Lun is a homeless dog. His life was a relentless pursuit of survival, a cycle of hunger, thirst, and the constant threat of danger. Today, whatever number of years he had clocked as a stray, was marked not by celebration, but by the gnawing ache in his belly.
He was a large, imposing dog, but his frame was gaunt, a stark contrast to his powerful build. The streets were his home, a harsh mistress that demanded constant vigilance. His days were a blur of scavenging, a relentless search for scraps that would sustain him.
Today, the hunger was particularly acute. His stomach growled like a thunderclap, a constant reminder of his empty belly. He craved a full meal, something more substantial than the scraps he usually managed to find. It was his birthday wish, simple yet unattainable.
As the day wore on, his weakness grew. His legs trembled, and his vision blurred. Yet, he persisted, driven by an instinct for survival. The city, a vast, indifferent expanse, offered little in the way of sustenance. He was a shadow, a fleeting image in the minds of those who noticed him at all.
As night fell, Lun found a quiet spot beneath a bridge. The city lights were a distant, cold beauty, offering no warmth or comfort. He curled into a ball, his large body trembling from hunger and cold. In the darkness, he dreamt of a feast, of a table laden with food. But when he woke, reality was a harsh slap in the face.
Another day had passed, another birthday marked by emptiness. Lun was a survivor, a creature defined by resilience. Yet, the hunger gnawed at him, a constant reminder of his plight. In the depths of his weary heart, a flicker of hope remained. Perhaps, just perhaps, tomorrow would bring a different outcome.
