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Discussion Starter #1 (Edited)
This is the opening; I thought you guys might like to read it?
Obviously nothing interesting is happening yet, but still :)

I have the general story planned out, thinking RAW BONES for the title.
I might be back to post more updates etc, so WARNING: possible mature content ahead.
Also WARNING: English spellings and idioms ahead ;)







People. People are everywhere. Crowded coffee shops and restaurants, bustling shopping centres, tourist attractions, entertainment venues. Queueing, chatting, working, making friends, making enemies, making memories. Living.
Nigh on constant contact with others at all times, in some form. Think of all of those that you've ever met, ever saw for a fleeting moment... or even those you've never met; all have lives, loves, stories, hopes, dreams, fears, regrets. Billions and billions of them.
Or rather, had lives. People were everywhere.
These things aren't people any more, not really.
These things don't hope, don't love, don't fear. They eat. Sleep. F***. Kill.

* * * * * * * * *

Dusk was approaching and thick, dark clouds hung heavy in the sombre sky. A handful of brave snowflakes dared to fall towards the ground and were immediately swallowed up by the carpet of dust and debris.
The place that used to be a bustling town centre was now deserted. Already stripped of anything useful or valuable, little remained now but the empty husks of old buildings. A long water feature ran between the rows of ex-shops, but of course it hadn't worked in months. A bronze cast fish sat sullen in the channel where water would have flowed, but was now just a pool of rainwater.
Silence.
Scanning the scene, the girl pulled her dirty woollen cape tighter around her neck against the cold. "Nothing... again." she breathed to herself, voice raspy. She clicked her tongue and peered behind her. Two tall, hairy hounds trotted in tandem from the opposite end of the fountain to join her. "Maybe tomorrow, boys. Let's go."
She ran her fingers through the darker dog's silky fur as he raised his long snout and scented the air. The three of them set off towards the out-of-place cluster of trees at the far end of the town to begin their journey home for the night.

'Home' was a steel shipping container set amongst the oaks and the beech trees in a wooded stretch that ran along what had been a main road, a fair distance away from any built up zone. A three wheeled, aluminium framed cart sat beside it. There was a shallow brook that snaked it's way through the woods, fed by a larger body of water further up the roadway. There were no longer any cars - parked, abandoned or otherwise - in the immediate area and there'd been no evidence of another person passing by this way for almost two months now. She'd been keeping count.
Inside the container was only marginally less bare. A swollen heap of blankets and duvets took up one corner, furthest from the door. In the opposite corner was a battered wooden desk with half a dozen books stacked haphazardly beside three large, half burned candles in glass jars. A stump from the woods with a jacket folded upon it formed a makeshift chair. A salvaged roll of event netting tucked snugly away against one wall, two thirds of the way along the container; a length of it stretched across the width and was bound to a large, thick, almost straight branch which was wedged in the grooves the other wall - a sort of room divider come last chance barrier.
On the larger side of the divider were gathered supplies; stacks of bottled water, several tins of food, twice as many tins of dog food, a mound of clothes and a pair of mud caked wellies.

A hard yank and a loud creak saw the door shudder open. The girl stepped inside and shrugged off her heavy cloak, tossing it over the the other clothes that lay on the floor. Her boots came of next and were placed neatly next to her other pair.
She shuffled in her holey socks and moved the netted branch to grant access to her 'bedroom'. Slipping a box of matches from her trouser pocket, she struck one and lit all of the candles on the desk. They lit the far end of the container with a soft, warm glow; just enough to read by.
Back again to the door she went, peering outside. There was movement all around.
"All right now, bedtime." She placed her hands on the inside bar of the door, ready to pull it shut. One by one, her animals padded through the doorway and headed to the back to settle down on their blanket beds. "... three... four... and five. Good dogs."
She heaved back and sealed the door, keeping herself and her little family safe for the night.

Update 05/10

Thankfully, the cataclysm that had befallen mankind hadn't affected animals in the slightest. Tits and blackbirds welcomed the morning sunlight with their songs and magpies cackled to one another. Nature's alarm clock. Not that an alarm clock was needed any more; waking with the wildlife was now commonplace.
Even before everything that she now had to deal with, she had loved being in the company of flora and fauna as opposed to other people. If the fear of her home being discovered and overrun wasn't constantly shrouding her, this could have been her heaven.
"Breakfast!" she called out as she stepped from her cosy cabin and into the chill of dawn. Her breath hung in the air before her and her canine brood loped out. They all relieved themselves against various nearby trees, greeted each other with gentle sniffs, then paced around in front of their girl, pawing impatiently at the leaf litter.
Breakfast, on this occasion, needed to be found first. Ideally, she wanted to save her tinned supplies until an emergency - especially the dog food.
She smiled and touched each dogs head in turn as she walked out to lead the way through the trees. "Let's go find some then."

Not fifteen minutes had passed before rustling and grunting just out of view halted the advance. The girl held out her hands behind her as a signal for the dogs to stop dead. They did. Creeping slowly forwards, mindful not the tread on any breakable twigs, she caught a glimpse of her quarry through the browning leaves. Pigs. No doubt escaped from the smallholding a couple of miles away, they were completely oblivious to any danger as they rooted through the mud. There were three of them. Fat, pink sows with huge floppy ears and a good coating of thick, bristly hairs over their bodies.
"Fallow, Kudu. Get'em."
The two borzois shot off from just behind her and flew through the bushes separating them from the pigs. The pigs reacted surprisingly quickly and scattered moments before the dogs were upon them. "STAY ON!" the girl shouted about the piercing squeals as she and the other dogs crashed through the woods in pursuit.
The leading dogs held their course and quickly gained on the fleeing swine, their long, slender legs covering several feet with each stride. The black hound, Fallow, caught up first and latched on to one of the sow's flapping ears. He slipped and skidded through the sludge on his side, but maintained his grip as the pig swung round to change her direction. She was cut off by Kudu, the brindle borzoi, slamming into her and taking a firm hold of her shoulder with his gaping maw. The pigs forelegs buckled against the force and she crashed to the ground. Fallow regained his footing and he and his brother strained and tugged, holding the pig still. Within moments, she was up again, roaring in porcine panic and desperately trying to pull free from her attackers. More growls joined the awful chorus as Dandelion, the big red rottweiler mix barrelled in and sunk her teeth into the pig's left haunch. They wheeled around as a unit, growling and shrieking, tugging and ragging. Blood spattered the ground now, as the girl vaulted a fallen branch and raced over to the rabble. She slipped a long, serrated knife from the strapping on her calf and cut the pigs throat. The squealing ceased.
A stocky, wire haired, white terrier bounded up, yapping away and latched onto the dead pigs snout, planting his snarling ferociously.
"Lay off, Bogbean, it's over." The little dog gave one last shake then released his grasp and looked up at her, teeth exposed in a heavy pant. The three larger dogs let go too and stood panting, their combined breath and heat of their exertion casting a mist around themselves.
"Good dogs..." the girl whispered breathlessly, more to herself than them, "good dogs.". She leaned over the body on the ground and stroked it softly. "I'm sorry, girl. I really am."
Despite everything, the girl wasn't a killer. It pained her to do so, but she did, after all, need to look after her own. And, if it came to it, she'd told herself that she'd be prepared to kill anything else she needed to in order to survive. At some point, that would surely mean a person, she knew.
Standing upright again, she took the knife and began carving hunks of flesh from one side of the animal, skin and all. Her final dog, a blue eyed husky cross named Pignut trudged finally to join his family, pulling a large apple crate on wheels behind him. When she had finished hacking off bits of meat, she unlatched the makeshift wagon from Pignut's harness and began loading it. She gave her release command and at once, all five dogs piled into the carcass to eat their fill.
 

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OMG you need to write this book.....like now lol I'm not joking I need to know what happens....this is exactly the type of book I like to read. One time I wrote a "novel" it was something me and a friend wrote. It was called "The Mad Toaster" and it was basically about a toaster that gets struck by lightning and then tries to kill it's owner....I don't know what ever happened to it....but anyway it was just something that was kinda a joke between my friend and I. THIS on the other hand is something I could see billions of people reading
 

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That was good. Kept my attention from the first paragraph.
Looking forward to reading more.
Is the silky, long snouted dog a Borzoi? :)
 

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Great writing! Would love to read more.
 
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