(no subject)
"You brought this on yourself, you know."
Alistair stood between Duncan and his freedom in the most commanding way possible (which, unfortunately, wasn't likely commanding at all in the eyes of such a big hound). The animal was covered in mud, dirt deeply caked into his short fur. How he'd managed to get this dirty, Alistair hadn't a clue - one moment he'd run off into the jungle after some sort of animal, the next he was trotting back, looking as though he'd dived into the biggest mud puddle ever known. It was the sort of dirtiness that couldn't be ignored.
That didn't stop Duncan from trying, though, as the dog whined a protest.
"Don't give me that," Alistair sighed. There were some things that just had to be done. There was no room for argument with this. "You act as though I make you do this all the time. I don't. You should have seen how much Wynne bathed the hound I used to travel with. You're getting off easy."
Duncan made an even sadder face than before. Alistair was honestly impressed.
"If you don't fight, this won't take long," he added, already trying to push the hound in. He only moved Duncan a few inches before he understood what was going on and dug his paws into the ground, rendering the attempt useless. After a few heaving shoves, Alistair came to the realization it wasn't working. He was just getting the dirt all over himself - he'd been right to take his shirt off before trying this, apparently, or he'd be doing laundry on top of everything else.
"I'm not against picking you up, you know. I can do it," he threatened, and scowled when Duncan looked up at him. He was sure the animal was enjoying this.
[Set Saturday morning/afternoon by the big waterfall. Feel free to have your pup see as much of this as you want. As reference, this is what Duncan looks like.]
Alistair stood between Duncan and his freedom in the most commanding way possible (which, unfortunately, wasn't likely commanding at all in the eyes of such a big hound). The animal was covered in mud, dirt deeply caked into his short fur. How he'd managed to get this dirty, Alistair hadn't a clue - one moment he'd run off into the jungle after some sort of animal, the next he was trotting back, looking as though he'd dived into the biggest mud puddle ever known. It was the sort of dirtiness that couldn't be ignored.
That didn't stop Duncan from trying, though, as the dog whined a protest.
"Don't give me that," Alistair sighed. There were some things that just had to be done. There was no room for argument with this. "You act as though I make you do this all the time. I don't. You should have seen how much Wynne bathed the hound I used to travel with. You're getting off easy."
Duncan made an even sadder face than before. Alistair was honestly impressed.
"If you don't fight, this won't take long," he added, already trying to push the hound in. He only moved Duncan a few inches before he understood what was going on and dug his paws into the ground, rendering the attempt useless. After a few heaving shoves, Alistair came to the realization it wasn't working. He was just getting the dirt all over himself - he'd been right to take his shirt off before trying this, apparently, or he'd be doing laundry on top of everything else.
"I'm not against picking you up, you know. I can do it," he threatened, and scowled when Duncan looked up at him. He was sure the animal was enjoying this.
[Set Saturday morning/afternoon by the big waterfall. Feel free to have your pup see as much of this as you want. As reference, this is what Duncan looks like.]