(no subject)

[god_of_the_arena]

Someone at the vet's office gave him the girl's number. He'd been told that she was one of the people that helped Bran and Foha when he brought them in, starved and bloodied. He hadn't had the chance to meet her when he picked the dogs up again.

Daine, she was called.

He ended up leaving a message on her phone, giving his name, the relation he had to the dogs in his care, and asked if she would be willing to visit their farm. He'd been told she was exceedingly good with animals, and whether Gannicus liked to admit it or not, he realized he might need just a bit of help. He was relieved to get a call back, and gave her the address.

Their homestead had come a long way from when they first bought it; the family had changed as well. There were still touches of Hild all over, even if she no longer lived with them, or in Darrow at all. He wanted to find some more permanent way to mark her presence... He would think of something.

He awaited the girl on the stone fence between the pastures and the road; there was another, sturdy wooden fence behind that, already lined with sheep wire. At his feet were three dogs: Foha and Bran, the fighting dogs Daine had likely met before, and Aster.

Comments

[wildmage_daine]

Daine remembers Foha and Bran well -- enough so that she's surreptitiously checked in on them more than once, just to make sure they're still getting on all right and not being mistreated. They've never given her any reason to think their new masters were anything but lovely, but she was so furious over the condition they were in when she first met them, she doesn't want to just leave their fates to chance.

So when their two-legger calls her and asks her to stop by, she's quick to agree. The clinic rarely sends her on house calls -- not unless things are dire enough that getting the creature to the clinic might do more harm. But even with her there to calm them, few creatures like being brought to the vet. Visiting the farm they're living on strikes her as more sensible -- not to mention kinder -- than asking him to haul them into town.

Besides, if dogs would be difficult, she can't even imagine the trouble sheep might be.

Daine gives the man by the fence (Gannicus, she guesses) a smile as she walks up the drive, though her attention quickly drops to the dogs at his feet.

"Look at you," she coos, impressed, as the dogs come up to her. The one that shows the least restraint is one she hasn't even met before, but soon all three are surrounding her, tails wagging. She runs her hands over them, both affectionate and assessing, and notes with approval that they've filled out without being overfed.

Lifting her gaze back to Gannicus, she adds, "The others at the clinic wouldn't recognize them." She straightens, then wades through the dogs until she's close enough to extend a hand. "You're Gannicus, I s'pose? It's nice to meet you."