Danton stepped between the two great panther statues up on their high pillars. He entered into the park and listened for the sound. There it was again, somewhere up the hill on his left. He followed the winding path that climbed through the trees. He had gotten near the top when he heard the noise again. It was louder this time. It was coming from off the path over in the direction of a deep and thick tangle of bushes. They were the worst kind of bushes, thorny and all woven together. He heard the sound again. A snuffling, followed by a sharp ‘yip’ of pain. Danton left the path and walked quickly through the trees until he came to the bushes. He waited and listened again and there it was. The crying of some animal. He followed the direction of the sound until he saw something move inside the brambles. It was the color of old straw. There was a snuffling and a whimper. Danton went closer and peered into the thicket. It was hard to see anything at first, then there it was, yes, a dog, struggling to get free. He was caught in the thorns. A middle-sized dog, yellow, but very dirty as if it had been digging. The dog turned its face to him. It had summery gold eyes and a wide square head, and a dangerous looking jaw. A trickle of blood dripped down from the side of its muzzle. “Wait,” Danton called. “Don’t move. I’ll get you out.” Quickly, he tugged his sweatshirt sleeves down over his hands, and then pulled the hood up around his head. He turned sideways and shouldered his way through the tangled bushes, yanking and tearing as best he could with his clumsily mittened hands. They scratched at his face, and caught and tore hungrily at his clothes. Every time he got one branch out of the way, two more whipped right into the same place. They twisted and wove themselves cruelly together, but Danton was not one who gave up easily.
Deleted Scene - An Alternate Beginning to The Tiltersmith by Amy Herrick Page 5 Page 7