It is certainly no D O G that slinks around the edges of his camp, eyes glittering silver in the light of a moon so sharp it might slide through flesh if one reached out to touch it. It moves like a dog but it is W I L D E R at the edges---it watches him with a nearly human intelligence, slinks closer, and settles onto its belly, sniffing surreptitiously toward his rations.
Strays were common in lands where it's people had no time to care for them, cluttering together in messy packs within forgotten trenches and slums, snipping whatever means of attaining food they could.
This was no different.
Kakashi watched the canine move within overlapping shadows, noted the odd silver gleam of the moon against it's eyes as it surveyed his camp, clearly interested in the rations hidden within his mission gear.
'Hungry, are you?'
He remained quiet, anchored to the dry, splintering tender at his back and watched. There was no room for needless movement, not this far behind enemy lines
