(Okay, now skip back for a bit… ^_~)
For a fraction of a second Jon was furious that they were ignoring him. Then reality snapped back into focus and he dove behind the nearest wooden crate. The Dogs and the What-ever-it-was were a snarling, baying, braying fury of teeth and hooves and horns. A bullet ricocheted off the box above him and Jon’s attention switched from the Dogs to the nervous looking teenager.
“Hey! Hey– stop it!” Jon started flinging random objects in the direction of his attacker. Thankfully the teenager’s aim was as good as Jon’s talent for flinging dead fish. “Why the hell are you shooting at me?!?”
“Make them shop!” The kid was screaming, buy Jon couldn’t tell if he was angry of terrified.
“The dogs?” Jon ducked another rain of splinters, “They don’t listen to me!” He searched frantically for more flingable fish…
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