Dug has been running along the beach -- because it's fun -- and occasionally pausing to bark at the waves when they jump at him with any particular ferocity. When he sees the stranger, he slows to a polite amble and approaches, wagging his tail.
Well. A dog is a little conventional, considering the sorts of creatures she normally runs into. But nevertheless Iris bends down to give him a thorough ruffle.
SWEET VERMOOTH, IT'S A TALKING- no, wait, that's not surprising at all. Maybe she needs another drink to clear her head. But plenty of time for that later; she kneels and gives the device on his collar a cursory glance. Interesting.
Well, that much is obvious. Though what more Iris was expecting from a dog remains unspoken. Ah well - where there's a dog, there's likely to be an owner. One with a higher intelligence level, if she's really lucky. She strikes out a hand instead of trying to question the little dear further.
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"Hello, boy. Having a good time, are ye?"
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"Oh yes! I love the beach."
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"And what beach is this, do ye know?"
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"It's a beach." He says this as though this should be perfectly obvious. "I like beaches!"
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"Iris Wildthyme, Chuck. Lovely to meet ye."
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"My name is Dug!"
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