"Martin sighed softly before clasping his hands behind his back, perusing his mind for a question Daud might actually give him a straight answer to. "Some of our Overseers have been reporting that there are hounds vanishing from the streets, whether tame or not. One or two have reported seeing men in whalers’ uniforms with them before they just…disappeared. Only your men fit those descriptions".
At that, a faint smirk overtook the Whaler leader’s face, before vanishing as soon as it appeared. Instead of answer, he stood straight, motioning to Martin. "Strange you should ask that, when I’ve never seen you with a hound yourself, Overseer. Isn’t it almost a rule for all Overseers to have one at their side? Are you just not an animal person?"
The Overseer’s body tensed slightly, and he smiled thinly, trying his best to remain calm. Daud didn’t know about his experience with wolfhounds, nor did he know about what had happened to his first and only one. It wasn’t fair to lose his temper on innocent questions. At least, they seemed as such. "My hound is dead. Now, about the question I asked".
Watching Martin for a long, silent time, Daud shrugged. "Yes, my men have been saving the wolfhounds from the streets, from the Abbey. Retraining them. It’s almost a heresy how your men have treated these poor beasts. We keep them here, in a nearby building. I’d offer to show you, but I’d rather not have to clean up the mess they’d leave of you. We’ve also started breeding some of them, so they’re even more protective. You understand".
---
"Leaning against the wall next to the door, Daud crossed his arms over his chest and watched as Martin knelt down, proffering a hand to one of the closer pups, who cautiously approached him and sniffed at the glove he wore. Not recognising Overseers as a threat just yet, the pup licked at his hand and moved forward, panting happily at the attention it received when Martin’s hand scratched behind its ear.
After a few moments, a second pup approached Martin, followed by a third, and a fourth, before the Overseer was surrounded by wriggling little wolfhounds. His calm, priestly demeanor had quickly melted into a child-like bliss, a wide smile on his lips and in his eyes, hands moving over each pup. A few older wolfhounds stalked in to see what the commotion was, before approaching Martin as sniffing him, deeming him safe, and licked his face. Martin laughed, running his hands along the larger hounds’ heads. A young wolfhound skittered in and practically flung itself at Martin, tackling him and pushing him to the ground, licking his face eagerly.
After ten minutes had passed, the room was filled with nearly two dozen pups and almost a dozen adult wolfhounds, all eagerly crowding around Martin. The Overseer couldn’t even manage to sit up without another hound tackling him back down, each dog assaulting him with their long tongues, whether licking his hands or face.
Martin couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually been this happy, and Daud couldn’t help but smile at the man’s clear joy. He chuckled softly, before quietly easing out of the door to leave the Overseer alone with the hounds, shutting it behind him.
It didn’t bother him that Martin would return every now and then just to play with him".
(c)
At that, a faint smirk overtook the Whaler leader’s face, before vanishing as soon as it appeared. Instead of answer, he stood straight, motioning to Martin. "Strange you should ask that, when I’ve never seen you with a hound yourself, Overseer. Isn’t it almost a rule for all Overseers to have one at their side? Are you just not an animal person?"
The Overseer’s body tensed slightly, and he smiled thinly, trying his best to remain calm. Daud didn’t know about his experience with wolfhounds, nor did he know about what had happened to his first and only one. It wasn’t fair to lose his temper on innocent questions. At least, they seemed as such. "My hound is dead. Now, about the question I asked".
Watching Martin for a long, silent time, Daud shrugged. "Yes, my men have been saving the wolfhounds from the streets, from the Abbey. Retraining them. It’s almost a heresy how your men have treated these poor beasts. We keep them here, in a nearby building. I’d offer to show you, but I’d rather not have to clean up the mess they’d leave of you. We’ve also started breeding some of them, so they’re even more protective. You understand".
---
"Leaning against the wall next to the door, Daud crossed his arms over his chest and watched as Martin knelt down, proffering a hand to one of the closer pups, who cautiously approached him and sniffed at the glove he wore. Not recognising Overseers as a threat just yet, the pup licked at his hand and moved forward, panting happily at the attention it received when Martin’s hand scratched behind its ear.
After a few moments, a second pup approached Martin, followed by a third, and a fourth, before the Overseer was surrounded by wriggling little wolfhounds. His calm, priestly demeanor had quickly melted into a child-like bliss, a wide smile on his lips and in his eyes, hands moving over each pup. A few older wolfhounds stalked in to see what the commotion was, before approaching Martin as sniffing him, deeming him safe, and licked his face. Martin laughed, running his hands along the larger hounds’ heads. A young wolfhound skittered in and practically flung itself at Martin, tackling him and pushing him to the ground, licking his face eagerly.
After ten minutes had passed, the room was filled with nearly two dozen pups and almost a dozen adult wolfhounds, all eagerly crowding around Martin. The Overseer couldn’t even manage to sit up without another hound tackling him back down, each dog assaulting him with their long tongues, whether licking his hands or face.
Martin couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually been this happy, and Daud couldn’t help but smile at the man’s clear joy. He chuckled softly, before quietly easing out of the door to leave the Overseer alone with the hounds, shutting it behind him.
It didn’t bother him that Martin would return every now and then just to play with him".
(c)