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But we still have the ocean and the stars. Those who were lucky enough to have crossed the breadth may have stumbled upon remnants of the old world on their journeys. There is talk among tribes of a new world emerging from the biting, freezing Northern regions. Our leader warns we must appease the dogscape rather than resist, keeping those baying, mangy dog heads content. They grow out of trees and emerge from the ground. Howling. Their behaviour a solemn reminder of their noble ancestors. Sometimes, as I look out over the sea, waves crashing, stars blazing and shooting about the sky, those howls send chills down my spine. I wonder how the dogscape perceives itself. If it feels as trapped as we do. We created tents, elaborate structures out of dogflesh canvas, dyes and fabrics from puppyflesh trees. At the centre of our village a looming monument made out of what looked like millions of dogteeth. A vast, dogskull, made entirely of carved teeth. Toys, ornaments and trinkets made of dogteeth made life that little less unbearable. My name is Elisa, a name from the old world which I chose for myself. My dogscape name, still used by my parents and the Tribe, I'd prefer not to mention. My brother, who I call Felix, believes the dogscape is a kind of punishment for the ill treatment of dogs in the old world. He would show me picture books and read stories about heroic, loyal and good natured dogs. They would remain faithful to their masters even as they passed, waiting patiently beside a grave, as though expecting their master to emerge from the ground and embrace them. I wasn't so sure. I always felt dogs hated this place too. Hadn't they been punished enough? The tribal politics, the talk of Aduke and other dogscape origins, and rumours of far away tribes who would sacrifice young girls like me to the dogscape...none of that interested me. I hated the dogscape and wanted to escape, not adapt. I loved the sea. And every night I was glad I could come out here and take in the sounds and scents of that vast expanse. Imagining what lay beyond the horizon, the black sky and moonlight casting a blue glow over the breadth, the unconquered distance between here and beyond. Some nights I'd swim. I'd push a little further than I was comfortable with, letting the waves carry me. Further from the dogscape. The sound of the sea drowning out but never quite silencing those incessant, melancholy howls. The night would come, sooner or later, when I'd simply swim out into the nothingness leaving the dogscape behind me forever. |