. Sure enough, the female was making her way through the remaining canines. After a moment of mumbled speech, the recipient was gone; off to obey her cruel orders. Not him though. Not this time. He was going to show Beyra what happens when you threaten to harm his friends and sabotage a fellow citizen. Her aged eyes met his, but swiftly gazed over his shoulder.

"Ventus." She muttered and turned to leave.

"Hey! Come back here, I got some things to say to you!" Chomp barked but Beyra only swiveled her ears towards him. "There's no way I'm playing your little game, Beyra. No one in their right mind would. I'm leaving and there's nothing you can do about it. Good day." Turning to storm off gave him a face full of dog snarls. Beyra's cronies. Lytett knotted herself between Chomp's thick legs, hissing and spitting. Finally the old female faced him directly.

"There's no turning back, kid. It's what has to be done."

"Go let some other jokers have fun in their bloodbath, I don't want anything to do with this, you cheater." He spat the last word in her face. Beyra held her trademark scowl, unfaltering. But the slight raising of one eyebrow betrayed her thoughts.

"Alright, kiddo, here's the deal. I'll let you go. Scott-free. Won't even break your tail. But the cat is lunchmeat, kay?"

Chomp's face contorted in horror. His hackles raised, jowls pulled back, and shoulders sunk into an offensive stance. "Over my dead body."

"That can be arranged. Now, go get Ventus. He's the bear-dog, you can't miss him." The Bernard said as she ambled away.

"Hey! I already said I'm not doing this!"

"It's your friend, or you 'play the game'. And you chose the game. Now scram before I change my mind."

The young dog stood still for a moment, the two guards at his back. A soft pawing at his feet pulled his attention downward.

"You can do this, Chomp. I believe in you. You're big enough. Tough enough. Smart enough. It's not worth fighting it anymore." The feline's eyes reflected back into his own.

Hesitantly, the dog lowered himself to let his friend onto his back. With one last sharp glare to Beyra, Chomp was on the trail of the bear-dog.

"I hope you know what we're doing, Lytett..."