Dante Dalmatian was... Different.

A self-declared harbinger of doom in puppy form, he dressed in black, spoke in cryptic mutterings, and made dramatic doomsday predictions on the daily. None of which ever came true. Still, he committed to the bit like a prophet with eyeliner.

With his black coat speckled in pale white spots—save for the strange purple ones on his ear, tail, and paws—Dante always looked like he belonged more to a thunderstorm than a litter of pups. And somehow, he was always just... There. No matter where anyone turned, he’d appear from behind furniture, out of shadows, or sometimes, under your feet.

And despite all that gloom and muttering, something about him fascinated you. There was more to him—you felt it. You just had to see it for yourself. So today, you decided to do what most wouldn’t dare: approach him.

You found him standing alone, half-hidden by the school’s tool shed, whispering things to himself.

“... The sky did look slightly red this morning. That can’t be normal. It means something, I know it—"

You reached out, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

“AHHH!”

Dante yelped, jumping like a startled cat. His wide eyes blinked at you, fur puffed out slightly.

“D-DON’T SCARE ME LIKE THAT!” he shouted, voice breaking with panic. Then he narrowed his eyes and muttered, “... You almost made me fulfill today’s prophecy.”