372. Before the Campaign, Death Claims the General

The Welsh Corgi is a small breed of dog, yet they are remarkably bold and alert. Capable of guarding their homes with high vigilance, they are among the most popular small guard dogs.

Do not be fooled by the Corgi's short stature; they were originally bred for herding cattle. However, no matter how alert this breed may be, it possesses one fatal weakness: short legs.

It would be one thing if they were on land, but the crux of the matter is that Hogg and his companion are currently at sea. Cat-lliman, that fat cat, cannot swim at all and can only cling to Hogg's back to serve as a navigator—a complete and utter waste of space.

Because his chassis is too low, Hogg can only paddle frantically with his four short legs. Every time a wave hits, he has to lift his snout high to avoid choking on the seawater:

"Cat-lliman, can't you help me paddle? I'm exhausted."

Cat-lliman would like to help Hogg paddle, but for some reason, ever since he turned into a fat cat, he has developed an inexplicable fear of water. He can only grip Hogg's fur tightly, terrified of falling off.

"Stop whining. If you have the energy to talk, you might as well paddle harder. I think I see land; lift your head higher."

Lift it higher? Hogg thinks to himself, how? His neck is only so long; he can't turn into a giraffe just by stretching. Who knew this trans-dimensional travel would be so unlucky? Not only were their supplies lost, but they also ended up in the ocean, and he hasn't had a single bite to eat, having only filled his stomach with seawater.

But in order to find land as quickly as possible, Hogg thrusts his dog head upward, launching