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[b]Preview Excerpt[/b]

'Dogmeat' was the official title most people liked to give her when she walked by. The dog had no idea what it meant, but it sounded fearsome, so she eventually took a liking to it. Perhaps they saw her as some kind of local mascot or companion. Lord knows many tried keeping her in their homes as a pet, but Dogmeat never felt right like that. She was a wanderer, enjoying the excitement such freedom brought to the little piece of post-apocalyptic hell that was her territory.

Not that she felt above helping the more excellent humans that lived along with her range. In fact, they found her help more often than she visited them. Usually nothing her expert nose was incapable of doing with ease; find an item here, track a scent there. They were fun breaks from the usual hunting routine, often ending with a very yummy reward and lots of pets.

Today just did not seem in dogmeat's favor for those. There were two kinds of rain in the wasteland; the standard wet stuff that annoyed her nose, and the glowing green stuff that burned for hours after it had stopped. While both made hunting hard, the second rain tended to completely trick her entire senses.

Some time spent endlessly wandering later, and Dogmeat was sure she was heading nowhere near any of her regular settlement haunts. Worse she might have even walked right out of her territory. The last thing she needed was to be ambushed by some hairless whelps without also a chance to sniff them. At least the further out she went, the less rain seemed to have poisoned the area.

Eventually, she just settled on going towards the first building that did not look heavily damaged, or populated by anything dangerous. That ended up being a very red, boxy-shaped building. A few humans had once referred to it as a 'barn' where they seemed to like growing food nearby. That was a sign worth raising Dogmeat's hopes, if not the clenching pain of her stomach. More so when she caught the scent of those two-headed cow creatures before spotting them in a fenced pen.

Ear perked in a curious survey of the surrounding settlement. The place was full of scents unfamiliar to her. Aside from the barn and pen, there was also a two-floor shack nearby looking like it could house a few people. But there were no sounds or scents of humans nearby. She padded very slowly over to the front furniture to get a better whiff. There was a table with chairs and plates set up, along with several shelves lined with old junk. All of which had the most peculiar scent of a feline Dogmeat had never smelled before.

Perhaps the owners had an animal companion of their own looking out for intruders. No, that could not be, or she would be finding it's paw prints all over instead of the usual boot trails. And those were as fresh as they could get, made an hour ago at the longest.

She was crushed to find there were no foods on the plates. Not even moldy old table scraps. Dogmeat was just about to be on her way when a breeze drifted over the scent of fresh fruits. Big black canine nose tugged her along around to the houses opposite side where the sight made her tail perk right up.

Sprawled about before the mutt were rows upon rows of fresh growing foods. All were neatly arranged in square patches based on each kind. She saw wild vines of those big, green, melon fruits, bushes of plump red strawberries, and enough carrots to stuff a hive of mole rats.

What really drew attention, however, was the tree. Centered in the middle of the crops like some monument was a luscious tree abundant in full green leaves with dozens of over-ripe fruits hanging from its branches. It's very nature seemed to radiate out in the dead grey of the wasteland.

Dogmeat trotted closer, losing the need for stealth under the allure of such beautiful scents. As she got closer to the tree, its fruit seemed to be the strangest thing about this little patch of heaven. Just one was larger than both her front paws combined. Their skin covered in a weird, fine fur dotted by big purple blotches. Usually, those were supposed to be a massive sign of rotting. Instead, she pressed her nose right up to the lowest hanging fruit and took a big old sniff.

In all her short canine life, Dogmeat had never smelled such an array of euphoric bliss. That included the time she got her muzzle stuck in a bottle of Buffout. She was starting to make her own little rain drooling over this beautiful new plant.

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Big thanks for my daughter for this works insert image: https://www.furaffinity.net/user/blueberrysnow/

October seems appropriate to release a Fallout fanfic of growth and destruction. It is both the anniversary of Fallout 4's release and of the universes world ending nuke war. Definitely want to do a sequel or two of this one, if only because I want to put an anthro Dogmeat in some power armor. :B