“Phew…”
Reed let herself relax for a moment, the last few stairs passing by like old friends. It’d been a long, long day, but… it was over. Finally.
Finally.
The routine was the same, as ever – unlatching the deadbolt, pulling the chain back, and with a protest of old, hardly ever used steel hinges, the roof access door on her apartment building swung open to reveal the sprawling vista of the city at night beneath a starry sky.
The roof was somewhere she’d come to relax, and nobody’d ever told her she couldn’t – certainly no signs were ever posted, anyway.
So. Here she was, finding her familiar folding chair seat (carried up here one evening long ago), and plopping down in it for a little impromptu city watching, gaze drifting down from the limitless heavens to the lit windows and busy highways of a world that never really slept. Out, beyond the suburbs, to the distant farms, and mountains; rolling hills, forests, and the sea beyond yet further, still.
It was such a deep thought, gazing into the horizon, that she didn’t notice the thump.
It was easy to miss, surely; a footnote, some slammed door a floor down, perhaps.
The second, though. That was a little harder to miss. A pebble on the stone rim of the roof bounced.
The third? Well, Reed was just starting to change her mind, gaze lifting from the city beyond to the stars… when she realized, belatedly, she couldn’t… see any stars.
The rooftop was lit by small string lights, strung around a small set of four wooden poles – and, as the cowbear stared up in shocked confusion, those lights provided just enough light to reflect on… a nose?
“Nice night for a walk,” boomed a voice, accompanied by what sounded like rhythmic, rushing wind – and, as the moon finally came out from behind the clouds that had obscured it so far, tonight, the newcomer was revealed.
A… a dog? A dog at least five stories tall, peering down at the hapless cowbear the same way one ponders a nice sandwich, or a plate of boneless wings. The wind, she realized, was their curly tail wagging.
“W-Well enough, I’d imagine…!” Reed stammered, staring up – eyes darting for the door, something the big dog also clearly noticed, as they leaned against the building with a worrying groan of brick and mortar, placing a paw in the way. “Oh, now! No need to cut out introductions short, is there? That’s awfully rude to consider.”
“I-I do need to be getting to bed, I have work in the–”
The dog laughed, a booming sound that set off a few car alarms a block over.
Their paw brought itself up onto two fingers, play-walking it’s way over to the cowbear – and, with a little twist, sent her spinning.
“We’re just getting to know each other, right? It’s nothing without foreplay.”
The dog tilted their big head, their other paw brushing the hair out of their eyes. “Got a name, munchkin?”
“R-Reed.”
“Arlie.”
The dog grinned.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re enjoying yourself.”
Her cheeks reddened, as she glanced down at the brick – uh, surprisingly… cracked, brick. The dog must not have known how hard they leaned against the building…
“Tell you what. Dinner? On me.”
Reed blinked. Dinner? Like a date?
“What, like, now?”
Arlie shrugged.
“What’s… for dinner…?”
“You.”
Reed had just a moment to gasp in shock as the big paw that’d been keeping her held in place suddenly grabbed her entire body, lifting her into the sky as Arlie stood up straighter. The wind whistled in her ears as she was moved around, lifted higher into the star studded sky (noticing, for the first time, the police cars and a few shocked passers-by on the street below, pointing and shouting) – until the paw stopped.
Beneath her, Arlie grinned, licking their lips – and their maw opened, sharp, canine teeth and warm darkness yawning like a cave.
“Try not to cling to anything. Last one who did took a while to get tired, spent half an hour with a lump in my cheek. Annoying.”
Reed stammered something incoherent, trailing off into a scream of alarm as the paw suddenly loosened its grip – the chubby cowbear falling, falling, falling – and being caught by a tongue.
Arlie snapped their mouth shut, pinning the struggling cowbear to the roof of their mouth – savoring the flavor, her clothes and her body and the shock and surprise washing off of her like marinade. Delicious.
The dog’s saliva was thick, and heavy like the sea – clinging to her clothes and her fur like nothing she’d ever felt… but it was where it was taking her that she was worried about. Arlie tilted their head back, feeling Reed slide backwards as their tongue forced her back – and, with one last, loud gulp, she plummeted away to join the rest of tonight’s dinner.
“Beef always strikes the right chords, I think,” Arlie hummed to themself, their stomach rumbling as the cowbear plummeted into the dark.
“Try not to last too long or I might need seconds!”