Hay had gone to make sure Ren and Angel were ready for the night, and Jon was standing watch, making sure the house remained secure. When Hay returned, she asked, "You ready?"
"Yes," Jon replied. "I'll head out away from the house a little bit after I check for any activity."
"Okay." She opened the metal gate and Jon quickly scanned the distance. When he was satisifed that there were no creatures in the area, he walked out a bit from the house, until he could just see it in the distance. Then, he raised his rifle, pointing it out away from the house and into the distance, and fired. Instantly, he heard them come towards him, groaning and rushing in his direction.
Jon raised his rifle at the nearest one and fired, knocking it down instantly, then took down the next one, which had actually almost come within arm's reach of him. After fighting through what felt like millions - and could have been - of the things, he started back towards the house, thinking they were all dead and Jon and Hay had thair answer - the things were blind, or at least couldn't see very well, and were attracted to sound.
That was when he heard barking. He turned around, dreading the sight of one of the raiding bands he'd seen running around carrying vicious dogs. What he saw instead surprised him. There was a small dog - a terrier - and a few others - a rottweiler, a doberman, and a few mutts - slowly approaching him, barking.
By now, he was almost at the entrance to the house, and Hay came running out, shouting, "Tibbles!" And rushing towards the terrier. It stared at her, and when she got near it, it barked at her threateningly. "Tibbles, it's me," she said, backing away slightly. It barked again, and lunged at her. She managed to leap back away from it and avoid being bitten. All of the dogs - which were all wearing tags, showing that they were somebody's pets at some point - acted wild, almost rabid. Jon pulled Hay inside and shut the gate behind them.
"No!" Hay shouted, "That's my dog! That's my Tibbles!"
"It's not your dog anymore, Hay. It's gone wild. You're going to have to let it go."
"No! That's Tibbles!"
"No! No, it is not! Not anymore, do you hear me? Answer me! Do you hear me?"
"Yes," she finally responded, quietly.
The next morning, Jon siad to Hay, "I have a theory."
Hay looked at him, and asked, "What is it?"
"I was thinking about the way those dogs acted last night. They were all wearing tags, so at one point, they've got to have been domesticated, right?"
"Obviously. I've never seen Tibbles act that way around me."
"Right. Well, that means that either it's been so long since they were forced to be domesticated that they've reverted to their natural instincts without any influence, or this change was sort of helped along."
"What do you mean, 'helped along'?"
"I mean, maybe they've been infected. Maybe they've got this disease, or whatever it is, which according to your theory, causes them to revert back to primal instincts. That would explain why the dogs were acting so wild last night."
"So, what do we do?"
Jon thought about that for a minute, then said, "We've got no choice. We'll have to just do our best to stay away from them, just like all the rest," here, Jon paused for a minute, hoping that Hay wouldn't object very strongly to the next suggestion and see the common sense. "And if they become a threat..."
"I know," Hay said, "We kill them."
"Not if we can help it, but in the worst case scenario.... yes." Jon was already not looking forward to his next encounter with these....hounds.