Fire Doggo

Rachel whistled.  She was catching up to Cassie, and the whistle was a cue to regroup, wolf and hound running side by side with a smaller mutant dog lagging behind.  Yips was moving in straight lines while the others traced routes that were more like S-curves, which let him catch up.  But those S-curves were for a reason, and Yips was running through every barely-iced-over creek and through very puddle, and a part of his shoulder was on fire because he’d blindly charged through a burning bush or tree.

“Capricorn!” I called out.  “Fire!”