Graffiti

 Background- 

Growing up as a pup her parents were cruel, unloving, and harsh. They were members of the Skullcrusher gang which was one of the baddest gang in the human's city. She lived with her 5 siblings, mom, and dad in a dumpster placed a vacant lot. Most of the time her parent were out reeking havoc across the humans area and were barley back enough to feed them. The gang was full of nasty, drooling dogs that hunted cats and ruined property. Graffiti was the 3rd youngest of the 6 and was treated very poorly. Her siblings had to fight for food and after the six, the 2 youngest had already died.

"What are you doing, Slang?" The small pup turned suddenly and jumped when he saw Graffiti.
"You scared me! I though you were one of our older sisters!" Slang was the youngest in the group and was the only one Graffiti could trust. Her older sisters and brothers were so mean. "Oh, i am keeping watch for mom and dad. I am so hungry!"
"Me too" Graffiti's tummy growled. Both their names were based off of human things by their parents. When would they be back? its been a day already. "Come on, lets see if we can go find something." Together they went quietly down the alley. At the corner they carefully peered around it. They wouldn't want an enemy gang to find them. They slid down the road with their ears alert until they came to another human place.
"Hurry! I hear something!" Slang whispered. He slid through a broken window that was near them and disappeared. Behind her coming from another alley was a small group of dogs chatting. She hurriedly scrambled in and was pushed to the side into a pile of dirt. She was about to complain when a furry tail pushed into her mouth. Right outside she could hear the dogs, their overpowering smell was obviously from the Soul-stalker gang. She stalked backward, farther away from the entrance and stopped quickly when she heard the Soul dogs halt.
"Do you smell Skullcrusher gang?" one rusty voice male growled.
"Yes i do." A shadowy voice answered back. They started to sniff around the area. Soul-stalkers were know for their really good sense of smell. She felt Slang slide next to her.
"Now were going to die." He cried.
"Maybe they wont fit through the entrance?" She offered. But it was no use. If they found them they would try anything to kill a couple Skullcrusher pups. The stupid gangs have to always fight against each other.
"Hey its coming from in here!" One voice yelled.
"Hurry run!" Slang squealed. They two pups dashed around the dirty floor, running around old furniture and things. There was no other exit! Now what? "Up there!" Her brother howled. there were stairs leading up to another dark room. Behind them as they ran the heard the soul dogs breaking the glass so they can fit in. As they approached the other floor it slang tripped and fell down the stairs next to Graffiti.
"Come on, get up!" She yelped at him.
"I cant... I hurt my leg." Graffiti ran down the stairs, grabbed him by the scruff, and lugged him up the stairs. The gang was starting to break through and the first dog ran through. Poor Slang was hitting every stair with his butt because her short legs couldn't lift him any higher. Finally at the top she charged through. Glancing around quickly she saw a hole in the door just big enough for her. She push her brother in and squirmed out just in time because the other dogs were just coming up the stairs. Gasping for breath, she lay Slang down. The vicious dogs in the human home were trying to fit through the hole. She stood up, walked over to them slashed ones nose, and picked up her brother-who was curled up in a ball-and walked down the road. The human's cars were barely down this road. Cars are weird. They roll on those circles and smell. They also sometimes hit dogs! Slang was still in a ball but he was whimpering. She struggled on until she found a nice grassy area to rest in. The grass was tall enough to hide the two young pups so hopefully no other gang would see them. They also smelled of earth so that should hide them even better. When she caught he breath she went over to check on slang's foot. He was lying in a clump of grass under a little bush. Sitting beside him she lifted his paw up. It was swollen and twisted. "Aww, crud." Graffiti cursed. Slang looked up and whispered, "Now what? Please don't leave me."
"I wont. But we cant live here anymore."
"Why?"
"Its too dangerous and we shouldn't be treated like this! Mom and dad barley come back to feed us and we are attacked by our on siblings everyday with the fact we are already beaten up by other groups!" Graffiti growled.
"But where? There is no where else."
"Yes there is! Look around you! So many places not explored!"
"But its dangerous..." Slang shuffled his paws in the dirt.