There were two men, so far that she’d counted. The one that shot her, Cliff, and the pathetic friend, Boone. She heard another person’s voice, a woman’s voice, but had yet to see her. Sawyer wrapped her reddish tail around her paws as she sat. Her muscle tense and ears erect. Her eyes focused on the door in front of her.
She lifted her muzzle and shook her head, shifting the tight collar around her neck. The leather band pressed against her throat, making it difficult to sit comfortably, and the metal chain prevented her from gnawing through it.
The concrete floored room was cool against her paws. The walls had metal loops with chains attached and in the far-right corner of the room was another canine hooked to the wall. The dog hadn’t moved since she arrived and it looked dead, b
