Robb wasn't sure he liked the way the man was looking at him, but he did know he was hungry, and he suddenly smelled food. That was enough to dull any wariness or resentment. He took a step towards Albus and sniffed eagerly, his tongue lolling.
Albus had no fear of the wolf-boy in and of himself. What he feared was what this new arrival might represent. He knew that there were furries out there whose fursuits chafed -- no, not like that; well, all right, that way too, but also in a metaphorical sense! -- who would undertake all sorts of experimental treatments to bring their flesh into greater conformation with what they believed to be their animal spirit. They generally clamored to become animagi, a goal beyond even most talented wizards, let alone weird poseurs. Then there were the ones who tattooed their faces, had odd facial implants inserted ... This boy, now, he'd gone above and beyond.
Would there be more, descending upon Hogwarts? Albus feared for his beloved school. He could imagine having to turn a hose on squirming furpiles around every corner. Merlin defend against it!
But for the wolf-boy as an individual Albus had no fear, no. He tossed the dog biscuit gaily into the air, arcing toward Robb.
If Robb knew -- and could understand -- what Dumbledore thought about his state, he would have been horrified. This wasn't exactly something he'd chosen; when he'd been made king he could hardly have expected that he would be slaughtered at his own wedding feast, that the murderers would chop his wolf's head off and stitch it on in place of his own. That really hadn't been in the cards.
So really, he would have been disgusted, but wolves felt little disgust and the part of him that was still Robb would have been too bewildered even if Dumbledore had explained. What he knew was hunger, and tasty smelling somethings, and when the biscuit flew through the air he lunged for it and shoved it awkwardly into his mouth, wolfing it down (so to speak) in a single bite.
Robb jerked back as the Frisbee flew towards him, startled. He let out a sharp snarl, but his hands flew up of their own accord and caught the disc a scant few inches from his muzzle.
What was that? He yipped and sniffed the disc -- unfamiliar, strange. He didn't like it. And the man had thrown it at him. He dropped the Frisbee and growled at Dumbledore, his ears flattening against his skull.
This was a sort of furry Albus had never dreamed could exist.
"Well, hello there," he said, conjuring a dog biscuit out of thin air, approaching the wolf-headed boy with a pitying smile.
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Would there be more, descending upon Hogwarts? Albus feared for his beloved school. He could imagine having to turn a hose on squirming furpiles around every corner. Merlin defend against it!
But for the wolf-boy as an individual Albus had no fear, no. He tossed the dog biscuit gaily into the air, arcing toward Robb.
Reply
So really, he would have been disgusted, but wolves felt little disgust and the part of him that was still Robb would have been too bewildered even if Dumbledore had explained. What he knew was hunger, and tasty smelling somethings, and when the biscuit flew through the air he lunged for it and shoved it awkwardly into his mouth, wolfing it down (so to speak) in a single bite.
Reply
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What was that? He yipped and sniffed the disc -- unfamiliar, strange. He didn't like it. And the man had thrown it at him. He dropped the Frisbee and growled at Dumbledore, his ears flattening against his skull.
Reply
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