Trapped

We stood frozen, weapons raised, breath held. The bushes ahead of us rustled again. Something was in there. 

"Get ready," Oliver whispered, gripping his rifle. 

My hands tightened around my own gun. The night was still, except for the soft sound of shifting leaves. 

Then, from the shadows, something stepped out. 

Not a rotter. 

Not a maw. 

A dog. 

She was stunning, with brown and white fur, thick and well-groomed, with piercing blue eyes that locked onto mine. She was tall, elegant, with a strong build, but there was a gentleness in her posture, a cautious curiosity in the way she tilted her head at us. 

I lowered my gun instantly, my heart swelling. "Oh my God." 

Ellie let out a small laugh, relief flooding her voice. "It's just a dog." 

"Not just a dog," I corrected, slowly stepping forward. "She's gorgeous." 

The husky stayed still, watching me carefully. Her ears flicked, alert but unafraid.