Another log!
Who: Abigail, Open
What: Searching for the Marquis's dog.
When: Not long after his post.
Where: Level 1, where she saw the dog the first time.
Abigail roamed the corridor of the first level, where she had initially seen the dog - named Renate, she now knew - while she explored the ship. She had at first avoided it, as she had explained to its owner, because it wasn't unusual to see dogs wandering around. They always came back when they were hungry, so far as she knew. However, he seemed like he missed the animal and she had nothing else to do with her time. Perhaps there would be some reward in it for her.
The Marquis had said that Renate should come when called, and in her experience with the working dogs in Salem, it should be so. However, this particular dog didn't seem to be listening. She was beginning to think that it was no longer on this deck, and had moved on to brighter futures somewhere else on the ship.
As she walked, slightly hunched to peer into doors that were ajar or into the stairwells, she clapped her hands and called for the dog.
"Renate? Come to Abby, Renate!" She would have whistled, as she had heard one of her neighbors do to call his, but she had never learned the art. "Renate! Come, dog!"
What: Searching for the Marquis's dog.
When: Not long after his post.
Where: Level 1, where she saw the dog the first time.
Abigail roamed the corridor of the first level, where she had initially seen the dog - named Renate, she now knew - while she explored the ship. She had at first avoided it, as she had explained to its owner, because it wasn't unusual to see dogs wandering around. They always came back when they were hungry, so far as she knew. However, he seemed like he missed the animal and she had nothing else to do with her time. Perhaps there would be some reward in it for her.
The Marquis had said that Renate should come when called, and in her experience with the working dogs in Salem, it should be so. However, this particular dog didn't seem to be listening. She was beginning to think that it was no longer on this deck, and had moved on to brighter futures somewhere else on the ship.
As she walked, slightly hunched to peer into doors that were ajar or into the stairwells, she clapped her hands and called for the dog.
"Renate? Come to Abby, Renate!" She would have whistled, as she had heard one of her neighbors do to call his, but she had never learned the art. "Renate! Come, dog!"