Didn’t take long for me to post all the low-hanging fruit I had in storage; stories that hit between four and six thousand words that were in good enough shape to show the world. From here on in, I guess I have to work for a living.

I created Junkyard Dog in the 1990s when I was creating anthropomorphic characters left and right; he was the sane half of a duo living in the New York underground with a grubby, impulsive idiot named Packrat. It took a long time for him to find a story, but he eventually ended up in this tale about an unpleasant, anti-social anthropomorphic Wolf protecting a mountain of metal junk from avaricious merchants who want to use it to suppress neighboring tribes.

I’ve got some notes indicating that this story is set in the White Crusade universe. This was also the second time after “Found: One Apocalypse” that I wrote a story featuring elemental smelting; in my defense, I don’t know much about metallurgy.