This was supposed to be one of the Christmassy ones, but here, have it now because I only finished it tonight :P
echoareyouthere/singingfoxy_, this is your long awaited Pyrobee XD
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Pyro PoV:
For winter, it's actually quite nice outside. A bit cold, the winter air nipping at my skin, but it doesn't bother me too much. I got bored staying inside, with not very much to do to keep me entertained, so I decided to go out for a bit, have a walk around. Millbee told me he was staying in, claiming it was too cold outside, but I think he really didn't want to come with me because he was playing his PlayStation, practically part of the couch.
"Have fun on your sappy woodland walk!" He called to me as I left the house. I roll my eyes and laugh.
I take the path that leads down into the forest. Whenever I'm feeling down, or upset, need a place to calm down, the forest always makes me feel better, almost as if it has some magical force that wards away the bad thoughts and feelings. Even if I don't feel like that, the forest is just a nice place to be, which is exactly why I'm here.
This time last year, the trees were laced with snow, and the ground below them frosty and crunching beneath my feet. This year, there's nothing, but it doesn't take away the peacefulness of the place.
I hear a tiny yelp, and look around, concerned. What was it from? Did I make up the sound, or was it actually there?
Before I know it, something tiny and fluffy has thrown itself at my leg. I stagger backwards slightly in surprise, and let out a small yelp of my own.
I look down and see a tiny wolf pup clinging to my leg, looking up at me with brown eyes full of fear. Why does it trust me? Why was it here? In my experience with wolves, they're much more likely to attack people than they are to cling to your leg upon first sight.
I assume this is the source of the yelp, and look around for the reason the dog ran to me like this. I don't see or hear anything other than the faint rustling of the leaves in the wind. I crouch down, and put my hand out, letting the puppy get used to me before I touch it. It licks my hand, so I take that as a sign of trust. I stroke the quivering dog gently; for, I'm assuming, a wild dog, its coat is unbelievably soft. I spy something in the light grey of its fur that makes me stop.
A red streak. Blood.
Crap.
"Damn, buddy, I'm just gonna - pick - uh - lemme-"
I try to pick up the tiny puppy, which is now squirming in my hands. I can't see an injured dog and just leave it there, I gotta help it out.
"Ssh, it's okay mate," I tell it.
I have the dog in a lying down position, more on my arms than in them. I can't just leave this little guy here. I start walking back, occasionally talking to the dog. Thank God it doesn't start moving around or I would end up dropping it immediately.
I wasn't too far away from home, just a two minute walk away at the pace I was going at. I reach the door, and realise I can't open it. I try to bend my knees and open it with my elbow, wiggling around in a very ungraceful manner. I eventually manage it, and the door pops open with a little click. I set the pup down and shut the door.
The dog looks around, sniffing the walls and taking in its surroundings.
"Milbs," I call.
"Hey," I hear him shout back.
"I'm back, alive,"
"Damn, I was hoping I would be rid of you for good,"
"I love you too,"
I decide to clean the dog before telling Millbee. I take the pup through to the kitchen, it's claws making little tip-tap sounds on the floor.
I get an empty bowl and fill it with clean water, and set it down. The wolf immediately starts lapping it up, obviously thirsty. While the dog is drinking, I put the plug in the sink and some water, then gently lift the dog up. I've washed dogs before, so I have experience. And it's not like any dog can be worse than Pause's dog. Oh God, I just about lost a hand trying to wash that beast.
I gently wash the area of the wound, which is on it's left side, around its stomach area. It makes a little whimpering sound, but I reassure it and continue washing dirt out of its fur.
I eventually finish, satisfied with my work.
The pup is fluffy and clean now, in an acceptable state for showing to Millbee.
"I, uh, have something," I call through to him.
"If it's a contagious disease I don't want it,"
"It's not, I promise,"
I walk through, the puppy following behind me.
"A dawg!" He squeaks, forgetting about his game. He practically leaps off the couch to start stroking it.
"I just washed him, but I found him in the woods, injured. Be careful with his left side,"
"He's adorable," Millbee tells me.
"Good. Because we're keeping him, at least until he heals,"
"I'm not gonna object. I always wanted a dog. And this guy seems nice," he laughed, the dog rolling onto its back while Millbee rubbed his stomach.
"What should we call him?"
"Hmm... What about Beau?"
I look at the excitable wee dog, and study his face. He sure looks like a Beau...
"He suits the name, definitely. Wow, it's not often that the first name you pick is a good one,"
"Ay, thank you,"
"Beau it is," I say, bending down to the two. The pup looks me in the eyes and I swear it grins. I can't help but smile back. "Looks like my 'sappy woodland walk' was worth it," I say, sticking my tongue out at Millbee.
