The dog was beautiful. The way the fur seemed to turn silver under the light of the moon would take anyone's breath away. The brown, black, and white coat's tips were frozen because of the cold.
The dog was standing on all fours, still enough to be a statue, but it wasn’t. It was simply too realistic to be one.
The dog then moved, it's back arching as it howled to the moon. It was a beautiful picture. The howl itself was not, it was a depressing sound. It seemed hollow as if he were trying to call someone who could never be able to answer.
He stopped, frozen. Cocking his head to the side in a bird-like motion appearing to hear a sound that was only audible to his ears.
A person hidden in the shadows, started to run away.
The dog seemed to ponder whether or not he should chase after them. Then decided against it.