Chapter 1 - The Threshold of Silence
Marcus gripped Carrie’s shoulder, his knuckles white. The massive frame of Raleigh blocked the doorway, a living shadow against the pale peeling paint of their home. The dog didn’t growl; he merely hummed a low, vibrating sound in his chest—a warning, not to Carrie, but to the world beyond their stoop.
"He won't come in," Carrie repeated, her sightless eyes tracking the shift in the air. "He knows this house doesn't belong to him. He knows he's a monster."
"Carrie, get away from that animal!" Marcus hissed, his voice cracking with the strain of being the only adult in a world that felt like it was closing in. "He's a weapon. We can’t keep a weapon in the house."
Carrie ignored him, kneeling in the dirt. She wasn't looking at the scars on Raleigh’s muzzle or the way his muscles bunched under his skin. She was listening to the rhythm of his heart, a frantic, broken beat that mirrored the terrified boy she had once been before the accident that took her sight. She raised the wooden whistle, blew a soft, airy trill, and then tapped the threshold of the door.
May you like
Raleigh hesitated. He looked back toward the street—the direction of the arena, of Sean, of the life of cages and combat. Then he looked at Carrie. With a whimper that sounded more like a sigh of relief, he stepped over the threshold, his giant paws landing softly on the linoleum. The moment he was inside, he collapsed, head resting on his front legs, eyes fixed entirely on Carrie.
"He's not a weapon, Marcus," she whispered, stroking the velvet-soft skin behind his ears. "He's just tired of being afraid."
