Nyms: A Fictional Narrative

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How could they be so calm? Every bump and turn, Nym's heart followed the same pattern, finally ending up deep in her stomach, where the beating was making a raucous she could not ignore. While she attempted pacing to chase the butterflies away, her eyes searched for some source of comfort. Granger and Kleos lay sleeping. Iota was sitting looking lost in thought. And Hunter stood stoically, never granting a moment's show of emotion. She caught his eyes running over the team, lingering on Nym herself. The fighter looked quickly away, still ashamed of her late addition to the team, though she had no part in the decision. If only she could have spoken...

She would have eloquently told those in charge how and why she was not capable of such a mission. These dogs knew each other, having traversed three worlds together. She was the outcast. The unknown. How would she fit in among these various personalities? She knew little of them, only what she had picked up the few moments before their journey and their scarce words while aboard this spaceship. There were Hunter and Thistle, two true leaders whose words were always followed. A Siberian Husky named Iota, soft-spoken and calm. Pluto, with her soft voice and soothing words. Nym wished she was talking now. Kleos was as gruff as the border collie was soft. The few words she had heard him
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Soon enough, the Ridgeback would be landing along with these seven dogs, introduced to some new world with no knowledge and no skills for survival. All she could do was fight. How was that worth anything when the opponent was the terrain itself? Dogs began to be ushered out of cages and fitted with collars. Last in line, her door was opened last, the tight collar secured with unsteady hands. Her obedience was rewarded with a pat on the head. While the others moved onto an unsteady-looking platform, Nym remained in the tight
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