[fancypost borderwidth=0px][justify][sub]Alistair didn't know much about his lineage. Other than that he was mostly belgian malinois and part husky, he was clueless as to what made him up. Nonetheless, the ex police dog was not particularly curious. He cared not for what breeds had been mixed to create him, a sniffer dog, a police dog, a dog that could run, jump, swim and brave fires, a dog that could chase down even the most elusive of criminals and slam the strongest of men into the ground. He, his littermates and his older siblings, all part of this mysterious crossbreed, were bred for one thing. Policing. But the thing was, they could do so much more. They were versatile.
One of the dogs, as mentioned before, that made up Alistair was a husky. And huskies loved to run. It was where he got his speed and stamina from, his wilder instincts that pushed him to grab, to hunt, to kill. He had not lost any of those urges, not from birth to now. In fact, despite his stoic exterior, they appeared to be growing in intensity.
The mix was running. He didn't know where to, only where from, and he knew not how long he'd been running for. Leaping over branches and rocks, weaving round the territory, he paid no attention to the sights, sounds and smells and only on the heaving of his chest, the beating of his hearts, the pumping of his blood and the addictive burn in his muscles. He just ran, and he ran because he could.