What would you do if you were given the chance to fulfill any of your desires?

Out in the wilderness, amidst the void darkness that inhabits the forestry, in the distance, an outflow of fireflies came into view. What these nocturnal creatures sought isn't what they seem, nor are their intentions the same.

Rather, it was a march of people in the woods, up and about to search for the once-in-a-lifetime chance to get ahold of the Obelus flower.

Many believed it was a mere myth or folktale that was passed from generations to another. The reason for its popularity is that it is said that it is able to make things come true..

..Riches — it can make it appear by your doorstep; the attention — bit by bit, people would flock over you; power — slowly you see yourself climb to the top; and most of all, health — the desire to dissipate all illness or revive once was lost to shine once more.

There's a reason why the flower holds less and so much attention simultaneously. The flower blooms in the most obscured places in the country, and only one germinates every twenty years in the most frigid seasons — December.

People called it ludicrous as it seemed it was a cheese trap for the greediest of the living things, but they could only conclude this so, for that they've never seen it themselves.

A few have claimed of its existence and got ahold of it, though that never happened again when it soon planted chaos in the quiet town. So, everyone who did manage to acquire the said floran product, they are to take that secret to the grave and brew themselves tea with its petals - fitting for only one or carelessly make it known that they have it and bring forth discordant or cessations.

Perhaps there was a reason why the world couldn't have it all.

Centuries ago, when the flower was first discovered, people rejoiced that there is now a possible elixir for every life-threatening situation. They shared high-fives, danced, and sang out-of-tune melodies.. It was a winsome entropy.

But as everyone soon discovered that the whole flower petal can only accommodate one drinker..

..Torches, pitchforks, and blasphemies echoed through the night and eventually broke through dawn. They all shouted at the same time, though reasons varied — some yelled it was for their withering gamble with fate, some preached to think of the children, and some hollered that they do not deserve this dirt-scavenging life.

Everyone had a voice. Yet they all yelled different things. But one thing they had in common was they all wanted it for themselves.

The smell of arson and rusting metal soon paved through the months and painted the snow in roses until there was nothing left of them..

..Dried tears, mouth agape, sooty clothes that are torn apart, and arms that lay helplessly on the ground. This taught everyone a lesson, and that is to keep that flower all for yourself.

But I'm here to prove that there's somehow a way to manifest that in fact, it is true —  desires can be obtained — but not what you perhaps have in mind.

Mists of white had fogged his premises as his chest rose and collapsed rapidly with very intent looks that scoured the area. He clenched his aching heart from beating too loudly by digging his own claws close to flesh, to make sure that this peril-suffused melody wouldn't be heard by the grumbling men that stood amidst the area — all holding pitchforks and torches and fury in their hearts.

They were merely numbered and were definitely below ten, though what made them appear superior and stronger is their burning passion to protect their fugitive secret from everyone else.

"Dammit. Those wild animals are bound to steal that damned flower from us again!" Whisper-yelled the leader of the coterie, then what followed next were profanities carelessly whispered through the growing December breeze.

All of them were tired; tired of everything actually, and they want nothing but let miracle take the wheel and steer them away from their eventuals that would be distasteful.

"We just have to wake up earlier tomorrow then, so we can beat those animals from taking it." Slowly but surely, they retrieved their steps and went back to their hometown with concave smiles and sighs.

The Chocolate Labrador that remained in shade couldn't help but laugh to no one, but neither to himself too, and thought that those pesky humans had assumed that they will be triumphant in their tomorrow's fore-dawn expedition.

What the humans hadn't realized was that he switched their original map with a decoy he made himself over the years. It was risky, and most definitely, an immoral operation as he used someone's hardwork for his own benefit. There was no way. He could have decided to map out where the Obelus flower was before its blooming, but he had..

..Other important things to take care of, and that's why he eventually settled onto this plan.

Ascertaining the area one last time, when he knew the coast was clear and void of people wanting to take his head's podium, he proceeded to run forth an esoteric area with the successfully acquired map that's safely tucked in his bag, not hesitating to look back at what's left.

Hurrying back homebound was necessary, as tomorrow, he'll need to advance himself in obtaining the said floran product before anyone else could. Of course, if he doesn't get a paw of it, who knows what his future would look like?

And that future heavily depended on his little sister, laying frigidly on the ground with barely even a tattered cloth at this point being wrapped around her already delicate body.

It took them months to realize at what state she was currently in, and he must say so himself, she was painfully good at hiding the pain. That feeble flu became a pulsating series of symptoms over the course of a few moons — what followed next was a runny nose, then an odd discharge of pus by the eyes, then slowly and evidently, she had become more sluggish and unable to perform everyday tasks.

This posed threat to her health and his life. He knew nothing of what disease she had contracted, but he took extra precautions to ensure his safety so that he'll still be able to be the breadwinner for the two of them.

As the clouds parted and cluttered together, their days shone no brighter than of a typical day in September. She grew more ill, and he grew more desperate for a miracle.

He didn't know when or how, but somehow, the tale of the Obelus flower had reached his canals and piqued his interest while he was in town, scavenging for food — picking up its whereabouts and everything in between.

Within that time, he was hesitating whether he should take his blood and sweat to forage for something not everyone is certain to be true. But his sister's condition grew ruthless and impatient as well, to which fueled his desperation. In the end, he plotted to find the flower for himself, even though he wasn't a hundred percent sure that he'd even obtain it. Still, it was a chance he'd take.

"..Zuma?" There was a faint calling from the ground. Surprised to see that she was awake, the Chocolate Lab that seemed to be named Zuma, drew closer to her with a profound smile.

Lifting his right paw, he threaded his paws over to her head, giving her physical reassurance as she cracked a tiny smile for what it seemed years.

"Where were you? You got home very late.." she slowly muttered, attempting to shift positions, though her frail physique refrained her from doing such a thing without feeling as if her energy is seeping out of her like sand.

"Shh, your bro just ran some errands. At least I'm here now, right?" But that reassuring notion was the one that made her smile evaporate into a thin grim line - her eyes filled with desolation.

Powerlessly trying to discard his paw from her forehead, the cave was soon enveloped in a depressing overtone, leaving them both speechless and motionless.

"It's just.. I'm scared. Not death itself, but the state of being lonely as it happens.. What if—"

Zuma immediately hushed her by pressing his paw on her lips. His chest constricts at the thought of the eventual fate her sister would receive. Where one day, no longer would she greet him with a beam on her lips and eyes, or would he be able to share a meal with her. What something would ensue soon was rather saddening, and he needn't a reminder for that.

"Can't you think at least a little positive? What if these thoughts are nothing but apprehensions because we don't know what'll happen in the future? What if there was an actual way? So at least.. Do so for a while. It's Christmas tomorrow and I've got a gift for you, and I don't want you receiving your gift all sullen."

There was little to no hint of humor within that sentence of his, but she couldn't help but rasp a laugh.

"Alright, I will.. Just to save you from monologuing all of a sudden" Zuma wasn't sure whether he should be offended by this, but he brushed this off and rendered this differently into something positive — at least she's speaking much more than the past few months.

Before he knew it, the dawn breeze had prompted him that no longer could he wait nor stagger in his steps; in a few hours, the first few rays of light shall touch upon the lands and brighten the skies, signaling forth adventurers to seek for the Obelus Flower - and no longer will he be alone.

So with the wits he had left and a few items that'll gear him hopefully to success in this traverse, he set off without anything behind.

Every step he took made him envelope more into the city of trees; the edge between day and night sat delicately within time's palms, but the skies appear to only grow darker as he ventured more into the woodlands — and it was at that moment he was left alone with his thoughts.

Pulling out the map, he skimmed the inked paper again to sate the growing doubt in his mind "Alright, if I read this right, I should take a right turn when I see a large boulder."

Looking up and down to the map repetitively, he reviewed the etching whether he had gone past the physical indicators. In the end, it seemed he was on the right track and just needed more patience to eventually find one of the dozen cues he'll find on his way.

Feeling satisfied, he tucked it back into his bag and continued. Oddly enough, there was this weird tingling feeling that's gnawing on his neck. Quickly flicking his left forepaw onto his nape, he checked it thrice whether if it was some pesky bug — there wasn't.

It was beginning to grow perceptible, and he couldn't completely turn a blind eye to it for some reason; it was as if it was.. Desperately making it known that it's attempting to tear that flesh of his.

whish..

Sharply turning his head back, there was nothing there but the footsteps he left that are slowly being buried in the mound.

As his breathing hitched, he decided to fasten his pace — every crunch leaving a trace of fear yet determination in his way.

"Calm down Zuma. You're just getting paranoid!" He told himself repeatedly in worthless reassurance and false persuasion amidst eyes that said otherwise and erratic heartbeats.

The howling of the wind made no things less terrifying for a lone adventurer like him; he had nothing to light his way but his bare vision and his burning heart — but that could only go so far.

Just as he was about to settle his raging thoughts, the snow-powdered bush rustled aggressively. Swiftly locking his eyes onto the object, wittily had he created a made-shift weapon out of the rocks he found nestled onto the ground, although he might be a warrior without armour from whomever the attacker is, he knew the most he could do is all bark no bite.

Bracing the unknown, he conditioned himself to launch the paw-held weapons into the air briefly and hopefully hit the predator in a passive-aggressive threat and scurry away instead.

Closing an eye and the other one taking a peek, he noticed that the figure pounced out of the bush. Zuma took it as his cue to attack and fling the irregular object onto whomever it was.

"Ouch!" Yelped someone in obvious pain. He wasn't so certain whether he should be proud that his aim was in a perfect trajectory despite being unsure where it was headed, or feel ashamed that he had mistakenly attacked a passerby.

Moving towards the victim to take a closer look, he noticed that it was a fellow canine. She had tan fur accompanied by a darker and lighter shade of it, her fur was more untamed and curly, and her body was unreasonably covered in bruises and cuts.

He wondered if she was any threat or a potential thug, as her frail body indicates otherwise, and seemed that she's just as incapable as he is to fight anyone.

A puff of white had escaped his lungs as he pushed her onto her side to assess if she was awake. Yes, she was.

Her magenta eyes soon found their way to his olive irises, and right away, felt as flustered as he is, sprung up on her feet and backed away from him. She raised her paw with those same rocks she was hit with and was prepping her attack on him.

"H-hey! No! Don't worry, I'm not a threat!" Quickly he said to diffuse this misunderstanding between them. The way he maneuvered his body perhaps played an impact on why he is struggling to convince her otherwise — it shook violently as if an unhinged being dared to come near her, and his fearful eyes contracted in size and relayed a message that might help her conclude that in fact, yes, he is insane.

The rock rapidly made a rift between atmospheres as it bulleted right forth Zuma; luckily enough, he was able to dodge the attack and let the object get lost within the snow.

Zuma concluded that she will be a threat to his odyssey, so quickly picking up the weapon yet again, with his two fore-limbs tightening the grip on the stones before he could do anything yet again, she began to shake in fear as she covered her face in an attempt to shield herself wholly.

Oddly, he couldn't somehow bring himself to retaliate against her infliction to him. He couldn't.. Bear to witness the scene playing in front of him and see himself turn into the monster that he detests most.

For a moment, he weighed the decisions he would opt to. Would he regret it later or would this eventually benefit him in the long run?

Either way, he ended up backing down his defenses and lent her a paw of his own. It seemed she noticed that the place stood motionless and took a peek behind the curtains, to only see that his right paw was hovering between them — waiting patiently for her to take his hand.

Her eyes traveled to his eyes and found no signs of aggression or any foreseeable ill intentions like the appearance he had earlier. There was clear hesitation written around her lips and brows, but she decided that perhaps there truly was a misunderstanding between them.

Taking his paw, by and by, she's now standing on all fours, dusting the dust of snow that had managed to latch itself to her fur.

"I'm Zuma, and you're—?"

"Skye. Nice to meet you,"

Letting go, the Labrador found comfort with his nape and uttered a quick apology for hurting her out of defense.

"It's.. Alright. I guess partly was my fault too for coming out that way."

"Um.. Are you hurt? You have a lot of—"

When he was just about to take a closer inspection of her tattered fur, she flinched away from him. Right away, he knew he messed up and had accidentally trotted over her boundaries. Probably twice already?

"Sorry. Um.. Yes! No worries, I'm fine. Most of these had dried up already.. Anyway, where are you headed to?"

He looked ahead of the path that had yet to be painted orange, and what lies beyond those frosty horizons is a flower that awaits for its plucker. Something within him though couldn't somehow leave her alone; for better or worse of concomitant. With a big mist of white clouds escaping his humid insides, he offered that she follow him instead as he's off to pick something for his sister — not specifying what that it may be.

Her bright berry-like irises swiftly landed on his bizarre offer. It seemed that whether she takes it or not, nothing is stopping him from going forth, nor was he so far from her reach already. Eventually, she traced his pawprints with some of her defenses raised.

༻───── ∘°❉°∘ ─────༺

The jaunt to a place where the Cockapoo knew nothing of was rather enveloped in quills and barely thrills. Zuma had actually assumed that he would for sure come across something problematic; but it seemed that situation is far from reality, as from the feel of it, the skies hadn't made up its mind yet.

Oddly enough, he somehow could feel constant glances from someone beside him. He minded none of it for most of the time, but then grew the thought of needing to address this in the end as it eventually felt unsettling.

"Is everything okay?" In due course, he looked to her direction. Appearing sheepish, she asked where were they headed to and what he was doing amidst the forest.

"Ah that," he realized. Fumbling for a plausible excuse, the result of his brainstorm was that he needed to pick up some Winter Pansies for his sister, and her favorite kind were the whites; so actually obtaining one would be difficult. Thus, he asked the Cockapoo her own question.

Her mouth opened agape, and her eyes lingered on the nothingness as she searched for the right words to describe her intentions. But it seemed she was struggling as he tongue twisted and turned on its own and came out like garbled mutters.

Zuma saw this and mentally took note of her responses and body language.

"..I needed some time and space to clear my mind, then we bumped into each other!" He simply nodded at her response, not wanting to pry any further as he kept reminding himself that they were not that close to be talking about personal endeavors.

Quietly proceeding on their uneventful walk, they heard another rustle by the bush. There was a low growl and clear hostility masked behind the fauna. He took hold of a sphere of snow and pulled the Cockapoo behind him to ready their attacks.

Their hearts synchronized into protean breaths, and the December temperature no longer came into one's senses as their bodily heat went off track and climb double digits. Everything felt placed on an awful cliffhanger, and both were enticed to get it over with by slipping away — but Zuma can't possibly lead the threat to the flower.

RAHH

His back immensely came in contact with the frigid forest floor, making him violently gasp for air that's been debarred from his chest. As he was blind-sided, he had no time to react to the volatile creature, and his only attack was rebuffed by means of pinning his dominant limbs to the ground — disarming him from what appeared to be an improvisatorial weapon.

In the gist of all that, the impact caused her to stumble aback and get one of her legs to be crushed by the Chocolate Lab's weight. Knowing that they'll be dead meat if she doesn't take action now, she began to squirm out of the situation.

With little luck by her side, she was able to break free and scamper for anything that'll help Zuma take reprisals for their survival. Remembering his earlier plan, she pawed a ball of snow and prepared her launch. It was much harder than it looks as it required her to stand on her hind legs, which is an unusual way of standing up for someone like them.

Eyeing her acquired target, she threw the sphere and flew right forth the predator. To her triumph, it indeed landed on him. The downside though was that it caught his attention in a way that would shift the danger from Zuma to her.

As the predator's pupils seethed with absolute rage, as it drew closer to her, the realization of what it is..

..She knew she messed up and attempted to run away as it only drew closer to her.

Zuma, finally free from the attacker's grasp, hurriedly searched for sharp and irregularly shaped pebbles that he'd throw to scathe the opposer's flesh, and hopefully buy them some time to flee as it momentarily slows down to tend its injuries.

"Hey!" The first few of the pebbles touched his fur, slashing open the first-degree cut. Though it merely felt like a tap, it was painful to leave unnoticed. As it detected who was stronger between the two, it knew who should be taken out first.

But what it hadn't thought ahead of, was this gave him a clear window to target his face. He would've opted for the paws, but it was in constant motion and his recovery would be uncharted. It might be inhumane, but it was a surefire that it would at least inflict some discomfort to it and mud his attempt in landing a claw on them.

Just as expected, one or two of the many pebbles that were blasted to its face landed and did their job. Quickly running to the Cockapoo, he found that some of her wounds had opened and began to paint the snow crimson red.

From the corner of his vision, though the attacker was still stumbling from the smarting, he knew that its pain tolerance was high and could recover any moment now. So wittily maneuvering her body to be on top of him, he dashed out of the scene with the injured Cockapoo on his back. Not a single time did he bat an eye of what he left. He knew that if he did, his tracks might crisscross into his demise.

༻───── ∘°❉°∘ ─────༺

Wincing from the pain as her wounds were being concealed for her comfort, the Lab began to question how in the world he was involved into this mess. As far as his knowledge spans, this was a path less traveled by all creatures known to mankind, due to it merely leading into nothing but dangerous obstacles.

But suddenly, realization dawned upon him as he hypothesized that perhaps the reason why the German Shepherd was acting so abrasive, was due to the fact that he sees the two as a threat to his attempt to get ahold of the flower.

With widened eyes, he immediately wrapped up the nursing process and ushered her to stand up.

Skye wasn't so pleased with all the hurrying as she questioned why it was so important for him to find a flower that he could easily replace with something else. These words rendered right into his mind as he swiftly looked at her with slight irk.

"Look. We can always part ways at any time. But my sister needs this flower. Her days are numbered and.. If the inevitable happens, I at least want her to have the best Christmas." He was now walking forward like with their first encounter, though this time with no intent of hoping she'd join him like the first time.

Soon enough, she was quietly following the footsteps he'd buried in the snow. Zuma saw her catching up from the corner of her eyes and questioned what happened to her Plan A.

"Well.. I just felt bad for abandoning you. You could've left me when that German Shepherd pinned me down and searched on your own, but.. You saved me." As soon as her body had paralleled itself with him, he saw her wistful look cloaked behind her wavy tan-hued ears.

He let out a peal of half-suppressed laughter at that "I have my values. I refuse to take advantage of someone else's weakness and leverage as my own for my sole benefit. What about you?"

It was the Cockapoo's turn to grin sheepishly "I'm not really sure. What I do know is that I have to perform things perfectly."

An eruption of laughter was heard from the canine beside her as she simply looked at him dumbfoundedly; not entirely sure whether to follow the flow or protest what was hilarious with it. In the latter though, she opted for the selection that hadn't even crossed her mind — silence.

"I'm sorry," Zuma stuttered in between breaths, attempting to recollect what he had temporarily lost "That was rude of me, sorry. It's just.. I do the same as well. I remember my sister complaining because I keep nagging her to do stuff, and We should hurry up Zara! as what I would usually say."

"And here I am worried you're going to mock me for being one," she then elbowed him jocosely, to which he rolled his eyes in return with a smile on his lips.

"Then I'd be a hypocrite for poking fun at you," he tells her, to which they continued this into filling the quiet forestry into giggles.

For all that though, Zuma felt oddly good to be laughing, something he hadn't genuinely done for quite some time now.. That he suddenly remembered the very reason why he was traveling to somewhere he wasn't even certain that exists.

Slowly, he stifled that sound back into his throat and regretted that he was in joyous fits of laughter, his chest rising up and down like never been before like how it should always have been, while his sister remained in bed..

..Cold, sickly, and alone with her intrusive thoughts plaguing her mind.

This surprised the Cockapoo herself as he suddenly became mute with sullen and hollow eyes treading the path that they were taking. She wondered time and time again if she had said anything in return to bother him once more — not aware that she's far from the cause of his despondency.

For his thoughts were farther from where they stood, he had not noticed what was ahead for them. From the top of her lungs, Skye yelled his name, grasping his paws as he hung dangerously within the cliff. The only thing keeping him hanging safely from his demise was the Cockapoo herself, whose paws dug deeper into the frigid ground.

"Hold on," she whispered helplessly, his whole body fatiguing and numbing her right arm whole. She was trying to pull the bigger canine than her to safety, but because gosh forbid effortless rebounds with gravity, they were simply being pulled more to danger.

As Zuma tried to instruct her on what to do, they both fell, her body slowly slipping off the ledge, bringing her down along with him. His first instinct was to pull her into a hug so that they could form a capsule-like shape of dogs so that he could easily maneuver both of them out of danger.

So he did just as that and embraced her with his fore-limbs, whilst the two remaining limbs were used to push them away from the spikes that hither forth them.

Skye was screaming at the top of her lungs as they rapidly descended the incredulously dangerous steep slope. Her life was practically flashing before her eyes; tears were flowing out of her system as her weeps had conflated with her terror, she felt so light-headed that she could ascend right there and then. Soon after, all she saw was pitch black.

That's it then. That's how she exits this planet. Tag along with someone she barely knew, laugh about something so ridiculous, get caught up in two dilemmas — barely surviving the first, and the second being the one to send them off — and leave everyone without properly saying goodbye.

Great. She wondered, herself, if she'd soon see a flock of cotton or feel the unbearable heat cripple her skin open.

"Are you okay?" Asked someone. To her surprise, it wasn't someone from the underneath or the angels, not at least someone who actually resembles them. But it was Zuma, who was gingerly powdered in snow.

In disbelief, her eyes widened at the fact that they were alive — almost crying in the process; but she remembered the earlier events and immediately pleaded for his forgiveness.

While shaking off the snow, Zuma swayed his head sideways "It's all right. It wasn't your fault. Actually.. It was someone else—"

"—I didn't get a clear picture of them, but they had grey fur and brown eyes that looked like they were on to us."

"What does that mean?" There was worry within her voice from that query, and whatever she is feeling is the exact thing that was occurring to him now. He didn't realize that there would be competition among other canines too in obtaining the flower. There barely was any proof to support his theory, there were too many "coincidences" to label it as happenstance.

They're definitely after the flower too. He thought.

"I'm not sure," he began with a lie, despite knowing full well what lies behind the look the unidentified figure gave them "But we better move fast. They're surely after us." And with that said, their paws shifted immediately and propelled themselves forth.

Following the map that Zuma has with him, he traced the broken lines to place them back on track, thought safely this time — taking another route that is closely situated to the original path.

Squinting his eyes, though they only got off track bit a tad bit, it felt like everything became more complicated and farther than it usually was, as if every step they took was another three steps back. Perhaps it was because of the new terrain they had to take? Or maybe it was the underlying feeling of doubt. Whatever it was, it grew tedious and planted panic within him.

He had no idea if somebody had already arrived at the said place of the Obelus Flower, and the thought of it being stolen from him was enough to stress him and buffer his progress.

"..Are you okay?" The Cockapoo asks as they weave through the bush of leaves that hung over their heads, roughly brushing themselves onto their heads. Zuma merely hummed a reply that he was nothing more or less than okay. He was good at hiding it, if only he wouldn't stagger on his tracks so often, he would successfully deceive her.

Though she was smart enough to not dabble in it that much. She knew he didn't need the extra pressure when he's mentally plotting their escape and safety from their predators.

Who knows if those two were the only ones after them? If unfortunate, more may come after them.

"Okay.. We're almost there—" he tells her while his eyes re-scanning the map to examine whether they've arrived at the correct checkpoint.

Raising his head to meet the obstacle ahead of them, they were greeted with a rickety bridge — barely hanging from its wooden poles with its flimsy ropes; and slippery and hole-covered planks that hook dangerously atop the same shoddy fibrous cord.

Skye could gulp away her fear, for the lump to only get lodged back to its original place. What appears at the fore was a dangerous wish that would take chances and faith — but more so on chances.

She braved a look to meet his gaze and it seemed he was heavily contemplating on it too. An audible sigh escaped him as he turned to look at her "Looks like we've got to cross."

"No way.." breathlessly had she trailed off of her statement, looking everywhere with panic-stricken gazes "There must be another way!"

But to no avail, the chasm showed itself that it could stretch far and wide — crossing the horizon line — and asserted more of its power by appearing gigantic and spanning its height to probably around three thousand feet deep.

Goodness. There really is no way around it, huh?

"You can stay here if you want—"

"Nope. Not happening. I'll come with you."

Shrugging, he took initiative and placed his paw onto the plank. It felt plausibly sturdy at first, though a little icy. But as he progressed every wooden tile, the platform gradually became more evasive, that he had to periodically have one of his fore-limbs grasp the feeble rope.

The Cockapoo was following behind him with caution as well, her eyes justifiably scanning every corner of her environment with unsteady limbs. The more they progressed further into the eye of the crevasse, the more things got difficult and more dangerous.

With their overall weight burdening the middle of the bridge, there was more pressure applied to the rope, and threatened to fail at any moment. Either they rapidly get this over with but cause a disturbance, or go slowly but slowly will the chance of falling will catch up to them. So either way, they're in a rain dilemma.

creak..

Muttered blasphemies escaped the male canine upon hearing the most unwelcoming noise to be ever produced. He swiftly turned his head to check if she was still behind him — she was. Now looking farther that, partly closing his eyes, it seemed that their window time is slated.

"We gotta pick up the speed.. Slowly." Hearing that, she nodded as she mirrored his pace. It was now or never. With tunnel vision replacing his normal ones, one goal came pulsating his mind — get to the other side. If one mishap occurs, they're done for. So they must wittily thread their way through this man-made path to the other piece of land that's awaiting them.

pap.. pap.. fshh..

His fur rose immediately from its bed, and he felt cold sweat beading its way onto his forehead. Cool enough to physically halt him from his tracks and rethink life choices. To his horror, someone as white as snow with its fur spotted with black hues was standing in front of them.

It was odd though. The Dalmatian was simply standing there, staring at them with an unclear expression plastered on its face. After that, it instantly ran off without saying a word.

Confused, their guard was temporarily down that they hadn't noticed that the same greyhound that pushed them off the cliff had sliced one of the ropes and endangered both of them. Within a blink of an eye, the grey dog was gone..

..Leaving them completely lop-sided on the bridge for a moment, and only hang on the rope. Despite having three points of the bridge still "intact", its reliability could only go so far, as from what it feels like, the remaining three were about to give up too.

With their upper limbs clinging onto the other rope, with its mercy, they used it delicately by "monkeying" themselves to the other side. Albeit that they were close, Zuma struggled to force his whole body to the ground as seventy percent of him was submerged from the actual ground.

"Give me a little push," he tells her, to which she did and attempted to give him a boost with her hind-legs. As he swung forth like a pendulum, with perfect momentum, he was able to grasp the ground and pull himself up.

Now standing safely on the terra firma, he reached his paws out to her, carefully tip-toeing to the edge. Luckily, it wasn't as hard as they thought as he instantly got her safely by his side.

Patting away the snow off of them, he went to fish for his map to get them back on track as fast as possible, but to his dismay, it wasn't there anymore.

Out of frustration, he threaded his paws to his forehead and pep-talked himself that everything will be alright and be worked out.

"Alright. Follow me—"

"I wouldn't go there if I were you. It's notorious to be thorny."

Halting in his tracks, he looked back at her and raised an eyebrow in interrogation.

"How did you know?"

"Well.. I've gone here a few times before. So the best route should be this way."

"Wait.. This isn't even on the map?"

"Trust me on this one. Follow me."

A little bit skeptical, considering they had at least encountered three sabotagers — well the other one barely being a threat — he couldn't bring himself to trust anyone so easily anymore, not even himself at this point.

Trailing behind her paw prints, they entered a more secluded part of the forest. It was much dimmer, and the leaves were more clustered together. Stealing a glance from the above, the skies remained to be shadowed still with barely any trace of daylight breaking into it.

He was beginning to assume that the sun had decided not to see itself out for the occasion. Perhaps it would be the best choice as of the moment if he was still to search for the flower, but if he were to weave his way through these dingy areas, he'd very much appreciate a shed of luminosity along his way.

"We're almost there," she eventually said amidst still frosty atmospheres, as if she was able to read his mind of disliking areas that violate his personal space.

Slightly nodding to indicate he understood her, he felt a sharp sting on his paws and winced at the sensation. Hissing, he quickly raised the affected paw and looked to see if he somehow managed to step on something venomous or simply a prick.

Luckily it was mere natural fleshy blades and he was able to pluck it out with ease.

"Wait.." far ahead from him, no longer does he see the Cockapoo leading him. He began to grind his teeth with frustration at the realization that he was backstabbed. It didn't dig deeper into his chest, however.

So he was able to shrug it off like feathers on his shoulders and advanced in his tracks with scrunched brows and a loudly beating heart that tried to conceal its apprehensions.

Vines of sorts made their way to latch onto his limbs, and even at intervals would he be slapped by leaves that hung mischievously onto the branches, as if adding more salt to injury.

Despite all that, it didn't slow him down and continued to march forward, even though he really really was at the brink of losing his cool.

Finally, after escaping that rabbit hole, he was able to take a breather. Clouds of white had fogged his visions as humid air rapidly dispersed itself out of his chest cavity; some of his body was covered with peripheral cuts, while his paws suffered the most from that blow.

Everything with him was exhausted. He wanted to give up at that point — lay on the ground and immerse himself within the snow, and wait until the spring season arrives to thaw of what's left.

But his mouth wells up, and his eyes bitter at a faint core memory that's hidden at the back, but would time and time again resurface.

Gripping onto this affliction, suddenly, he lost the ability for his chest to rise and drop. His airways had constricted and his eyes began to sting of acid. "Suck it up," he told himself over and over again, drilling those words into his mind and hope that it would be enough to disillusion himself from whatever he was feeling..

..He shot his eyes up when he heard soft grumbling behind him, tracing the steps he took. Though his mind was all over the place and probably vined, with a clenched chest, he proceeded with heavy footsteps as he attempted to advance further into his steps to beat his unannounced competition.

"There's no time to lose" he breathlessly told himself, panicking yet again that the flower might be gone now.

But as he grew closer to where the flower must've been situating itself from the public eye, the skies grew darker, and the wind became more violent and frigid that it had gotten too difficult to see and breathe properly without the risk of getting bitten by frost.

He thought that.. Obtaining it would be easy, but perhaps there too, was a reason it only attracted a counted number of people — it probably was the journey.

Most would've backed away; run back to town and discourage anyone from pursuing it, traduce the story and question its legitimacy, or entitle themselves as jest for believing a mere fabrication that's told for probably entertainment purposes.

Zuma on the other hand though? Although he both has something to gain and or be deprived of when he succeeds or fails in this conquest, these somehow meant nothing to him as the blaring deadline had numbed him and urged him more so to speed up the whole process.

Crossing further past these boundaries while the atmosphere had thinned itself more, the snowflakes unveiled themselves wielding blades as they brushed past him and turned his breaths into ghosts that tread through him.

Like an orchestra that was in betwixt the inception and climax; with the violins stringing his faith, the drums banging past these barriers with purpose and longingness; the brasses performing unapologetically, and the flutes struggling to carry him forth..

..With one release of a breath, it felt as though all wind had fallen flat. Lo and behold — The Obelus Flower — standing in isolation in peace with all its glory for better or worse.

Somehow, he felt his eyes well up with a quivering mouth at the sight of it all. He couldn't believe that the often "mythed" purple flora is actually true.

But of course, with great power comes with its flaw..

Drawing closer to it, adding another inch closer to their distance, he felt his heart race with all the possibilities that could happen to him — he could become the most well-respected canine for taking on a such dangerous expedition, or beheaded for lies or out of jealousy; he could probably replicate the flower and distribute this.

PAP..

In a blink of an eye, his limbs were pinned to the ground by that same gray Mongrel who had placed his life in danger. Grunting at the pain, he swiftly kicked his abdomen to send him flying or inflict pain to paralyze him — temporarily at least.

While running though, he found another figure coming forth with the same eagerness as he does. What appears was a French Bulldog; and it being clearly smaller, he knew he can take on him and decided to pounce him.

YELP!

Now that he was stunned to the ground, he went forth the flower, unknowing that the fight between the three hadn't finished yet. With his guard down, he was forcibly yanked to the ground, while the Mongrel sandwiched him along with the Bulldog.

Zuma struggled in between breaths to recover upon his feet as all of the Mongrel's body weight pinned him to the ground, all while attempting to constrict his airways from properly functioning — this furthermore made situations harder for the Bulldog as he then retaliated with miscalculated bites or barely even piercing efforts.

From the back of his mind, though appearing as a canine with more energy left, he could feel everything become ablur as the more dominant canine remained adamant with aggressive pressure.

As he was at the brink of the candles blowing out, he felt the weight off of his throat and coughed violently of the trapped carbon dioxide that circled his esophagus, tears following after that too. Amidst that, he caught a glimpse of another competitor, and it appears to be the German Shepherd he had encountered earlier.

It had flames for its pair of eyes, disheveled fur that's effortlessly — yet horridly — decorated with earthy contents and snow, and his body was armed with nothing but his burning determination.

He knew it would be like fighting with a fiery titan with his measly dwarf of stature, though what appeared to be his luck, was that the German Shepherd was preoccupied with the equally determined Mongrel. Knowing this, he knew that this was his window to shadow his way to it and escape unknowingly.

PAP..

On the sidelines, he barely caught a fur of white that's passively attacking everyone with mere snowballs. Although it seemed he was much of a coward to actually take part in this "blood" shed play and worthily obtain the flower with such triumph and effort. He knew little details would eventually bite him unknowingly, so swerving his tracks, he went forth the Dalmatian, who had its defenses temporarily down for he was prepping his next attack.

Eventually, the isolated place descended into madness and inhumanity — everyone danced around with knife-like combat and claws — yanking each other's flesh to the ground and exhausting them. All principles of belief were tossed out into the window as each and one of them wanted something the same..

..The flower almighty that would fulfill of their wishes that further proves the negation of their agreement that they chase after the same dream.

"STOP!!" Yelled someone at the top of her lungs. Eyes crimson red and fur all sooted with disbelief and hypocrisy. Everyone looked at her as she interfered in a legitimately life-changing battle; pausing it all for whatever useless reason, though one would wonder why they ever stopped too.

"..Don't you think this is all ruthless? Shamelessly inflicting harm onto others who did nothing but simply exist and chase after relief? Is that really a good reason to talk with fists?" She drew nearer, emerging out of her former hiding spot — it was the Cockapoo Zuma had lost minutes ago within the detour they had.

"What do you know about us?" The Bulldog then stood up from the pile, unclenching his grip from the canine covered in fur.

"Maybe you're right," was what followed next from the lips, although quivering in fear, continued "But I'm sure everyone is aware of what the right and wrongs are, don't you?"

Zuma couldn't believe what he was hearing. She dare speaks good morals and tell them off from being brute, as if she hadn't wronged him in the first place. But for some reason, he had his tongue bitten back and he couldn't express any of his suppositions.

"The truth is.. I'm after the flower too. I tagged along with someone, presenting myself as clueless, and deceived them. But what I've realized is that I've deceived myself from the truth and principles that I should've been holding on to. I've forgotten how to respect everyone, and myself.. All just for a measly flower that.. What? Promises chaos, all for only wanting one's wish to happen, and those chances are slim?"

Her eyes met with everyone, those once pupils burning in hatred, disgust, and pride were replaced into confusion and the emergence of sense. The Chocolate Lab felt her gaze land on him as he felt like the unnamed person she is mentioning is him, and that somehow.. She repented her actions and tried to apologize to him, even though she is speaking generally.

One by one had they stood up and let go of each other, though there still were embers of hostility left in some.

Silence ensues after all that, everyone appears to be dumbfounded and frozen amidst everything.

"..I came here to find the flower myself, in hope that I could escape my lonely life. Though as I ventured further, I found others of my kind and thought I could befriend them. They weren't after that. I did that a couple of times. I came across someone by the bridge, together, and thought that.. They were friends already and they can't make room for another one, cause.. If a lone dog does not want me, what more would an established pair do? I came too desperate that.. I've lost passiveness in the latter and fought for a flower that I did not purely intend to get in the first place." Was what the dotted canine said eventually with pure guilt enveloping his once hostile out-front.

The French Bulldog had caught a tear, and try as he might, he couldn't help but share his warmth by wrapping one of his arms to the taller one and comforted him. "Who knew little greed could grow so much and be blinding?" He denotes almost too quietly, but enough to reach the ears of the Mongrel.

"What made you say that? What were you after?"

"Fame; you?"

"Wealth."

"I wanted to seek the truth," The German Shepherd followed next as if the need to participate in the open forum.

"I wanted strength," Skye answered the statement, though it is not exactly structured to be a question. Her eyes were soft as she slowly drew herself closer to the misfit of a pack.

Zuma looked around everyone, scanning each and one of those who bravely solicit a flower that they're not even certain that truly exists — having of that chance that they risked it all for nothing, just like he did.

He wanted nothing more but to tell them why waste their time on such. But kept his mouth shut for he realized he was the same. His own greed got the best of him and had forgotten that never would he dare harm others with mere fists.

..What had happened to him?

"..I wanted the flower to wish for someone's health to be better."

Everyone looked over to the Chocolate Lab. One would think that they'd look at him judgingly for opening something so deep, but the thing was, everyone's reason was as deep as his. The depth is in the eye of the beholder

"What happened.. To them, may I ask?" The German Shepherd asked Zuma, whom hesitated whether he should trust his dilemma to those who once wielded a knife at his neck, eventually spoke of the truth he thought he'd carry to his grave.

"Well, she's sickly right now and I don't know what her condition is," he said, building his sentence as light and as simple as he could so he wouldn't burden them.

From behind, the French Bulldog lit up like a million fireflies in the night skies. Rushing, he managed to cling onto Zuma with those same scintillating eyes being flashed at him. Upon that, he offered that he could take his someone to his owner who happens to be a vet.

Then the Cockapoo came and added she could train Rubble to be like her — considering she has the advantage to fulfill that due to her being an active participant in contests — and hopefully this would push him to stardom; and with the two of them pursuing the larger ponds, they could share the prize money with Rocky, who in return offered Marshall that he knows a lot of places that they could explore. Chase on the other paw, offered Skye that he could train her to be physically stronger and have better endurance. And tying it all up, Marshall plated the German Shepherd that perhaps he can help him find the answers to his whys.

Amidst all that, Zuma witnessed everything falling into place. For a moment, everyone offered their assets to one another to fulfill the void that they'd been meaning to patch up. At that very moment, nobody needed the flower to make all those come true. Everything they could ever want can be simply fulfilled by simply surrounding yourselves with good people.

As the conversation ensues, the skies had grown brighter and are painted with a much brighter blues thanks to the sun's arrival. Every silhouette that everyone once knew as thorns came and unveiled itselves as mere sturdy trees, waving them a welcome of what the day has come.

Everyone shared warm smiles as they began to realize that the day they've temporarily forgotten, yet most awaited event, had officially announced of its presence. Despite many frozen fractals that had fallen before that, the first snow that embarked the genesis of Christmas had descended gracefully — Rubble attempting to catch it with his tongue during all that.

Their eyes looked at each other, their hearts very full with seeming unreasonable glee. One of them motioned to march further out of this isolated fauna circle and return to civilization.

༻───── ∘°❉°∘ ─────༺

"..Hello?" Zuma meekly questioned, peeking his head out of the exterior walls and into the interiors. There, his sister lay with a fatigued, yet relieved and warmest smile he had ever seen. Somehow, she was able to converge her powers to push herself from the floor and open her arms for him.

Tears came streaming out of him, unable to hold back these emotions as his adventure came flooding back. What an adventure it was, indeed. What he thought that he'd leave his hometown to obtain a flower that was birthed from his greed and maliciousness, took a turn and found his principles once more and some friends that could help him from these harsh times.

"I've missed you.." she whispered oh so quietly as she had her share of tears too.

"I'm sorry I took so long, but I am back now. I went out of my way to finally get you treated," he tells her this, and as if it were rehearsed, a cute Bulldog emerged from behind and introduced himself, explaining that his owner was a licensed veterinarian and perhaps they can outline her illness and help her.

What follows next was the rest of the friends Zuma had met on his pointless voyage that turned out to be meaningful. They flooded their little den with food and water to satiate the hunger that would eventually visit them.

Stunned, Zylith's eyes traveled to her brother's eyes, and with one look that meant a million questions, he could only shrug with an all-knowing smile, allowing everything to piece itself together.

"Where's Skye?" Asks the dalmatian, to which someone responded with a gleeful "Here!" And entered the humble abode with a literal sack of who knows what's in there. It wasn't exactly large, and neither did it contain an extravagant amount of whatever, but because of her physique, she was able to deceive the eyes of a few to hastily judge that she brought a lot for this occasion.

Her beam was enough to turn the already "lit" den into a house of lights as she began explaining of her whereabouts.

"I'm not sure if any of you knows this, but we'll be doing the exchange of gifts! Though I took the liberty of giving it a twist from its original mechanics. So instead, everyone picks up a singular gift, then we chant a happy song and the gifts rotate! Once it finishes, to whichever pup that gift lands on, it is yours! And as for the remaining gifts, we can do a draw-lots afterward, sounds good?"

Laughter of excitement erupted as they all giddily picked out a present and re-arranged themselves into an erroneous circle — Zylith taking part in it too. And once everyone was set, they sang a short but sweet Christmas jingle and commenced the rotation of presents.

Once that had ended, everyone had respectfully received their presents and gladly tore the wrapping open. Inside, some received a scarf, or some had hysterical boots that may or may not fit them. Others received kibble or treats with an array of flavors — not mentioning that some bartered away those flavors they dislike for something else or a much superior one.

Later into the night as everyone slurred jokes and out-of-tune sing-yells, Rubble — the English Bulldog — pulled a party "trick" by dangling a leaf with a stick and hovered it above two people in erratic intervals.

At first, everyone was confused as to what was the fun in levitating a cluster of leaves. To which he had explained that whoever is under the mistletoe, they must kiss or give out an air kiss, a hug, or a high-five to the person beside them; and when all the berries have been plucked out with each gesture done, it supposedly loses its 'magic'. This led to more whoops of cheering as they all pumped themselves up for this festive roulette.

In the latter, amidst eating a cupcake, Marshall's muzzle was frosted with creamy goodness when Rubble had decided to point the fauna at him. On a whim, he gave Rocky a kiss on the cheek, all while infecting him with the frost left on his mouth.

Everyone began to laugh as the Mongrel made an 'icked' face after that. And then next was Zylith, who decided to give her brother a hug; Skye high-fived Rubble; Chase attempted to blow Zuma a kiss as he couldn't be bothered to stand up from his spot where he was cozily wrapped into a dog burrito with the blanket he received from the exchanged gifts.

The night slowly grew colder and much later. The snow outside had seemed jealous as it slowly increased its falling speed because everyone within that cave had their own happy little world. Something that they've deserved after..

..Years of reaping the sourest fruits that they've found along the roads. It's as if finding an oasis amidst a seemingly hopeless place.

Although none of them had gotten the flower and left it to wilt in its own vanity; oddly, yet magically enough, it's as if they've got everything what they had wished for. Somehow not exactly it, they couldn't help but feel contented — like a scraped knee that may leave a scar, never to have the ability to revert to its youthful-looking self, were covered with a colorful bandaid that's adorned with the simplest of images. Not much, yet it was enough.

They were enough. They were enough. Enough by being in each other's company and shoulders; willing to take each day slowly to build into a better fruition that can be achieved without some kind of conditional 'one-key' magic.

In an unexpected turn of events, for this Christmas, they were not alone tonight. And perhaps not for the next foreseeable future.

——————————

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Singularity_Writes

Hii, I hope y'all have been enjoying the stories so far! Because get ready, there's still more on the way XD I'd like to thank everyone who's currently reading this and actively supporting everyone involved in the collaboration; and I'm hoping everyone is wholly healthy and safe. I wish you all a Merry Christmas and Prosperous New Year this 2023! xoxo