Chapter Text
Pack List
Alpha
Alpha: sleek black-and-brown female with a white fang-shaped mark below her ear (also known as Blade)
Beta
Beta: slim black-and-silver female (also known as Sai)
Hunters
Mace: huge black-and-tan male
Dagger: brown-and-tan male with stubby face
Pistol: black-and-tan female
Brute: black-and-tan male
Ripper: black-and-tan female
Hatchet: red-and-tan male (father of Swipe, Scrap, and Prowl)
Rifle: black-and-brown male
Snapper: tan-and-cream male
Guard Dogs
Revolver: black-and-tan male
Maiden: silver-and-tan female (mother of Swipe, Scrap, and Prowl)
Axe: large black-and-brown male
Scythe: large black-and-tan female
Chain: silver-and-tan male
Bludgeon: massive black-and-tan male
Musket: black-and-brown male
Cannon: brown-and-tan female
Lance: black-and-tan male
Bullet: small black-and-brown male
Pups
Swipe: red-and-tan male
Scrap: tan-and-cream male
Prowl: brown-and-tan female
Omega
Omega: silver-and-tan male (also known as Pierce)
Chapter 1
“What are you, a Soft-Dog?”
Swipe rolled over onto the ground of his den, floppy ears twitching at the sound of his father’s voice. Hatchet had always been firm - his mother, Maiden, too - but Swipe couldn’t recall him ever having sounded so impatient with him.
Swipe looked up at his father’s face, Hatchet’s expression pulled into a grimace as he looked Swipe’s way. They were just playfighting! Why did his Father-Dog care so much if he bit his littermates or not?
His sister, Prowl, took his momentary distraction as an opportunity to strike, leaping Swipe’s way and pinning him down to the ground. The red-and-tan pup yelped, trying to kick his sister off with his hind legs and wriggling beneath her, but Prowl wasn’t budging.
The tiny Fierce-Pup snarled with a wrinkled muzzle-- the sound not unlike a loudcage, if higher-pitched-- ducking her head to bite at Swipe’s face as he whined and writhed underneath her.
“Stop, ow-- ow! Let me go!” Swipe cried, thrashing about under his litter-sister as she pulled and nipped at his whiskers. Hatchet huffed above them both, the sound loud and impassive. It was enough for Prowl to hesitate in what she was doing, allowing Swipe a means to escape.
He ducked between her distracted paws and stumbled towards his Father-Dog, glaring at Prowl and licking at his whiskers in dismay-- they were sore, now. He wouldn’t be surprised if one had been pulled.
Earning a yelp from Swipe, his Father-Dog kicked him back with a paw, sending the young pup tumbling over himself.
“Don’t be a coward,” Hatchet hissed. Swipe looked up at him with big eyes, then back at his littermates-- his brother, Scrap, had begun to attack Prowl in what soon became a flurry of claws and teeth, biting and scratching. “Go and play with your siblings. You’re much too old to hide.”
“They bite me,” Swipe complained, his whiskers twitching. Prowl hadn’t drawn blood-- not this time, at least-- but his muzzle still throbbed in pain. They hadn't used to bite him, not until Maiden had encouraged them to play rougher for their Alpha’s approval. Their Alpha, huh? Swipe had never met her, but he was sure she was a very miserable, mean old dog, to enjoy watching pups get hurt playfighting.
Swipe was the only one who didn’t want to listen to that new, more violent encouragement, even if he longed for the praise his siblings got as a result.
Stubborn, his Mother-Dog had called him. Swipe had always wanted a reward without the effort. For a while she seemed to think it was a good thing, until Swipe had started being stubborn when it came to what she wanted him to do, as well.
“You’ll get bit much harder when you’re older,” his Father-Dog told him, lazily batting a paw Swipe’s way. “It’s not the make of one of Blade’s to tremble at pup games. She’s making her rounds soon.”
“Yeah, Swipe!” Scrap growled, a bit muffled from how he was tugging on Prowl’s ear from where he had her pinned. “C’mon and play!”
Prowl perked up at their Father-Dog’s words, however, shaking Scrap off her ear to poke her head up. “Wait, rounds? Does that mean we get to see-- arugh, ow!”
“Not if I have any say in it. All you,” Hatchet’s ears pinned back as he sneered down at his pups, “need to do is listen. When I say you fight, you fight.”
Blade. His Alpha. Swipe couldn’t help a sinking weight of worry in his gut, despite his earlier words-- however mean and miserable and old she might be, he had still heard stories of her brutality from his Mother-Dog and Father-Dog alike, and he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of it.
He’d heard of her rounds, of course, a type of patrolwork she did for her own packmates, but Swipe had always been tucked away behind his mother for them. He wasn’t yet two moons old, he’d never had to prove something to her. He hadn’t even a clue what she looked like.
The reality of her arrival had Swipe hunching in on himself as his Father-Dog pushed him forward with a paw once again, harsh enough to have Swipe stumbling onto his chest before scrambling back up to his paws.
“Go on. Go.”
Swipe’s whiskers twitched nervously, biting his tongue hard enough he tasted metal but scampered off anyway to the flurry of limbs that his siblings had become, looking down at them before being inevitably dragged into the mess by Prowl and Scrap.
Maybe his heart just wasn’t in it, but it was difficult for Swipe to pretend like he cared about the biting and clawing of his littermates. He wanted to be a hunter, anyway, not a guard dog! He wouldn’t ever need to fight like this. But Hatchet’s words echoed in his ears, and the fear of Blade’s arrival reminded him there wasn’t any other choice.
It hurt when his litter-siblings bit him, and they bit him a lot. His whiskers and ears and muzzle were nipped and tugged at, and even when he got fed up and tried to bite back, his siblings would just pin him down to the hardwood floor with fat paws and bite him again.
Even as something like adrenaline pumped through his small body, he still couldn’t shake off the two of them, which had turned to team up against him instead of fighting with each other. He was the smallest of his litter, save for his other litter-sister, and compared to Prowl’s large body and Scrap’s swift nature, what little fight he carried paled.
It was an onslaught of paws slamming down on his face as he squirmed, breaking free at times just to make it only a step away from Prowl and Scrap before they pinned him down again. The sound of high-pitched snarling and squeaky growls filled his ears, to the point he hadn’t even noticed the arrival of anyone new until he looked up to see the shadow of another dog, its source obscured by boxes stacked high by the longpaws. It couldn’t be Blade, Hatchet would have surely alerted them if so, or maybe made some big show at his Alpha’s arrival.
Swipe growled at Prowl and bat at her face, giving him room to shuffle forward and crane his neck just so he could see the edge of the hidden dog’s paws, and even if it was difficult to see, he could tell it was--
Maiden! His Mother-Dog! Swipe tore himself from the flurry to pad towards her, tail high and wagging despite the nicks on his face and chest from his litter-siblings’ roughhousing.
Prowl and Scrap didn’t take note of his departure, instead turning on each other once again with squeals of delight, and it seemed neither did his parents. The closer Swipe got to them both, the easier it was to hear their muffled discussion the two were having.
“They’re shaping up to be good fighters,” His Father-Dog was surely speaking to her, though in the back of his mind Swipe was curious as to why he’d sounded so nervous. “You could take the girl-pup, if you want.”
Girl-pup? Was this something to do with Prowl? He wasn’t fond of the way Hatchet spoke about her, it felt odd and some other word Swipe didn’t know, yet, but curiosity overpowered any discomfort as he started to crouch down and creep closer.
Hatchet’s voice was tight and strained when he spoke up again, and Swipe huffed-- he’d been too lost in thought to hear Maiden’s response. “Believe me, I know they’re falling behind. I’m doing my best to encourage them.”
Swipe’s ears perked, expression twisting into a frown. Falling behind? He still tasted blood from when he’d licked his muzzle, there was nothing behind about that! He felt briefly defensive over his siblings-- as much as they roughhoused, they were still his littermates. They were the strongest fighters Swipe had ever met, and they’d surely be good guard dogs one day.
In his internal indignance, Swipe had become so wrapped up in his thoughts that the world around him, for just a moment, melted away, and right before he was about to turn the corner and look his Mother-Dog--
He found his paw catching on the corner of one of the blankets, poking out of a box and slippery on the wooden floor. With a yelp, the small pup slipped and fell forward, his jaw hitting the floor roughly and entire body tumbling behind him.
And when Swipe looked up, licking his teeth to make sure they were all still there, he realized with a deep sense of horror that he was staring right at her-- not at Maiden.
At Blade.
An infinite amount of questions race through Swipe’s head all at once.
How had she gotten there already? How hadn’t Swipe noticed, how hadn’t he heard her voice? Was he in trouble, was she dangerous? Swipe yelped in terror and scrambled to crouch down in front of Blade, a show of submission as his nubbed tail tried to tuck itself between his legs, to no real avail.
How unobservant could he get?! Her paws were tipped with the same shade of tan as Maiden’s, but her legs were much darker, a black as inky as night and not the silver of metal his Mother-Dog’s fur carried.
Swipe glanced at his Father-Dog, who was sitting across from Blade with a look of mortification on his face that had Swipe sinking closer to the wooden ground below his paws.
“This one doesn’t seem like much,” Blade commented blandly, giving Swipe a once-over with glossy, distant eyes. She looked bored. Disappointed, maybe? It made him squirm, his Alpha looking down at him in disinterest.
Hatchet pulled a face. “He’s getting there. He’s got a good nose.”
“But a frail spirit,” Blade hummed and looked up from Swipe, finally, and turned to Hatchet with the same bland look she’d leveled the pup with. “Remind me again why I fought for you to keep these things?”
“..I can train them better than the longpaws,” Hatchet’s voice was too firm, too monotone, like he was forcing it that way. “Quicker, too. I spend more time with them. They’ll be easier for you that way.”
“I’m sure.” Blade spoke so blandly that Swipe wasn’t sure if she was being sarcastic or not. Then, she turned back to Swipe, the young pup growling deep in his throat even if he should know better than to growl at his Alpha.
When Blade moved a lifted paw forward, Swipe surprised even himself by leaping forward and nipping at the air near it. Slowly, the paw withdrew. Swipe’s growl melted away into a loud whine immediately, regret coursing through his veins almost painfully as he stared up at the much larger, much scarier dog in front of him.
“..You do have fight in you, after all.” Blade’s eyes narrowed, rubies narrowing into horizontal slits against the black of her fur. She said it like it wasn’t a good thing, not when Swipe was the one she was talking to. “Even if you’re disobedient with it.”
Swipe’s pelt burned in shame. He felt like he would never live this down.
Blade hummed noncommittally, standing to her paws as she continued to stare down at Swipe, her gaze piercing right into his soul and tugging at his fear. “Listen to your father, pup. He knows better than a Soft-Dog like you ever will.”
With that, the Alpha turned and left, leveling Swipe’s father with a look on her way out that the small pup couldn’t figure the meaning of, not from his place far beneath them both. When Swipe’s ears pricked to try and hear anything above the silence, he found even his siblings had gone quiet at the confrontation. Had they been watching?
Moments pass and nobody says anything. It was an uncomfortable kind of silence, the type of pause that feels thick and makes you twitchy with nerves. Swipe was sure every dog in the garden was holding their breath and waiting for something to happen.
With as much anxiety as a pup his size can hold, Swipe approached his father with his stubby tail tucked low, ashamed. “...Are- are you mad at me?”
Worryingly still seconds passed before Hatchet turned to Swipe with a curled lip.
“Get out of my sight.”