The food experiments

VII

The sounds of nature were vague and distant. You could hear the wind move the trees and a few animals going from one place to another, but not much else.
The house was lit by the moon, but still felt warm, quiet. Snake woke up at 5 am, as usual. He didn't move too much, trying not to disturb Otacon's sleeping murmurs, but he was feeling thirsty.
He checked the room for a dog that had already woken up. He called his attention with a few silent moves of his hand and gave him orders the same way. The husky went from the bed he was laying on, to the kitchen, where he carefully opened the fridge and took a bottle between his teeth just as delicately - Snake had trained them all to that sort of thing, for the times he felt too tired to do it himself. The dog then sat next to the coach, allowing Snake to take it with his free hand.

—Good boy —he thanked him in a whisper.

David opened the bottle with the help of his own teeth and drank - the posture he had to do was kind of uncomfortable, but it was all he could do. It was only after calming his morning thirst that he payed any attention to Otacon. He had his back against Snake's chest.
Snake had been hugging him the whole night, but his arm felt just fine - Hal wasn't too heavy to begin with.

It felt odd to him. Not the fact that he had Otacon pressed against him —he did that himself—, but that he had willfully put him there. It didn't feel awkward to have him so close.

He wanted to smoke. If he moved, he might wake Hal up. It most certainly was too soon for him to wake up. But he wanted to smoke. He grunted.

David buried his head on the seat in frustration. He stayed still for half an hour but his abstinence kept growing, which made him decide to give it a try - he rotated his body and slowly moved his arm back, gently pulling Otacon to make sure he wouldn't fall after he managed to get up. So far, all good. He then used both his arms to unravel their legs, after which he managed to put his feet on the ground. He took a deep breath, observing him sleep like a baby, before reaching out for his box of cigarettes.

He went outside, accompanied by some of his dogs. There was still snow covering the ground. His huskies made an effort to stay quiet while playing nearby, checking on his owner, smoking, from time to time.

—Hey, careful —he warned one of them—. She's old, don't play too hard.

Snake let the rest of his dogs out and took a walk near the woods - the huskies ran freely there, just close enough for their owner to know where they were.
The muffled sound of his footsteps was no longer the only thing he could hear - given the fact they were away from their home, the dogs stopped repressing their noisy nature.

___

Otacon woke up by the time the sunrise came. He had slept well, probably better than usual. He stretched before looking for either Snake or any of his dogs. He didn't find any breakfast or remnants of it either. "That's odd", he thought.
He prepared a lot of pancakes, more than he could eat, unsure whether David would be able to finish them all either. He checked around the house one more time before preparing a smoothie with all the fruit he had unnecessarily asked him to buy.

The door opened and the dogs ran inside in a rush, barking as to demand for food.

—What took you so long? —Hal asked, not used to having him abstent by the time he wakes up.

—People —he answered, dry, mentally exhausted—. That's what happened.

—Are you gonna elaborate? I made pancakes, by the way. Too many of them, actually. I'll serve them to you.

The dogs whined, some of them trying to push Otacon and others trying to take his breakfast.

—Calm down —David ordered.

—And I'll serve the dogs too —Hal added—. Kibble, I mean.

Hal put a stack of them on a plate, added syrup and brought it to him along with a cup filled with the smoothie. While he was giving food to the 50 huskies, Snake sit on the couch and relaxed his body as much as he could.

—We walked until we got to that town with the big market thing. I wasn't paying attention to where these dogs were heading to. Clearly my fault —he clicked his tongue—. So, the market. It was full. And you know how it is - kids love dogs, their parents come by too, these guys love the attention... And I'm trapped there for hours —he sighed, after which he started eating—. I almost ran out of cigarettes.

—You've been this whole time without eating and you're worried about the cigarettes? And don't tell me "I never said I didn't eat", I know you didn't.

—I knew you'd cook something, I can deal with a few hours of starvation. But if I had ran out of cigarettes I would have had to buy more. Which would have meant more social interactions I didn't want.

Otacon sighed. He sat next to him and ate his breakfast with calm. His smoothie had turned out to taste exceptionally good, at least compared to his previous attempts. He hoped David had thought the same.

—Thanks for the food, Otacon —he added, patting his shoulder a few times—. Let me rest a bit and I'll hang your frame first thing.

Hal smiled at him, happy to see his improvements were clearly noticeable. He stayed with him a while before washing everything up.

___

Everything went somewhat quiet inside the house - the eldest dogs were taking a nap around Otacon while he typed on his computer and hummed a song to entertain himself. David had hanged his frame and he turned around from his chair to look at it from time to time.

Snake was outside fixing a few wood planks that had been damaged by the elements. He had been postponing it for days, but not only he had previously decided to do it today, but he also needed to have his body occupied to clear out his mind from the turbulence he went through in the morning. Maybe an isolating life would be easier without his dogs, but would it be worth living? He loved them dearly and couldn't imagine such a life, even if it meant having a better result at avoiding human contact.
The cold touch of their snouts on his skin, the scratches from their paws, the playful bites, the fur covering everything he owned, the noise they make for no reason at all... He wouldn't have any of that either, but his heart would feel empty.

He stopped hammering the wall. He sat down, on the snow. He lowered his eyes, but wasn't really looking at anything. His heart had always felt empty, in one way or another. He missed Frank. He wondered if he would have gotten along with Otacon, the three of them in a wooden house in the middle of Alaska. Maybe a visit from his Master every few weeks or so. That could've been good, he thought. A mess at times, probably, but good overall.

His mind had started to spiral into a series of depressing thoughts. He didn't want to, but he couldn't make it stop. His body felt heavier.

—David, are you okay? —Hal had come to offer him a snack, kneeling next to him—. You don't look too good...

—Yeah —he answered, a bit caught off-guard—. You just snapped me out of it. Some bad thoughts.

—Did I? How so?

—You have a gentle voice.