Characters: The Disreputable Dog and anyone else who happens to be around, for whatever reason.
Content: The Dog is on duty guarding the hangar. The Dog is bored.
Setting: In and around the plane hangar.
Time: Any time before the race.
Warnings: Nothing beyond what you bring with you.
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Pet the dog? )
Still, he was grumpy and sulky looking as he made his way in, unhappy that he'd been roped in to the boring Guard Duty rubbish that he really had no interest in anyway. As if Cabin Boy duties weren't droll enough. What was he supposed to do if anybody came about and tried to get past him? Sleeve-flail them to death? Sure, so he had a little sword tucked under one arm, but the pink sheathe combined with the short length didn't exactly strike fear into the hearts of the wicked.
He peeked in, his small frame casting only a tiny shadow on the rectangular beam of light shining onto floor of the doorway.
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Recognizing her fellow cabin boy as she drew closer, she pulled up in front of him, looking up at him with an expression of mixed appraisal and greeting. "Coming to help guard these things?"
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"Well, I was coming to have a look at them, but I think I can help~." He said, waving a hand dismissively and allowing the sleeve to flap when he did.
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"Good, good, I like help. And if you were coming to look at them, you like planes?"
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"Yeah, they're quite nice~!" He said, peering in and looking at them all. "Don't know much about them, though."
He sort of failed like that.
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"I can't fly one either." Okay, so he had the capacity to, but he'd never learned. "You don't need to fly one though, I bet you could outrun anybody with those four legs."
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"Happy to see you have such faith in me~ They have always served me rather well."
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"I bet!" He chirped, clasping both sleeved hands together behind his back. "Are you looking forward to the races?"
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