His mouth parted, his tongue slipped out, and he began to pant. It could not have been more than sixty degrees. Unfortunately, Tesla's wide girth and heavy fur were acclimated to temperatures far below freezing.
Four legs found solidarity and heaved the big dog upwards while his busy mind scrambled to make sense of the change in scenery. In an attempt to chase away the last vestiges of sleep, Tes began to moved his limbs toward a dilapidated barn, the closest thing he could make any sense of. Thoughts of steaming gruel and a hard-faced man drifted through him, but only briefly. As soon as he entered, he knew he wouldn't find any mundane comfort here. All that remained in this place were buts of hay and stale memories. Tesla liked this place less than outside, and it left him more confused and affronted than before. With a huff to mark his presence, he