Danton reached out and grabbed hold of a piece and tugged. The dog gave a cry. Danton could tell it was super strong stuff. But Danton was not a person to be easily discouraged. It occurred to him he had just what was needed in his pocket. That broken metal leaf from the fountain. It had a sharp edge. He pulled it out and slid his finger between the fishing line and the dog’s body so he could saw at the line without hurting the dog. In a few seconds the silvery line snapped and the two ends flew apart. The dog gave a small whuff of relief and Danton proceeded to cut the rest of the line free and to push the branches back. Then he reached out and patted the dog’s head. The dog pressed its cold nose against Danton’s palm. “Good puppy,” Danton said and he turned to look behind himself. For a moment his spirits were dashed. In the time he had taken to free the dog, any sign of the passage he had made was gone. All the thorn branches he had pulled apart had snapped back in place. Like they knew what he was trying to do and they weren’t having any of it. “Don’t worry, fella. I got in here. I can get us back out.” Wrapping his hands in his hoodie sleeves he went at it again, pulling and tearing at the branches until he had opened a new space. The dog followed, pushing forward without hesitation, though the thorns tore without mercy at his rough yellow coat. In another few minutes they were out, standing in the woods on top of the little hill. Now that the dog was free, Danton could examine him more closely. He was muddied and bloodied, with a rough yellow coat that stuck out in tufts here and there, particularly between the ears. His tail was short and stubby and looked singed in some places, as if he had walked through a fire. He had golden friendly eyes and that fierce dangerous looking jaw. As Danton stood there trying to figure out what to do, the dog turned and lifted his nose as if he had caught a scent. Then,
Deleted Scene - An Alternate Beginning to The Tiltersmith by Amy Herrick Page 7 Page 9