well trained
The first time Rosalie brought a boy home, her dog didn't bark. He watched, he waited, eyes narrowed in jealousy and eventually the boy was uncomfortable enough that he left. When he didn't come back, the dog was satisfied. Rosalie was a little sad, but life goes on.
The second time Rosalie brought a boy home, her dog was more secretive. He left them alone at home, but outside he was fair game. When he flirted with another girl, Rosalie's dog snarled, and the boy was scared enough that he left and didn't come back. The dog was satisfied, and Rosalie was upset that someone would do that to her, but life goes on.
The third time Rosalie brought a boy home she told her dog "leave him alone." So he did. He didn't bark, he didn't snarl, and it was torture to see this boy come into their house and touch his girl. He watched though, secretly, because this boy didn't feel quite right. And when he finally did something wrong-- how dare he strike Rosalie-- her dog barked, and snarled, and bit, and sent the boy home covered in blood. When he tried to come back, her dog bit again. And again, and again, until he didn't return. And her dog was satisfied.
When she hugged him, and sobbed quietly against his chest, Shiba held her gently. For her he was little more than her quiet and docile protector, her friend, but he loved her-- even if he showed it with jealousy and possessiveness at times, he was rendered harmless with hardly a word from her lips. She'd trained him well.
ALSO REQUEST STUFF I am bored.