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lettersforbloodThis is set in the 'verse of my story "Pantheon". Prompt is from here.
Pfft, HTML fail. Fixed now.
~*~
The little puppy whimpered and tugged frantically at the rope that kept him tied to a ladder in the alley. He'd been left here by his master, and he knew he wasn't supposed to go against his master's wishes but he was so scared for him. And he was so wet, and the snow kept falling and it melted when it hit him and Rags didn't understand.
He couldn't understand, of course. He only knew the sound of a few words. He couldn't have understood the furious argument that had gone on over his head, the words that his master had said in that tearful, pleading tone. The words that his master's mother had shot back furiously, waving a knife--not menacingly, just pointing, but the puppy couldn't have known that. He had leaped at his master's mother, and that had been that. He had been tied up outside.
He heard a sound. It was like the sound that his master made when he came home from school and greeted Rags, but it was longer, different, and not as loud. And then there were other sounds that followed. Other words. Rags didn't understand them.
Someone crouched in front of him--a human-being wearing an apron and carrying a basket. Rags had never seen a basket before, outside of Easter. He sniffed it for candy, but there wasn't candy in it. He wasn't sure what was in it; he could smell the contents quite clearly, but it didn't make sense. He looked at the apron, confused by that as well. This was not what people wore outside, and it appeared to be splashed with the funny-smelling stuff that his master used to make pretty pictures. But this stuff didn't smell.
The human-being made another noise and scratched Rags under the chin. He yelped happily but didn't move closer. He was at the end of the rope already.
The human-being moved to untie the rope. Rags could see when the human-being stood that there was something under her apron. He thought it was a toy. He sat up and begged.
The human-being shook its head. Rags noticed that it was a she-being. She had very long, wavy hair. It was thin, or maybe just wet. She finished untying the rope and turned back to Rags.
She made more noises that Rags didn't understand and offered him a flower from the basket. Rags tilted his head. Yes, that was what he had smelled; but that was why he had been confused. It was snowing. Where had she gotten the flowers?
Of course, it was too warm for snow. But Rags didn't understand that. He knew that there was snow falling. He also knew that he wasn't cold. But he hadn't yet connected the two. And if he did, he certainly wouldn't have realized that the smiling she-human-being offering him a flower had just returned from killing the goddess of the spring, only emerged from the workshop where she'd been disposing of the body to come see Rags, in fact; and was even now holding the murder weapon under her apron.
The woman made another series of sounds and held the flower closer to his nose. It smelled faint, like it was dying; but it also smelled very, very good.
He barked happily and let the woman thread some of the flowers through his fur.
Pfft, HTML fail. Fixed now.
The little puppy whimpered and tugged frantically at the rope that kept him tied to a ladder in the alley. He'd been left here by his master, and he knew he wasn't supposed to go against his master's wishes but he was so scared for him. And he was so wet, and the snow kept falling and it melted when it hit him and Rags didn't understand.
He couldn't understand, of course. He only knew the sound of a few words. He couldn't have understood the furious argument that had gone on over his head, the words that his master had said in that tearful, pleading tone. The words that his master's mother had shot back furiously, waving a knife--not menacingly, just pointing, but the puppy couldn't have known that. He had leaped at his master's mother, and that had been that. He had been tied up outside.
He heard a sound. It was like the sound that his master made when he came home from school and greeted Rags, but it was longer, different, and not as loud. And then there were other sounds that followed. Other words. Rags didn't understand them.
Someone crouched in front of him--a human-being wearing an apron and carrying a basket. Rags had never seen a basket before, outside of Easter. He sniffed it for candy, but there wasn't candy in it. He wasn't sure what was in it; he could smell the contents quite clearly, but it didn't make sense. He looked at the apron, confused by that as well. This was not what people wore outside, and it appeared to be splashed with the funny-smelling stuff that his master used to make pretty pictures. But this stuff didn't smell.
The human-being made another noise and scratched Rags under the chin. He yelped happily but didn't move closer. He was at the end of the rope already.
The human-being moved to untie the rope. Rags could see when the human-being stood that there was something under her apron. He thought it was a toy. He sat up and begged.
The human-being shook its head. Rags noticed that it was a she-being. She had very long, wavy hair. It was thin, or maybe just wet. She finished untying the rope and turned back to Rags.
She made more noises that Rags didn't understand and offered him a flower from the basket. Rags tilted his head. Yes, that was what he had smelled; but that was why he had been confused. It was snowing. Where had she gotten the flowers?
Of course, it was too warm for snow. But Rags didn't understand that. He knew that there was snow falling. He also knew that he wasn't cold. But he hadn't yet connected the two. And if he did, he certainly wouldn't have realized that the smiling she-human-being offering him a flower had just returned from killing the goddess of the spring, only emerged from the workshop where she'd been disposing of the body to come see Rags, in fact; and was even now holding the murder weapon under her apron.
The woman made another series of sounds and held the flower closer to his nose. It smelled faint, like it was dying; but it also smelled very, very good.
He barked happily and let the woman thread some of the flowers through his fur.