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May. 24th, 2006 03:30 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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neutral_omensDate: March 24, 2000 (hello, wayback machine)
Setting: The Manor Grounds
Status: Private, Complete.
Summary: One dog meets another Dog. Bonding happens.
He knew, for example, that the ragged-looking man wandering the Manor grounds was not, despite appearances, the sort of ruffian that needs to be chased into someone else's yard. He was the sort of ruffian whose ruffian side required encouragement and nurture. Someone whose ruffian side had recently taken something of a tumble. And there was... something else. Some unmistakeable and primal pull that came solely from the Dog, and not at all from the Hound.
Time to turn up the charm. Inside-out ear? Check. Big wet eyes? Check. Tail engaged in furious movement? Check. Just put a bit of spring in the paws, a little oomph in the trot, and it was all over with. Dog crossed the lawn, basking in the fresh air, and made the kind of small huffing sound made by dogs who wanted attention without the threat of a bark or the irritation of a whine.
The man turned. He had a haggard look, a few old scars; his clothes looked unwashed and possibly slept-in. And although he hesitated, he knelt, finally, and like no human being who had ever stooped to give Dog a treat (after overcoming the eerie redness of his eyes), he did not say anything. No babytalk, no cooing, not even a gruff, manly acknowledgement.
Dog's hackles rose in a way that was not a forebear to aggression. It was an almost human reaction to a certain sensation of wrongness, like looking at two images lying on top of one another, and while his eyes saw a human being, his nose and the visceral knowledge of both the terrier and the hellhound told him of a bearlike thing, a monstrous black beast capable of both the great affection of the dog and the enormous ferocity of the wolf. A look of recognition filtered through the man's bloodshot eyes, and he scratched Dog's chin--a gesture older than any human movement, acknowledgement that he meant no threat to Dog or any of his pack. Not quite submission--too arrogant for submission--but acceptance conveyed in a way no human ever could.
Dog, fighting his bewilderment, gave in instinctively. When Sirius rose to his feet, Dog was at his side.
Adam still came first, of course--nothing would ever shake that; both sides of him were entirely devoted to Adam, who was the center of his universe, the reason his heart kept beating--but it was nice, Dog reflected quietly, to have a companion of his own kind.
Setting: The Manor Grounds
Status: Private, Complete.
Summary: One dog meets another Dog. Bonding happens.
He knew, for example, that the ragged-looking man wandering the Manor grounds was not, despite appearances, the sort of ruffian that needs to be chased into someone else's yard. He was the sort of ruffian whose ruffian side required encouragement and nurture. Someone whose ruffian side had recently taken something of a tumble. And there was... something else. Some unmistakeable and primal pull that came solely from the Dog, and not at all from the Hound.
Time to turn up the charm. Inside-out ear? Check. Big wet eyes? Check. Tail engaged in furious movement? Check. Just put a bit of spring in the paws, a little oomph in the trot, and it was all over with. Dog crossed the lawn, basking in the fresh air, and made the kind of small huffing sound made by dogs who wanted attention without the threat of a bark or the irritation of a whine.
The man turned. He had a haggard look, a few old scars; his clothes looked unwashed and possibly slept-in. And although he hesitated, he knelt, finally, and like no human being who had ever stooped to give Dog a treat (after overcoming the eerie redness of his eyes), he did not say anything. No babytalk, no cooing, not even a gruff, manly acknowledgement.
Dog's hackles rose in a way that was not a forebear to aggression. It was an almost human reaction to a certain sensation of wrongness, like looking at two images lying on top of one another, and while his eyes saw a human being, his nose and the visceral knowledge of both the terrier and the hellhound told him of a bearlike thing, a monstrous black beast capable of both the great affection of the dog and the enormous ferocity of the wolf. A look of recognition filtered through the man's bloodshot eyes, and he scratched Dog's chin--a gesture older than any human movement, acknowledgement that he meant no threat to Dog or any of his pack. Not quite submission--too arrogant for submission--but acceptance conveyed in a way no human ever could.
Dog, fighting his bewilderment, gave in instinctively. When Sirius rose to his feet, Dog was at his side.
Adam still came first, of course--nothing would ever shake that; both sides of him were entirely devoted to Adam, who was the center of his universe, the reason his heart kept beating--but it was nice, Dog reflected quietly, to have a companion of his own kind.
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