singillatim | open | chapter 2

Who: John Doe, Boris, and you
Where: the Malevolent+ house, in town
What: puppy adoption, catch all, etc.
When: end of July
Note: no warnings so far; I'll be a little slow as I'm away from home :)

[closed to Malev house folks]

John didn't mean for it to happen. He tries to negotiate, of course. He explained that he's not human, that he's something that should upset a dog.

Boris disagreed, and had continued to follow him around. And John is, despite all appearances, a goddamn pushover.

Which is why he is now ushering Boris into the house, shushing him after a soft bark, because if he's going to live there, with him, there are people he's going to have to meet and get to know as well.

Whether they're home or not, John is going to get the fire going for the evening and whoever might come will do so to find John settled nearby explaining things to Boris while scritching his ears fondly.

The giant shambling laundry pile with horns has a companion now. Boris, for anyone who might have known the pup, has decided to adopt John as his new humanoid thing that he will live with and John has, surprisingly, accepted.

So if you see him out gathering pine needles for tea, fetching water, and even hunting small game, he's probably talking softly to the little cub about whatever he's doing, breaking from the task to offer a pet or an ear rub.

Feel free to say hello.

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"Maybe he's just responding to your voice," he says as a huff before looking to Boris. He nods to the dog who gives a small yup on response.

"Right."

He looks back to Arthur.

"Fishing was good today?"

"He likes you, you donkey," he points out, catching Boris's head in both hands to ruffle his ears.

"Fishing was fine. I brought some home, traded the other for some rabbit." He smiles faintly. "Though with someone else living in the house, you'll need to start going hunting more often. He's going to be a big boy, aren't you?"

Which gets another little yip, and Arthur grins as he kisses between the puppy's ears.

"And he shouldn't," he says with a little huff before smiling at the affection from Arthur to their new friends. Boris takes the opportunity to squirm around so he can kiss him back with a lick or two to the face.

"But yes, we're friends now. And like I said: we're going tomorrow. I don't mind hunting. Especially since someone showed me how to dry out the meat."

It changed the texture in helpful ways.

"I wanted him to learn where we live first, though. Just in case."

"Right, well. Make sure to take a leash with you, so he doesn't run away and get lost," he says plainly. John's never had a pet before - and frankly, neither has he, but at least he knows roughly what to expect. "Tie some rope to his collar, basically. And take some jerky with you, tear it up into little pieces so you can work on training him. I know you think he told you he knows how to hunt, but he's just too young to really know. It'll take some reinforcing so he doesn't scare the birds away."

Edited 2025-07-28 01:29 (UTC)

That gets a very confused look.

"He doesn't need a rope, Arthur. He's been with me all day. He walks beside me just fine without it." A glance at Boris. "The jerky, though. He does like that. And if we do have some... growing pains learning how to hunt with one another, that way he won't be too hungry."

Edited 2025-07-28 01:34 (UTC)

"John, it's just precautionary. If you think I'm reckless, a puppy can be a hundred times worse, especially if they get excited, he'll run off like a fucking shot before you've even realised he's seen something."

He gives John a warm, weary look. "I just don't want anything to happen to him, that's all."

He looks from Boris to Arthur.

"...that's impossible." But he breathes in deep before looking to Boris. "But I'll be careful with him. He's still young, after all."

Boris yips at that.

"What? You are. And I'm bigger. You can't argue that."

Arthur can't help the quiet chuckle. It's so familiar, in a way that makes his heart ache if he thinks on it too long.

"Well, just make sure that he learns to heel. To stay by your side when you ask him too, even when he's raring to go. Maybe some of the other dog owners around have some better advice, too, I-I've never actually owned animals before."

"...what do you mean, to heel? He doesn't have feet." He asks with a blink. "But he stays by my side, yes. And I don't own him. He's a friend."

He looks to Boris.

"I can ask around about him, though. No reason not to."

"He does, actually, it's- here, I think." Reaching to tap the joint of Boris's back leg. "A dog's paws are just their toes, apparently. But- anyway."

He gives Boris another scruff as he stands up, joints already aching from a day spent fishing locking up briefly with a soft groan, and he catches himself on the back of the rocking chair to get himself upright. "A-anyway. 'Heel' is just the name of the command, as if you're getting him to sit back by your feet. It's where the term 'brought to heel' comes from, getting someone back into their proper place."

Boris gives Arthur a trot around once before bounding over to John, who immediately begins petting and scritching him. Boris looks up happily at John, clearly aware he has a sucker here.

"I don't have feet either, Arthur. They're hooves." Just a mild correction. "But I'll get to see how he responds tomorrow. For tonight, I should probably start on cooking dinner for everyone. Fish or rabbit?"

Edited 2025-07-28 11:51 (UTC)

Arthur does roll his eyes, but it's with an inordinate amount of fondness.

"John, 'feet' mostly means 'the bits you walk with'. Hooves, paws, all that sort of thing." He gestures a thumb at the door. "I'll get the fish back out, though, might as well enjoy it while it's fresh."

Boris is making the happy rumbly noises at all the attention and squirming into John's hand to make it clear he's pleased. John chuckles a little before looking back up.

"Right. I was able to find some wild onions so that will probably go in the pot with the fish."

"Not if we're feeding it to Boris, it's not," he says, ducking back outside. He's only gone for a few seconds, coming back holding the fish by its tail. "Dogs can't eat onions, John, it could kill him."

He moves to the kitchen, still idly chatting. "We can give him the offcuts from this, at least. If I'd known about him I'd have saved the entrails, or at least prepared it here."

Edited 2025-07-28 13:50 (UTC)

"I figured he'd get the rabbit," John says, because he hadn't thought of feeding him fish. Rabbit made sense. Wolves hunted rabbits. He couldn't figure how they'd hunt fish, considering.

"But that's a good idea about the entrails. We shouldn't waste those anyway if we can help it."

He looks to Boris.

"Rabbit or fish?"

The answer is a yip.

"Rabbit, then. Fish for us." He smiles at Arthur, audibly. "And we'll have our own hunting to eat tomorrow."

"Oh- no, I used them as bait today, that's all."

But the sight of Boris being so cheerfully accustomed already to John's presence, let alone his form, was a wonderful sign. That something so inherently wary of danger was at perfect ease around him. Hell, maybe a dog would be good for Charlie, too.

"Dogs will try and eat anything, John - it's actually a bit of a problem, especially when they get bored. As long as you keep taking him hunting and get him lots of exercise and socialising, though, he'll probably be fine."

"Ah," and he looks to Boris, "no rabbit. At least not fresh. But I have some dried." And he'll pull that out to offer to the pup, who enthusiastically goes for it.

He turns back to Arthur.

"Good to know. Well, I doubt we'll be bored. There's always something that needs doing."

And he'll be more inclined to go hunting. He just didn't like going alone, but he knew both of his house mates had their troubles and more dying animal sounds would not help that.

open | chapter 2 | cats and dogs

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