fandomtownies | The Park, Monday Morning (after salle practice)

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The Park, Monday Morning (after salle practice)

Brynmor had to be taken out every once in a while. The pup was growing well and at a steady rate, and he had the intelligence required to learn. Which meant he'd already acquired some of the most basic commands, and Arthur was confident he'd make for a magnificent hunting dog.

He'd have to take Bryn back home, if they managed to return.

Still a little bruised but otherwise... while not upbeat, at least somewhat settled, from ~~yet to be posted~~ salle practice, he walked the dog on her rounds through the park by himself, for once.

[[ mainly for one, but park is open ]]

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In between salle practice and Terrain class, Dinah wound up running through the park, practicing her route through to the Causeway, over, around, through barriers and obstacles as fast as she could no stopping and--

"Puppy!" She slid to a skidding stop, eyes wide, blinking at Brynmor. "Hi, puppy!"

Yeah, she'll notice Arthur in a minute.

"Dinah," Arthur called, and pulled on Brynmor's lead before he did something unbefitting a hunting dog, like rushing at her. "You can at least pretend you can manage some calm."

"What? Oh, hi Arthur." Dinah was already on her knees, offering an open palm to the dog, looking hopeful. "She's so pretty! And so big! Too bad I ate my energy bar, I don't have anything to feed her." She finally directed her attention to Arthur, and smiled widely. "Francine said you had a puppy, but I forget her name."

"His name is Brynmor," Arthur said, patiently. Kind of. "And you're not to spoil him any."

Brynne responded by shoving her nose into Dinah's palm. Clearly, he hadn't trained her well enough yet.

Edited 2009-06-22 08:40 (UTC)

"Hi, Brynmor," Dinah sing-songed, scratching her under her chin and smoothing her ears back. "No extra doggie-treats for you, sweetie. You have to learn to sit up and fetch and play dead and heel first. But that's not a problem, right? You'll get it, you're smart. Then we can get you a steak or something." She sat down in order to get close enough to scratch Brynmor's eye-ridges, and looked up at Arthur with a grin. "Where does she sleep? I haven't seen her in the dorm."

"He sleeps in the stables," Arthur said, his brow creasing slightly at the continuing insistence on she. "He'll grow too large to comfortably spend time in the dorms." Even if Merlin was a complete girl about letting her stay in his room. "Also, he's a dog, not a child."

"He?" Dinah could've sworn Francine said she, but pfft, details. "Those are warm enough, right? I guess they must be, if the horses stay there." More scratching of Brynmor's neck, and pats on the shoulders. "So? Dogs are intelligent. They understand commands, they can understand praise too. Even if it's just tone of voice." Dinah grinned at Bryn, and said very seriously, "It's not like with cats. Those guys just take a message and get back to you later."

"That's not praise, that's infant talk," Arthur said, with a roll of his eyes. At least he was somewhat back to normal right now. "Cats make fairly useless pets unless they earn their keep hunting rats."

Edited 2009-06-22 08:51 (UTC)

Dinah made a face at him. "That's not infant talk." She grinned evilly. "This is infant talk: Ouza widdle sweetie? Oo are! Oo are!" She shook Brynmor's head between her hands and laughed. "And cats are great company. That's enough purpose for me to keep Camille forever, right there. Non-judgemental friendship and entertainment value."

"In other words, useless," Arthur said, with some cheer that may or may not have been faked.

Brynmor just insisted on blinking up at Dinah with slightly confused eyes as her head got shook around a bit.

"Brynmor, however, will make for a good hunting hound. So do try not to ruin him."

Dinah rolled her eyes. "And confronting lions, don't forget." She continued to pet Brynmor, with no shaking this time, and asked, "Hunting what? Rabbits? Those blue deer?" She paused, then said, "I guess whatever it is they hunt back in Camelot too, hunh. When you go back."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Yes, being that he's a sighthound, rabbit and deer; although we're not killing any of the blue kind. It seems like a risk." Of putting a curse on Fandom. He'd done that once, not doing it again.

"Sighthound. As opposed to-- oh, right, scenthound. Bloodhound," Dinah said, her own context coming into play. "And the little blue deer could be endangered, I guess. Since they're here on the Island, and I've never heard of them anywhere else." More scritching and rubbing of ears. "What's Brynn learned so far?"

"Sitting, and not running off after every blonde bird they run into," he said, with a nonchalance. Yes, he'd looked up Tweety. Hush. "Everything else will take time. There's no point in breaking him early."

Talking about the dog was easy and fine.

That got him a glare. "Tweety always wins, did you notice that?"

Dinah turned back to the dog, and looped an arm around its neck. "No breaking! No! Brynmor is too cute to be broken! He's not a horse. Just a puppy." She rubbed a hand down the puppy's snout. "Unless you're just being vague and British or Albion-ish again, and you just mean not training him until he has a mental breakdown or something."

... Yeah. Arthur would stare at her for a moment.

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course I'm not actually going to break him," he said, "If he's too scared to do anything or too crippled to walk, he's of no use to me."

"You talk weird, Arthur. I have to check." Which was fun to say when she wasn't in the salle and likely to get whapped with a practice sword for it. "How would I know? Half the time I don't understand you just because of the phrasing, forget anything you actually mean by it." Dinah patted Brynmor on top of the puppy's head. "Good to know, though."

"I phrase perfectly well," Arthur told her, with a roll of his eyes, "It's hardly my fault you speak like a fox who's been at the wine once too often."

He was also tracking what she was doing to his dog the whole time.

"Foxes get into wine?" Okay, that was an entertaining mental image. "You'd never manage in New Gotham. Da guys there, they'd be lookin' at ya funny da moment ya opened your mouth," Dinah said in a broad Jersey accent. Reverting to her own accent, she said, "Merlin's only a little better. Which I don't get. It must be the time travel. I understand Alfred perfectly fine, and he's from London." There might be tummy-rubbing now. And Arthur would have to yank on that leash to get Dinah to stop it.

Edited 2009-06-22 09:24 (UTC)

"Dinah, stop spoiling him," Arthur said, immediately.

Seriously!

"I'm not from London, which lies far to the east, so obviously I wouldn't sound like your Alfred." Why were they even arguing about this? He shook his head. "I would survive fine in New Gotham." Presumably. "I simply have no plans to be there."

"What are you talking about?" Dinah said in her most reasonable voice. "I'm not giving him food he shouldn't have, or letting him off the leash, or messing up his training." And affection is not spoiling!

"Hunh. Okay. I need to get a map, look up where Camelot was supposed to be." She cocked her head, thinking. While petting the dog. "You know, you could visit sometime. Not to stay," she said hastily. Because they were Not Ever Talking About That. "Just to see it." And fortunately or unfortunately, she could believe he'd do fine against New Gotham muggers. The meta-criminals on the other hand... well, that's why he'd need an escort. Or Merlin would kill her. "Someday."

"Quite enough of the petting," Arthur said, dismissively. If he had to clarify... "As for New Gotham, perhaps." As long as he didn't get stuck there. New Gotham as a legend terrified him as such. "Someday."

"Awwwwwww." Dinah contravened a direct order to hug Brynne and kiss him-her-it between the ears before letting go, and giving Arthur puppy-eyes to rival Brynne's. Not that it would have an effect. "Cool cool." She got to her feet and brushed off her running shorts. "Have fun teaching Brynne how to heel. And chase. Ooo, maybe he can catch a squirrel for you!"

Arthur rolled his eyes expressively during her whole kissing routine (such a total girl) again. "Now that might actually be an idea," he did say, once she'd gotten the last part out. "Bloody squirrels are a menace."

Dinah leaned down to hug Brynmor again. Stealth love! "Of course, if you did that, they'd all hate you more and not give you rum on your broadcast nights and maybe go after Brynne. This," she said in a squeaky voice, "means WAR!"

"It does mean war," Arthur said, impatiently, "On those godforsaken squirrels. A worse source of lies and misinformation has yet to be discovered."

"Well, and Mr. Deadpool. Since he admits to making things up if the notes are too boring." Dinah snorted. "I would've been in three love triangles by now if he were going to be believed." Still rubbing Brynmor's ears, yup. Good doggie!

Arthur had had quite enough of it, and made a swatting motion at her hands. "Well, anyone who knows you would know that isn't true," he said, flippantly, "So that's hardly a problem."

Oh, Arthur, just keep setting the bar high for jackasses to come.

Dinah swatted back at Arthur's hands, especially after that crack. "How would you know?" she demanded, in total contradiction to what she'd just said. "I could have been! You wouldn't have noticed!"

"You just said it was a fabrication," Arthur pointed out, smugly.

Dinah spluttered, wanting to jump up and down, because that wasn't what he'd meant before, or said, but it was true, and God, she hated losing arguments with him because she got mad. Just for that, she got down to hug Brynmor again, then stood up. "Someday," she said with as much dignity as she could muster, "You are going to have to report on me doing something really heroic or romantic, and I hope you choke on the rum."

"Let me know when that happens," Arthur said, freely and unbothered. "Though, with any luck, you'll manage to hit something with that sword by the end of the year, so there might actually be a chance of it."

Backhanded compliments were totally his forte.

He... May have been acting out a little bit.

Dinah hated when he did that. Because from him, that was a compliment, and if you yelled at him for it, he'd say something like What, you don't think you'll do it? Never mind practice, then and go on his way. Grrrr.

"I will!" Which sounded lame, like saying she'd be in a love triangle by Christmas would. "Sooner than that. And petting a dog is not spoiling a dog, unless the dog's just useless to start with." She patted Brynne one more defiant time. "And she isn't."

"He," Arthur said, patiently, "Is going to wind up a lapdog at the way you people treat him."

"Only if the lap is bigger than Emmett's," Dinah said, almost cheerful again. Even if she was going to be working even harder at sword practice for a while now. Since setting up a love triangle was both impossible and stupid. "Right Brynne? Hunt!"

He was going to have to teach Brynmor how to chew on Dinah's ankles. Or he would, if he actually thought it was worth the effort.

"Keep on trying, Dinah."

One last rub of the ears.

"Got that right. Byeeee, Arthur. Bye Brynne!"

And she took off running, since she couldn't think of any better comeback than that.

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The Park, Monday Morning (after salle practice)

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