Shadow of the Prince

Every Dog Likes a Good Scratch

Later that night, Dal was once again woken from her sleep to a loud banging. She rubbed her forehead, the fever headache a duller pain than it had been before.

How long had she slept? Was it dinner, already?

Dal's stomach grumbled, signaling that it was probably a good deal past dinner already.

Another loud bang came at her door, more impatient this time.

"I'm coming, you grumpy old man," she grumbled to herself.

Dal sighed and wrapped the sheet around her body as she had done before. If the guards did as they were told they wouldn't be looking anywhere near her when she opened the door, anyways.

She stumbled to the door and flung it open, and felt her hot embarrassment mix with the fever in her cheeks.

The blonde headed one, Hennisan, had a firm hand clasped over his eyes, and a small grimace pulled at his lips.

"Sorry to disturb you, lady, but you didn't answer your door earlier, and he wouldn't let us leave this out here," Hennisan said.

Behind the guard stood a very ominous looking Beasty, who regarded her now with a half-cocked head, and looked at her with a curious glint in his eyes.

Dal froze. He'd seen her face. The real one. The possible shifter-wizard-wolfman had seen her face.

Before a full thought could form in her head, the great creature shoved past Hennisan, who still clutched a desperate hand to his face, and barreled into her room without invitation. 

Dal jumped back in shock, the door to her room slamming shut, directly into poor Hennisan's face. She swirled around to face Beasty, fully intending to question the creature as to his poor manners.

In the quick exchange, Dal had missed the basket that the wolf had clutched in his maw. Beasty set it down in front of her, before turning to sniff around her room.

If he was truly some kind of shifter, like Pernica, he seemed quite uninterested in her new face. He sniffed about the room, hardly casting her even a curious sidelong glance. Dal wasn't sure if she should be relieved or offended.

A heavenly scent wafted to her nose, and she could only suppose that it emanated from the basket that Beasty had carried in.

Dal watched him for a moment, before shrugging and letting hunger claim her attention.

She riffled through the basket, finding an entire loaf of bread, a fine cut of cheese, and enough dried meats that Dal could hole herself up in her room and refuse to come down for another day if she wished it. From the pounding in her head, she just might do that.

Beasty jumped onto her bed, and began circling in an oddly familiar display. It was sort of like when dogs looked like they were going to -

"Oh no, Beasty! Just what do you think you're doing?"

The beasts' eyes met hers, before completely ignoring her and plopping down in her bed as if he owned it.

"You've got to be kidding," Dal muttered.

She shuffled to the bed, sheet clutched about her shoulders, and made to push the large wolf off.

A low growl rumbled in the beasts chest.

Dal snatched her hand back.

"Fine, beasty. You can stay for a few moments while I eat," Dal emphasized, narrowing her eyes at the wolf for emphasis. 

The wolf lazily blinked at her in response, as if her words meant nothing to him.

Dal slumped on the floor and dragged the basket into her lap. She leaned back against the bed frame for support. She tore off a piece of bread and shoved a piece into her mouth.

A puff of air tickled the hair at her cheek. Dal looked up at the bed.

Two dark eyes peered down at her, glancing from her to the basket in her lap. Beasty had shuffled to the end of the bed without her noticing.

Dal rolled her eyes and tore off a hunk of bread for Beasty. She lobbed it over to him, and he snapped it out of the air.

"You know, this isn't so bad. I usually eat dinner by myself," Dal sighed, tearing a chunk of bread for her, and then tearing a chunk for Beasty.

Beasty cocked his head again in that same, goofy manner that he always did. 

"Beasty, you almost get away with looking angry and scary all the time, and then you look at me like that, you silly dog," Dal giggled, and lobbed him another piece of bread. 

Instead of catching it in the air, the piece of bread bounced off his forehead. Beasty made no move to get it, and instead quizzically stared at her with an amusing expression.

"Oh no, don't worry, Beasty. Everyone else still thinks you're terrifying. I even thought so when I first met you."

Beasty blinked, and stared at her emptily, before sniffing along the bedspread for the piece of bread he missed.

"I would go to the dinners here, only I'd stick out so much apart from everyone. I'm not of noble blood, and I don't have any other clothes than my soiled dress," Dal said, more to herself than the Beasty.

Dal studied him and searched for any sign of deeper intelligence or wisdom. She looked for some sign of acknowledgment of what she was saying - anything to show her that she wasn't crazy in her suspicions of the creature.

Beasty began chewing on his foot.

Dal rubbed her forehead. Maybe it was just the sickness from wearing her other face that was getting to her. 

She sifted through the bread and meats, tossing a few dried pieces of jerky to Beasty, who eagerly swallowed them in one or two bites. She would save the cheese for breakfast. It would buy her a little more time from making her debut at the castle in her soot-covered shoes and dress.

New tiredness and aches began to test her. She swayed underneath their persistence. 

Dal stood and climbed into bed, letting her tired body fall to the mattress as carelessly as Beasty had. She didn't care if the creature was in it. The thing could move over or get out. 

The wolf shifted to allow her to lay down. 

Dal closed her eyes, shivering underneath the thin sheet. She still felt like she was freezing, but she knew it was just the fever making her feel like this. She couldn't let herself crawl underneath the blankets, even if she wanted to.

She felt something wet tickle her forehead.

Dal's eyes sprung open, and she found herself face to face with Beasty. His damp nose sniffed along her face.

Beasty pulled back and shifted to lay across from her. He propped his head upon the pillows, putting him in the perfect position to stare directly at her face. 

She couldn't stop herself. The next moment her hand was grazing the wolf's nose, petting the soft fur there.

A low rumble came from the wolf's chest, similar to the growl she heard when he'd found her lost in the castle last night. 

Dal paused.

Beasty's eyes closed, but he didn't move, and the low rumble continued.

A sudden realization hit Dal, causing her to reach back out to Beasty's nose in glee.

Beasty wasn't growling in anger - he was purring! Err, rumbling. Dal couldn't quite place a name to the sound he made, but she could tell it was a little different from his growls of warning, like the ones he had given to Gerallto and Hennisan.

Dal chuckled. What would the annoyingly handsome Hound Keeper think of his prized dog, curled up in her bed and eager for a good scratching? 

She couldn't wait to pester him on it.