╓xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xx» wнere «xx
xxxHiking trail
xxxxxxxx» wιтн «xx
xxxxxxxxx- - -
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx» ғeelιng «xx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxIrked
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xx» wнere «xx
xxxHiking trail
xxxxxxxx» wιтн «xx
xxxxxxxxx- - -
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx» ғeelιng «xx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxIrked
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx╜
well ιт’ѕ a dog’ѕ lιғe, нoldιn’ onтo вeaυтy wнιle тнe вleaĸ nιgнтѕxxxxxxxxxxxx
are мaĸιn’ вeaѕтѕ oғ мen - тнe ғaιryтale dayѕ are deadxxxxxxxxx
ѕo тry noт тo loѕe yoυr нead wнen тнe ѕcenт ιѕ callιng agaιnxxxxxx
cold reғlecтιonѕ, тнey тell no lιeѕ вυт eyeѕ jυѕт ѕcraтcн тнe ѕυrғacexxx
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spaceLock snorted faintly at the way she addressed her dog, arms crossing. There were two kinds of dog owners, he'd figured out long ago- the ones that treated their dogs like you'd treat your newborn child, and the ones that treated them like you'd treat your best mate. Apparently, the woman before him was the latter. He was, surprisingly enough, the former. But then, maybe it wasn't so surprising, considering Tink was the only true companion he had. Oh, he had his pack, of course, and he loved them, even if he'd never say as much out loud. But he was their alpha, and had a certain degree of responsibility towards them that always seemed to muck up any attempt to be friends. Not that he was very good at making friends without the power structure complicating things. He was hard on them, and kept his distance, because he didn't want something like sentimentality to prevent him from doing what needed to be done in the event of catastrophe. Tink, though... Tink was his baby.
spaceHer apparent need to emphasize that she'd been talking about the dog, not him, managed to get a faint chuckle, which was more of a reaction than strangers got to him most days. Then again, he did always get along better with people when they had a dog with them. Provided the dog wasn't scared of him, of course, which did happen from time to time. "That's a relief," he quipped, brow arched. "Stubborn, Ah'm. But an auld huir, 'at woold've bin a surprise." He wasn't one to worry about his age, but even if he had been, he'd hope to have the good sense not to consider thirty-two old. And he figured he more or less looked his age. Never mind the annoyance that would've flared if the lass had actually, in fact, called him a b***h, of all things.
spaceLooking at her dog, he did note that Rose looked, if not old exactly, certainly not like a pup. When the woman commented that the collie was less likely to find trouble than she was, he snorted again. "Loch owner, loch pit, Ah guess," he said, though in his case, that couldn't be further from the truth. Tink was as friendly as they came, and he... Well, it was amazing he'd stood here speaking to another human being for this long. Especially one not in his pack.
spaceSeemingly having the same thought, Tink chose that moment to return to him, only long enough to step behind him and shove at his knees, apparently trying to make him close the considerable distance between himself and the woman. Meddlesome thing. Maybe he should've gotten a smaller dog. Then again, he liked having one big enough he could wrestle with. He acquiesced and stepped forward slightly, just enough to appease the pit, who then returned to her new friend, jumping to and fro for a second to entice Rose to play. "Tink," he warned, tone soft but firm. Rose seemed sturdy enough, but Tink was more or less still a puppy, and could get somewhat aggressive in her enthusiasm. The dog gave a soft bark as if to say 'I understand,' and though her pose didn't change, he saw her relax, slightly.
spaceHe glanced back at the woman, sighing with a roll of his eyes. "Lock," he introduced, if only to know her name so he could stop thinking of her as 'the woman' or 'Rose's owner'. The werewolf offered his hand, eyes rolling again ever so slightly at the approving bark of his dog. "Also nae a cat bodie. Dornt got a problem wi' them, thocht, sae much as they've got a body wi' me." Lock had never been a cat person, he rather didn't see the point of cats. But he didn't find them offensive the way some people did. They, however, found him very much so, due to what he was. He'd long since stopped going to any home he knew there would be a cat inside of. After the sixth time you got pounced on and your face clawed at, you tended to decide it wasn't worth the trouble. "Anyway, nae sure hoo a moggie woold've gart ye mair responsible. independent wee devils, arenae they?" Honestly, he didn't know why people bothered with cats. It was like not having a pet at all, except when they decided to make an arse of themselves. Which was frequently, in his experience.
spaceHer apparent need to emphasize that she'd been talking about the dog, not him, managed to get a faint chuckle, which was more of a reaction than strangers got to him most days. Then again, he did always get along better with people when they had a dog with them. Provided the dog wasn't scared of him, of course, which did happen from time to time. "That's a relief," he quipped, brow arched. "Stubborn, Ah'm. But an auld huir, 'at woold've bin a surprise." He wasn't one to worry about his age, but even if he had been, he'd hope to have the good sense not to consider thirty-two old. And he figured he more or less looked his age. Never mind the annoyance that would've flared if the lass had actually, in fact, called him a b***h, of all things.
spaceLooking at her dog, he did note that Rose looked, if not old exactly, certainly not like a pup. When the woman commented that the collie was less likely to find trouble than she was, he snorted again. "Loch owner, loch pit, Ah guess," he said, though in his case, that couldn't be further from the truth. Tink was as friendly as they came, and he... Well, it was amazing he'd stood here speaking to another human being for this long. Especially one not in his pack.
spaceSeemingly having the same thought, Tink chose that moment to return to him, only long enough to step behind him and shove at his knees, apparently trying to make him close the considerable distance between himself and the woman. Meddlesome thing. Maybe he should've gotten a smaller dog. Then again, he liked having one big enough he could wrestle with. He acquiesced and stepped forward slightly, just enough to appease the pit, who then returned to her new friend, jumping to and fro for a second to entice Rose to play. "Tink," he warned, tone soft but firm. Rose seemed sturdy enough, but Tink was more or less still a puppy, and could get somewhat aggressive in her enthusiasm. The dog gave a soft bark as if to say 'I understand,' and though her pose didn't change, he saw her relax, slightly.
spaceHe glanced back at the woman, sighing with a roll of his eyes. "Lock," he introduced, if only to know her name so he could stop thinking of her as 'the woman' or 'Rose's owner'. The werewolf offered his hand, eyes rolling again ever so slightly at the approving bark of his dog. "Also nae a cat bodie. Dornt got a problem wi' them, thocht, sae much as they've got a body wi' me." Lock had never been a cat person, he rather didn't see the point of cats. But he didn't find them offensive the way some people did. They, however, found him very much so, due to what he was. He'd long since stopped going to any home he knew there would be a cat inside of. After the sixth time you got pounced on and your face clawed at, you tended to decide it wasn't worth the trouble. "Anyway, nae sure hoo a moggie woold've gart ye mair responsible. independent wee devils, arenae they?" Honestly, he didn't know why people bothered with cats. It was like not having a pet at all, except when they decided to make an arse of themselves. Which was frequently, in his experience.
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xxxdon’т ѕнaĸe мe, don’т мaĸe мe вear мy тeeтн
xxxxxxyoυ really don’т wanna мeeт тнaт gυy
xxxxxxxxxdon’т waĸe мe, don’т leт ιт oғғ тнe leaѕн
xxxxxxxxxxxxтнere’ѕ a мonѕтer lιvιn’ υnder тнιѕ нιde
