happy accident [Felicite]

[rodneyh]

THE POOR DOG, IN LIFE THE FIRMEST FRIEND. THE FIRST TO WELCOME, FOREMOST TO DEFEND. WORDS ✽ 379

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TAGS ✽

Felicite

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NOTES ✽

Poor girl that dog is huge unu

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✽» It was early afternoon, the sun beating down on the townspeople with its harsh, sweaty heat, and Rodney felt... marvelous. Freshly showered after a morning in the fields, he was refreshed. His hair, still wet, was beginning to puff up at odd angles with dryness. His muscles ached dully, but it was a comfortable sort of soreness, one that told him he did a good job today. As he made his way into the street, his clothes just started to stick to his skin. And Mia, who padded faithfully beside him, just began to pant. Typically, he would slide on her leash once they got into town, tethering the dog to him so she couldn't weave through the bustling crowd of errand-runners. If she ever did get loose, it would be easy to find her; most likely, she'd be snatching goods out of the shops, hoping for a new playmate to chase after her.

✽» Today, however, Rodney was too busy smiling at the clouds and running through his mental shopping list. Milk, eggs, cheese, flour... He bit his lip idly, then added honey, because he could never have too much of a good thing. Maybe he could "accidentally" bake too much, and bring cake to his neighbors--sweets were a surefire way to win them over!

✽»"I'll even put some honey on your biscuits, if you want," he suggested to Mia, scooting out of a very hurried shopper's way. When he looked down to get the pooch's opinion, his heart skipped a beat--he'd lost her. "Mia--?" His eyes scanned the crowd, suddenly panicked. His pace quickened, but his nerves were quickly soothed; honestly, it was hard to miss an animal half as tall as a person barreling through the crowd with her tongue hanging out.

✽» "Hey, wait up!" he called, but Mia was enjoying herself way too much to acknowledge him. It was simple for her to weave between the pedestrians--people got right out of her way--but Rodney found himself muttering "Whoops, sorry" and "S'cuse me" with every bound. His effort was frustratingly futile, however, because he lost sight of his pet within seconds. Rodney began to feel significantly less marvelous as he realized he'd just let a tank of furry destruction loose through the streets of the business district.
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[felicite]

[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true] NOTES: wow this is terrible, i'm super sorry ID;; WORDS: 473 TAG: rodney! ♡ CREDIT: sky of btn!

“Whew!” Felicite exhales as she steps out of her shop and into the hot, early afternoon sun, already reaching to pull the hair off of her neck for a moment. She drops it with a quiet huff, turning peak through the open door of the shop, calling, “I’ll be back soon, Kanin!” to the employee she’s left working the register for as long as she's gone. The door shuts with a thunk, and Felicite digs her phone from her purse, checking the list of supplies she needs from town. "Okay..." She murmurs, meandering in the direction of the general store, eyes glued to the screen of her phone as she walks. The walk there is short but busy, many townspeople and shopkeepers running out and about today. Felicite reaches the general store in one piece, however, grabs the tool she needs off the shelf (they'd broken their spare this morning, though Felicite reasons that it'd actually been a long time coming), and pays for it with a stunning smile and bright disposition. She leaves with a skip in her step, plastic bag swinging from her arm, and nearly lets out a groan of frustration at being hit with the heat once more. Felicite just doesn't like the sweltering feeling of the sun on her neck. She doesn't mind when it's warm, loves springtime and the beginnings of fall, but summers in Sepalum are always rough for her, since she goes between freezing her butt off in her air-conditioned store to sweating like a pig the moment the steps outside. She's about to just make her walk back to the jewelry shop as quick as possible when she spots an ice cream vendor out of the corner of her eye. Grinning, she waltzes over to the freezer and purchases a vanilla ice cream cone. The first taste is like heaven on earth; Felicite resolves to eat the whole thing before she goes back to the store, lest Kanin want one and not be able to get one, and walks a slow few paces forward, planning to find a bench to sit on around the square. Before she can reach one, however, a huge, furry rocket bounds from the crowd and runs into her, paws on her shoulders. She hits the ground with a shriek, her ice cream cone flying out of her hand and landing on the ground beside her. The furry blur -- a dog -- licks her face, its tail wagging excitedly at making what it assumes might be a new friend. Well! Felicite's got news for the beast. "Ugh!" She grunts, pushing at the dog with no avail. Some people have stopped to watch the ordeal play out, but no one seems to be offering to help her. How embarrassing.

[rodneyh]

THE POOR DOG, IN LIFE THE FIRMEST FRIEND. THE FIRST TO WELCOME, FOREMOST TO DEFEND. WORDS ✽ 451

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TAGS ✽

Felicite

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NOTES ✽

none

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✽» When he lost all eyes on Mia, what little logic Rodney had puffed out like a candle. In an instant, his mind was spinning and his legs were searing with pure instinct. His gentle hands formed a firm barrier around him--catching crowdspeople and propelling them away before they could get too far into his space. An eternity later, the comfortably familiar movement of a tail waving through the air caught his eye. "Mia!" he scolded, approaching. The dog looked over her shoulder, politely acknowledging her owner, and it was then that Rodney spotted a face half-obscured by his loyal companion's wide, stupid head. There was a person there, getting her chest smooshed by the weight of the affectionate pooch. And, by the look of her slobber-coated face, she wasn't as eager to be acquainted with Mia as the canine thought.

✽» As he closed in on his dog and her poor victim, he realized that he'd puffed himself up in the process of the chase. Rodney was a burly guy, and he could make himself look downright beastly if he hunched his shoulders and inflated his chest--often, he did this by accident. He puffed a quick breath out through his nose, letting his stature sink back to its natural, less intimidating state, and fished the leash out of his pocket.

✽» "What do you think you're doing?" he addressed Mia, who was entertained again by licking the girl's face. Lucky for her, the dog paused in its game to peer at Rodney. "Yeah, you, Mia!" He looped the leash around the Great Dane's neck with quick hands and gave it a powerful yank. It would have taken him a few more tugs to drag Mia completely off of her target, but--lucky for him--she wasn't utterly disobedient. She scrambled off of the fallen girl, settling herself smugly beside her master.

✽» Once he was done playing puppy commander, Rodney's eyes softened. "Hey, are you alright? Jeez, she didn't hurt you, did she? I swear, she doesn't mean any harm, it's not our fault--I mean--It isn't yours either! Um..." His mouth hung halfway open as he tried not to ramble. What he really wanted was to help this poor lady up, brush the gravel off her elbows for her, and make a thousand promises that: a) it would never happen again, and b) he would make it up to her in every way he could. But instead he kept two hands wrapped around Mia's leash, ready to tear her away again if need be--that was probably more comforting for the girl at the moment. Rodney scrunched his eyebrows together, praying that he hadn't gotten the stranger hurt or frightened her too badly. "Can you get up alright?"[atrb= border,0,true]

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[felicite]

[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true] NOTES: 8) WORDS: 542 TAG: rodney! ♡ CREDIT: sky of btn!

The distant call of “Mia!” is the only thing Felicite processes over the assault on her face, the heavy dog’s paws pressed into her chest and killing her. (Perhaps that’s a bit of an overreaction, but Felicite is not fond of being crushed by a Great Dane -- who, coincidentally, turns to look in the general direction that the exclamation of her name came from.) Beneath the dog, Felicite catches sight of a barrel-chested man of an intimidating size looming over the dog, talking to her like a disappointed father scolding his child. Felicite guesses that he’s the owner of this beast, and promptly decides that he deserves to have someone or something ruin his weekend for letting the dog off her leash. Before Felicite can even getting anything out of her open mouth, the dog dives back in and licks over her face, causing Felicite to wrinkle her nose and grunt underneath her. “Stop it!” She exclaims, placing her hands over the dog’s muzzle and pushing her face away so she can breathe without being coated in dog slobber. Felicite hears a distant, “What do you think you’re doing?” and after what feels like too many seconds, the dog is finally pulled off of her. Felicite takes a few staggering breaths and sits up, clutching one hand to her chest while she threads the other through her hair, surely dirtied from the ground. The man, who’s face she hasn’t yet properly looked at, stammers through what sounds like is supposed to be an apology -- though it falls incredibly short of one -- and holds the dog close to him as he trails off. “I’m fine,” Felicite snaps, shaking any leftover dirt from her hair by flipping it a few times. “You should really keep that dog on a leash, I -- ” she cuts herself off as she peers up at him, sunlight striking his features at just the right angle, shadowing just beneath his handsome jaw. He’s -- certainly a sight, now that she’s looked at him, all broad-shouldered and strong, and suddenly -- though she risks sounding shallow -- she isn’t all that angry. “I mean -- it’s okay, no harm done,” she rectifies, laughing dumbly. “Dogs will be...dogs...” she tries, casting what she hopes is a friendly glance to the canine. “Um, yeah, I think so,” Felicite answers to his next question, standing up on shaky legs and brushing herself off, her shopping bag and purse hanging loosely from her forearm. “She startled me,” Felicite tells him, breathing a halfhearted chuckle. “I’m not used to being, um, tackled,” she says, purposefully avoiding using the word “attacked” lest she sound like she’s not a dog person. (Which...is actually true. Dogs are certainly not her favorite creatures on the earth, at least.) Her eyes trail to the ice cream on the ground, completely ruined, and she lets out a frazzled huff, resisting the urge to roll her eyes and stomp her feet and call the dog a menace (which is also true). “I guess eating the rest of that ice cream is out of the question...” she says, attempting to play it off like she isn’t angry, even if she could literally kick the dog and not feel the slightest bit bad about it.