Sammy didn't even think as he yanked a gas mask off a fallen agent's face even while someone else shouted "Hey, there's a baby in there" and another voice screamed "Phoenix, get back here." He had never been shown how to fit a gas mask on, but he squeezed his head into it and hoped for the best as he leapt towards a shattered window on the second floor.
Pain shot through his leg as a glass fragment sliced it open, but he didn't let it slow him down. He limped a few steps while his leg healed, but it knitted shut by the time he made it to a hallway. Smoke started seeping into the gas mask. It burned, but the thought that it had to be even worse for the baby spurred him on. He couldn't track any scents with the damn thing on, and with his eyes watering, he could barely see. Hearing was the only reliable sense left. The walls were just crude two by four frames with a single layer of drywall covering the exterior sides. They did nothing to muffle the baby's alternating coughs and weakening mewling. No time to search for doors. He shoved his bulk through the drywall sheets and staggered over the resulting debris. In the dank room, he could just barely make out a tiny bundle on a pile of cushions lying in the far corner.
"It's okay little one, I'm here," he tried to say as he bent down and scooped up the baby, but with the improperly-fit gas mask both constricting his muzzle and muffling his voice, his words came out as echoey growls to his own ears. Good thing the baby was too young to understand. It couldn't have been more than a couple months old, at most. He pressed it to his chest, hoping his fur could filter out some of the smoke as he rushed back to the room he came in, took a running leap, and this time cleared the glass and landed softly on the ground below. Mud splattered as his feet hit the ground and he compressed himself into a crouch so the baby wouldn't be jarred by the landing.
Odysseus, Night Sky, and several agents converged on him. Still choking on the smoke trapped around his face and momentarily sapped of strength, he growled at the encroaching crowd, hugging the baby closer to himself. There was no safer place in the world for a child than in the arms of a werewolf. Whether their species were a fluke of evolution, or they had been cursed or made, no one really knew. But there was one thing almost every werewolf knew for sure: they would lay down their life to defend a child. Protection was encoded into their DNA, no matter how it had gotten there. But as someone freed his face of the gas mask and fresh air rushed into his nostrils, bringing with it some common sense, he remembered he was surrounded by allies, all just as eager to help the baby, and some better suited to its medical needs. He reluctantly relaxed his shoulders and surrendered the child to one of the field medics as Odysseus and another agent helped him up to his feet.
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Last Monday sucked. I was taking care of two of the most needful people at the retirement home I work at, plus I had extra rooms because we were shorthanded. And I pulled a leg muscle. But getting a sketch of Sammy that evening from Rick Griffin (of Housepets fame) more than made up for all that! It's been a long time since I colored anything, but of course I had to take a stab at this.
Pain shot through his leg as a glass fragment sliced it open, but he didn't let it slow him down. He limped a few steps while his leg healed, but it knitted shut by the time he made it to a hallway. Smoke started seeping into the gas mask. It burned, but the thought that it had to be even worse for the baby spurred him on. He couldn't track any scents with the damn thing on, and with his eyes watering, he could barely see. Hearing was the only reliable sense left. The walls were just crude two by four frames with a single layer of drywall covering the exterior sides. They did nothing to muffle the baby's alternating coughs and weakening mewling. No time to search for doors. He shoved his bulk through the drywall sheets and staggered over the resulting debris. In the dank room, he could just barely make out a tiny bundle on a pile of cushions lying in the far corner.
"It's okay little one, I'm here," he tried to say as he bent down and scooped up the baby, but with the improperly-fit gas mask both constricting his muzzle and muffling his voice, his words came out as echoey growls to his own ears. Good thing the baby was too young to understand. It couldn't have been more than a couple months old, at most. He pressed it to his chest, hoping his fur could filter out some of the smoke as he rushed back to the room he came in, took a running leap, and this time cleared the glass and landed softly on the ground below. Mud splattered as his feet hit the ground and he compressed himself into a crouch so the baby wouldn't be jarred by the landing.
Odysseus, Night Sky, and several agents converged on him. Still choking on the smoke trapped around his face and momentarily sapped of strength, he growled at the encroaching crowd, hugging the baby closer to himself. There was no safer place in the world for a child than in the arms of a werewolf. Whether their species were a fluke of evolution, or they had been cursed or made, no one really knew. But there was one thing almost every werewolf knew for sure: they would lay down their life to defend a child. Protection was encoded into their DNA, no matter how it had gotten there. But as someone freed his face of the gas mask and fresh air rushed into his nostrils, bringing with it some common sense, he remembered he was surrounded by allies, all just as eager to help the baby, and some better suited to its medical needs. He reluctantly relaxed his shoulders and surrendered the child to one of the field medics as Odysseus and another agent helped him up to his feet.
Read More Here
Last Monday sucked. I was taking care of two of the most needful people at the retirement home I work at, plus I had extra rooms because we were shorthanded. And I pulled a leg muscle. But getting a sketch of Sammy that evening from Rick Griffin (of Housepets fame) more than made up for all that! It's been a long time since I colored anything, but of course I had to take a stab at this.
Category All / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Gender Any
Size 893 x 1155px
I recognised the style immediately. Have to say, I really like Rick's take on Sammy!
Hush now little one, Your werewolf Sammy is there to protect you.
Love the story. Nice to see wholespme things like this every now and again.
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