Sid Capra and Nuno Chavez
PG-13 (Language) | Complete
I got the gift of… one liners and you’ve got the curse of curves…
Nuno sang as he threw his car in park as the song echoed from his phone after disconnecting the device from his radio. He had a standing date with a certain sexy satyr in the bed and breakfast. It was one of the best ways to spend his days off when he needed to blow off steam. It was also something he missed most about being with people who knew his furry little secret. Well, Zee knew, but the guy was a jerk. Either way, the man climbed out of the car and sauntered over to the bed and breakfast, still singing. He was in a ‘I am troubled and no one understands me’ kick with his music. Which was the reason for such timeless tunes of teenage angst such as Cute Is What We Aim For, Dashboard, Simple Plan, and Good Charlotte. His bluetooth headphones were askew, one on his ear and one resting just behind it, as he continued to sing along with the song. Not that Nuno was exactly a cherub, come to sing with a choir of angels. He could carry a tune and hit the notes. It was not the caterwauling he put his partner through while in the cruiser. It was also not like he was Brendon Urie.
The man walked into the building and immediately spotted Sid, who he gave a slow wink and a smirk that pulled at his dimple. He strolled over with his hands dancing up and down an invisible measure as he continued through the refrain. Of all the people on the island, Sid was probably the closest to how the guys were when they were kicking it at the barracks or Holmes’ place. Maybe it was his natural personality. Maybe it was the ease and comfort with himself he gained after almost two fucking thousand goddamned years of living. Either way, it was nice to have someone Nuno could let go with. Some parts were always reserved, despite what people thought. Generally, not here.
“I want someone provocative and talkative. But it's so hard when you're shallow as a shower. And from what I've heard with skin you'll win” Nuno took off his headphones and let them settle around his neck as he passed by to head into the office where he usually stripped down before going Sparky.
Sid had always made friends easily. That was why, despite only having had the keys to The Satyr for six months, he managed to have a standing date of any kind with anyone. Call it inborn charm. Call it charisma. Call it having no idea what personal space or a filter were. Whatever. It was one in the same probably. Sharp ears picked up the sound of Nuno’s singing from outside, prompting Sid to peek at the broken pocket watch—out of habit, mostly, it had been broken for ages—and then the actually functioning wall clock. That time already! Some days just flew by, didn’t they? He’d dressed for the occasion, standing date as it was, in a billowy pair of women’s harem pants (in forest green) and one of those chunky knit fisherman’s sweaters (blue and gray) everyone seemed to own in Norway. It was like you were born and they handed you a government issued cozy sweater. The whole outfit was pulled together with a pair of Ugg boots. Warm, good for mobility. That was the name of the game today.
A low whistle and waggling eyebrows returned the other man’s smirk, eyes following him from the B&B entrance to Sid’s office. “A serenade for me?” He swooned, hands laced over his heart. “What a delightful day.” Sid hopped onto the reservation desk, gangly legs swinging over the edge. “You’re going to spoil me. I’ll never leave this place.” Although, that was sort of the point, eh?
Nuno laughed halfway through the next line at Sid’s comment and blew him a kiss as he walked by. There was no way the other man could deny he had once been a bard. He was not exactly the most… inconspicuous of people. Especially when it came to dress. He had less shame and need to uphold whatever image the world was shoving down their throats. Not that Nuno could talk. When he was not in uniform, he often looked like the rejected member of some punk or grunge band with his skinny jeans and high tops or boots and long shirts. He tried, once, to keep up with modern fashion. It failed miserably as Nuno realized he really just did not give a flying fuck about what he wore, as long as it was comfortable.
He watched as Sid hopped up onto the desk and figured why not? Let’s make it a fucking show. He had a jacket and a hoodie to take off, after all. And while he had no issue stripping down in the lobby, he figured someone would. No need to cause Sid that grief if people were insulted by a bit of flesh. So, the man turned sharply on his heel to face Sid full and arched his brow. Finding his place in the song, (We all have teeth that can bite underneath. To where the reality grows. Yeah that's where mine go) Nuno continued to sing along as he pulled the zipper down and shrugged out of the heavy outer layers with less flair than utilitarian this was a lot easier in theory than practice. With his arms free, Nuno sauntered up with a forced swing in his hips and draped his jacket over the desk next to Sid.
“And from what I've heard with skin you'll win,” Nuno sang to him with his big brown eyes flashing the well-too practiced puppy eyes. His foot lightly stamped along to the chords picking up speed as he braced one arm on the desk. When the words started up again, Nuno’s shoulders rolled with the melody with his free hand and fingers dancing along to the words. He continued his little routine with eyes locked on Sid’s until the last line rolled out and a playful smirk tugged at his lips. Nuno pushed off and gave Sid a wink and a giggle.
“It’s why you keep me around, baby,” he chirped as he grabbed his jacket and walked around the desk to get undressed for real this time. “How have you been?”
Oh, and it wasn’t even his birthday!
Sid’s grin was pure, unadulterated glee as Nuno began his little strip tease. He had a real intense urge to sing along, though that was probably a poor idea for reasons such as a) he was not at all familiar with the song (though it was absolutely wonderful! He’d have to learn it later) and b) songs sung or played by Satyrs had some rather messy repercussions when care wasn’t taken. Ah magic. So tricky. So many consequences.
So he satiated the urge by dancing along a bit from his vantage point on the desk, head thrown back in laughter for no other reason than he was delighted by the scene playing out in front of him. But all good things must come to an end. Particularly when they happened in a Bed and Breakfast lobby. That was the nature of the beast. And well… when you were lodging a bonafide Lady in your establishment, it was probably best not to have naked people in the lobby.
“It is!” He agreed, legs swinging again. “I’ve been…” Hmm. We’re there words in the English language that could properly express how he’d been? “Magnifique, meraviglioso, kỳ dị. It’s been a real trip.”
“Dude, I don’t know how the fuck you’re still so high on life,” he mused as he walked into the room and shifted the door. Nuno didn’t close the door so much as he stepped to the other side of it while pulling the shirt over his head. He dug his hand into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the two balls they would be using. He wished he was big enough to use a normal tennis ball. But, alas, his natural shift was not exactly a border collie. He stepped out just long enough to hand Sid the balls and shook his head at the dude. He was ancient. Legitimately ancient. Yet, he was so fucking youthful. It was a trip to grasp that. So many people he knew now made him feel like an infant.
“The city has been nuts with sports and shit. You’d swear it was the end of the fucking world.” Nuno rolled his eyes dramatically and ducked back behind the door. “Shit, us mere mortals are not cool enough for that shit to happen in our lifetime.” He undid his belt and shimmied out of his jeans and folded it all nicely onto a chair. His socks tucked into his Vans and chained wallet secure in his jacket. “You ready, out there,” Nuno checked as he stood in his briefs. If Sid had any need for conversation, it was about to get real difficult to be an active participant.
It was true. He was absolutely ancient. There were ruins younger than him. But at the same time, there were plenty of beings out there more ancient than him. Some Vampires probably. Plenty of Fair Ones, for sure--his uncle, the previous owner of this establishment, had several hundred years on Sid, for instance--but the secret of living long (at least, as he’d found it) was to never be bored. Treat every day like an adventure. And remember that nothing is certain or permanent, but change is inevitable.
All that philosophy jazz. He might have made a really passable deity if he’d tried harder and hadn’t been so into the bard game for so long. “Life is great, man. Every day I get to wake up and get out of bed and do whatever I damn well please.” And what could be better than that? Besides, of course, getting do that forever?
“I feel like the world is kind of like rock n’ roll? You know, it’ll never die? Unless, you know, it gets blown up or an asteroid hits it. But otherwise, it’s probably just on some kind of cycle. Everything seems like it’s getting shittier, but maybe it’s just going through a rebirth process?” Things always got worse before they got better. Luckily for Sid, he was perfectly capable of waxing poetic all on his own. “Anyway, enough hippie bullshit, right? Ready when you are!”
Nuno sort of stared at Sid, while he stood there in the doorway in weird cat boxer briefs, as if the other man was a bit of a puzzle. It was weird to meet people who genuinely believed that happy-day horseshit. But Sid did. It was impressive. It also made Nuno wonder what was wrong with him that made the man so averse to looking at all the positive in the world. There had to be something about his mentality that skewed it all. It sure as hell was not trauma. It was literally impossible for Sid to not experience some truly shitty things in his lifetime. Maybe it was the mortality of everything. He had an end date. That was a gruesome factor.
“That or nuclear winter. Some sweet movies about that shit if you ever want to lose faith in humanity for a few hours,” Nuno replied with a smirk and shake of the head. His eyes traced over Sid’s form, felt the smirk grow. “Yeah, yeah,” he replied and ducked back behind the door. He stripped off the briefs and put them under his jeans so no one would walk in and know somewhere, someone was running around naked. With that, he focused on what he knew he looked like: the wiry, black and gray fur. The stumpy tail and legs. His boxy, short form. And he felt the shift happening. His bones popping painlessly as the world’s colors grew dull but the rest of his senses exploded. After a moment, everything was a lot taller.
Nuno scurried out of the room, nose to the ground and sniffing along the floor. His tail wagged as he moved and little legs pranced around as he investigated behind the desk, under the chairs, and finally to the front and looked up to Sid. He yipped and spun in a circle twice before sitting. He yipped two more times, tail still wagging away against the ground, and paws dancing in spot.
Sure, he’d seen a lot of bad things, but it was all about balance. For every bad thing, there were an equal--if not larger--number of good things. Certainly there was a lot of evil in the world, but there was good too. He was pretty sure there was a Mr. Rodgers quote along those lines, actually. Look for the helpers or something?
Also, he didn’t really seem to be programed for sadness or seriousness.
Sid laughed. “I never have, but you’re welcome to try,” he replied, “But if you’re suggesting a movie night, I’m not going to say no.” Any excuse to eat popcorn, really. “Nice boxers, by the way.” Cats! What would they put on underwear next? What wouldn’t they put on underwear, actually? That was the better question. Still, it almost made him want to acquiesce to wearing underwear himself.
He didn’t have much time to ponder that, however, because a moment later there was a tiny ball of fur scurrying about the foyer of The Sleepy Satyr. Sid jumped down from the counter excitedly. If he had a tail to wag back, he certainly would be. “Yes!” He stooped down to scratch at Nuno’s ears before hopping back up and leaping toward the door, holding it open for Nuno to go out first, because… Well. Dogs can’t open doors. “Into the outdoors!”
“We can set up movie night next time I have back to back days off,” Nuno promised. “Thanks. Got em at Target.” He smirked and shook his head again before going Sparky. He loved the feeling. It was something free and comfortable about it It felt natural, just like being a human. But there was a sense of wonder and joy. The rush of energy and information from all his senses. He could smell each person who had walked by the area recently. He could hear people outside walking down the street. And he knew that there was food somewhere he really wanted to get into. But right now, his mind was also aware they were about to go outside. And though Nuno was mostly a human, that was exciting for him.
He panted happily when Sid scratched behind his ears and popped to his feet when the man moved. Nuno’s little nails clicked on the floor as he followed Sid, looking up at him with his tail and hind legs wiggling with excitement. The dog burst out of the bed and breakfast and immediately was nose to the ground in the grass right outside. In the bushes. On the pavement. The walls. All the time, his little tail moving as fast as it could. Satisfied it had not been marked by anyone else, yes he did pee on that bush, thank-you, he went back over to Sid and sat like a good boy and waited.
“It’s a date,” Sid said, grinning and whipping out the finger guns for good measure. “Agh! Target! Why must everything good always come from Target?” It was such a haul to go into Atlantic City for things. Ah, well. He’d just keep on keeping on without crazy cat boxer briefs for the time being. It wasn’t the end of the world.
But anyway, there were other things to attend to. Like watching the sweet little dog version of Nuno scamper around, sniff the grounds of The Sleepy Satyr, relieve himself on a bush--oh the joys of peeing outdoors--and return to Sid, at attention, ready to play. Sid couldn’t help but laugh the whole time--dogs never ceased to amuse him, really--finally calming himself down when Nuno arrived at his feet once more. “Alright, bud. Here we go!” He wound his arm up and let the ball go, arching towards the vegetable patch. Good thing it wasn’t the growing season or the gardener would have some words for him.
When Sid wound up for the throw, Nuno bounced back to his feet and his back side wiggling and front paws dancing excitedly. He yipped with his eyes locked on the hand. The moment the ball left the satyr’s hand, Nuno was off like a shot. His little feet carrying him over the ground excitedly. He jumped over the small hedge as the ball bounced into the garden and grabbed it. He looked at the fence and cocked his head. It was a bit higher than he thought, so he got some momentum running around the outside of the fence before bounding back over and scurried back over to Sid. He dropped the ball at his feet and backed up a few steps and sat.
It was weird that Nuno was such a well-behaved dog all things considered. Though, part of it was the fact that Nuno knew how much of an ass dogs could be if misbehaved. And being a canine definitely played toward the genuine and kind side as much as the ferret played to Nuno’s mischievous side. He gave a whine that hinted toward, we need to do this more!
That was some fairly impressive jumping. Sid hadn’t made it purposely difficult, of course, but the yard was by nature full of obstacles. Definitely a good yard for a small dog with a lot of energy. Or a Satyr for that matter. Sid pranced around three yard in his Ugg boots as Nuno leaped over fences and hedges so he wasn’t always throwing from the same corner of the yard. Switch things up a bit, so neither of them got bored. Though really that was unlikely considering neither Satyrs nor dogs were particularly prone to boredom, but still. Random bouts of ADHD though perhaps.
Picking up the ball dropped at his feet, Sid nodded with a grin. He got the gist of that thought even if he couldn’t actually speak in barks and yips. Communication with animals was a Saturday hallmark. “Agreed. It’s about to get real cold though, I believe. We’ll have to work harder to stay warm.” Personally he preferred a warmer climate, taking his bard skills to places where snow was less common more often than not. He definitely did not prefer the cold. And yet here he was, on an island off the New Jersey coast where snow—unless someone lost grip on their weather powers or whatever again—was inevitable.
It was amazing to have someone able to talk with the animal side of him. It was the only downside of him being a shifter. There was no way to communicate, even with most other animals. He could kind of talk with other dogs, but most was information passed through body language and scent rather than a conversation. As a ferret, it was even less-so, as he mostly never interacted with another weasel. Sid, being a satyr, could converse. And it made this less like an awkward way to spend an afternoon and more like playing ball with the guys at the park. Only, he was not sure if Sid had ever played basketball and he was also not sure the guy would enjoy playing in the middle of a shit neighborhood like he used to.
Nuno cocked his head to the side and his tail continued to wag across the ground with his paws dancing. He barked and yipped a few times, followed by a low grumble. I’m used to the cold. Beats the heat anyday,” he relayed before resting back on his hind legs and whining again, this time begging for the ball to be thrown. When the ball was let loose again, Nuno took off like a rocket, running under the bounce’s arch and trying to catch it in the air before chasing it along the ground. His little muzzle made catching it like border collies difficult. Another reason he had such a small tennis ball. He scampered back over and nosed it back over to Sid and sat politely. He grumbled and whined a few times and tilted his head again. Anything new at the inn?
He definitely had played basketball and was pretty terrible at it, but that never stopped him from having a good time. As for shitty neighborhoods, he’d also seen his share of them in all shapes and forms, all over the world. Shitty was relative. Usually what someone called shitty Sid would dub vibrant. Lively. Or other such descriptors.
Sid shivered at the very idea that the cold--and it wasn’t even that bad today--could beat the heat. “You’re crazy. I mean, I don’t want to live in a desert, but this weather is not my idea of a good time.” Sure, he could put more clothes on, but he was a bigger fan of taking clothing off. He was a Satyr, after all. They were known for running around naked. But, alright. If it meant they got to have a few more standing fetch dates in the coming weeks, fine. He’d dig out a coat and scarf. When Nuno returned he stooped to pick up the ball again, turning it over in his hand for a moment. “Picked up a couple more guests. There’s this Witch woman who seems to have a problem with my wardrobe and a real Lady Fae with hair that is possibly more luxuriantly curly than mine, if you can believe it.” He was sort of proud of it. And with that, he released the ball again.
Something made Nuno feel nothing truly stopped Sid from having a good time if one was to be had. It was not in his DNA to simply ignore fun for something such as shame. It was endearing to Nuno. He envied that boldness. Not that the man was much better, but the competitive nature in him made enjoying what he was not entirely good at difficult. All the same, he was at least lucky to have grown up with a lot of kids his age, even if most of them were either somehow from a worse side of town than him or just plain assholes. He still had plenty of time to play sports such as street hockey or basketball in the small courtyard of their complex. Nuno sneezed at the comment about living in the desert. He distinctly remembered those months under the blazing sun, sweating like he did not know the human body could and trying his best to stop the men’s feet from rotting. I’ve had enough of deserts thanks, he implied with another snort and his paw rubbing against his snout.
Nuno’s paws danced when he watched the ball get turned over in Sid’s hands. He was vibrating with energy. So ready to chase again. A whine bubbled in his throat at the idea and his tail wagged faster on the ground. But he was a good boy and waited to hear about the news. He gave what could only be described as a doggie laugh when Sid admitted the new witch was not a fan of his wardrobe. It was fair. The man was eclectic to say the literal very least. His head cocked at the idea of an actual Lady living on the island. He gave a soft huff questioning why the fuck she was even in the area. It was New Jersey, after all. One of the least classy places Nuno had ever been. Which, considering he watched his buddy step into a literal shit hole once? That was saying something.
“I’ll bet you’ve had your fill,” Sid said, nodding sagely with an uncharacteristic air of seriousness. He had also seen his share of deserts--he didn’t speak Arabic or Farsi for shits and giggles--but his forays into the Middle East had been purely for pleasure, hitting up markets, hanging with the locals, immersing himself in the culture, singing songs of heroes long forgotten on street corners. That sort of thing.
“Hey now!” He knew what that laugh was for, and it was most definitely at his expense. “Maybe she just doesn’t understand that art is about breaking the rules.” And his fashion choices were definitely art. As for the Lady. “I have no idea what she’s doing here, but there’s been a lot of Fae magic flowing through town lately. Something’s definitely up.” There was that one day where the whole place felt like the Cold War had come back with a vengeance, and the whole town smelled like foxglove which was… Weird to say the least. He shrugged as if to say what can you do? and threw the ball again.
When Sid jokingly scolded Nuno, he tilted his head down and to the side with his big brown eyes turning sad and begging. Another whine bubbled in his throat. His tail, however, was wagging still and giving him away. He was never all that skilled at being the innocent one with the look of an angel. He always looked up to no good, even when he was not. Honestly, he felt that was a skill he needed to work with more often.
He he mentioned the fae magic, that got Nuno’s attention. He bounded back to all fours and tilted his head. He stretched out his front legs and wiggled a bit again. More than normal? Nuno had no way to tell when the types or flow of magic shifted. He was clueless in that realm. Hell, he was clueless in most cases aside from the world of shifting. There were times the man was still in awe that there were things like faes and dragons running around. When the ball was thrown. His attention flew from Sid’s face to the direction the ball went. His dog brain had, if possible, a worse attention span than his already diagnosed attention span issue. He tore off after the ball and chased it into a bush. After pawing at the ball and barking at it, insulting its mother, he got it free from the branches and came back over with some leaves and twigs in his coarse fur. He sat and dropped it to Sid’s feet and sed his paw to dislodge some of the branches. We keep having new people flowing in. It’s weird.
It was strange to scold a dog for very human things. Like laughing. Or feigning innocence. “Oh don’t think I’m not up to your tricks, sir. I invented sad eyes, alright?” And he demonstrated such a look for emphasis, green eyes extra wide, throwing in a pouty, trembling lower lip for good measure. That was how you got out of scrapes in countries where you hadn’t learned the language quite yet and couldn’t smooth talk your way out of things. That and whipping out a lute to play a magical tune. That also worked.
“Oh, so much more than normal. There’s only four of us on the island right now, unless you count the pixies.” And, well. Their magic was just different enough to not really count as far as that was concerned. “That’s a pretty low concentration, but it’s usually only solitary types that wander out of the Summerlands,” like himself, “so maybe not that unusual.” Solitary, by definition, suggested that they prefered to be alone. Or at least, unique. Sid watched with amusement as Nuno went after the ball, giving the poor unfortunate hedge a piece of his mind before returning. He stooped to pluck a couple twigs out of Nuno’s fur before picking the ball back up. “Oh for sure. Unless you’re also referring to me, in which case…” He paused, a broad grin on his face, “Yes, I am very weird.” And the ball was tossed again, this time away from that bush. It had taken enough of a beating.
You’re old enough Nuno replied with a rumble and a yip. He, however, saw Sid’s sad eyes and raised him a bubbling whine in his throat with his head tilted and ears pinned back. Nuno’s never worked. It was always done as a way to be humorous. The man had no false belief in his ability to beg or look sad. At the end of the day, even when Nuno was completely innocent, he looked like he was up to something. That and sad eyes would have only added to the whole getting his ass kicked thing. And as kinky as that sounded, it was not what cranked his wheel.
He… did not know if he would count the pixies. He was sure he knew a pixie. He probably spoke to one or ten. He was terrible at knowing who was what. Or. Actually. You know. Fucking caring. He cared about what Sid was. Because Sid was his friend and directly linked to a variable amount of Nuno’s inner balance or what the fuck ever his therapist said. He cocked his head at the word Summerlands. That was something he had not heard before, and he made a curious chirping noise to say as much.
After informing the bush it’s mother had termites, he returned triumphantly. His tail wagged as Sid helped with the twigs stuck haphazardly into his fur. At his comment, Nuno nuzzled at his hand and gave a few kisses before gnawing lightly and playfully. He released the fingers and rubbed his head against Sid’s hand. A good weird, he insisted. Though he had actually meant the people arriving. He was well acquainted with the weird of Sid. It was a wonderful thing. The small dog gave a full-body shiver before butting his head against his friend’s hand
Sid scoffed indignantly. “Rude! I might be old, but I’m still beautiful.” He primped at his wild mane of curls for emphasis. It was true though, Nuno the dog pulled sad puppy eyes off much better than Nuno the man. It was just the way of things. Puppy eyes, as the name suggested, were best left to… Well. Puppies.
“Oh right. Uh, Summerlands are the Fair Folk homelands. It’s uh…” He wasn’t honestly sure how to describe it. He’d never lived there for long stretches of time. Usually just stopped through on the way to somewhere else. It was a place teeming with power though. Concentrated. For him it was the sort of place to stop and reup and recuperate between centuries, but not somewhere he’d like to live. “Not my cup of tea,” he concluded.
“Better be,” Sid said, laughing as he scratched at Nuno’s ears. “I don’t think any of those weirdos showing up lately can outweird my weird, but I guess they’re a little weird.”
Nuno dropped the sad face to yip and wag his tail. It was true. Sid was a very lovely face to look at. The whole never aging thing worked to his advantage, after all. When Nuno got to be Sid’s age? Well. He wouldn’t exist because fungi and microbes would have stripped the bones bare and broken down what organic material they needed. He’s be regurgitated shit. Over and over. Still sexier than the current rendition.
He sat and absorbed the information about the where the Fair Folk lived. He figured it was important to know the basics. Maybe. Knowledge was power, right? Even if it was hard not to laugh at the fact that there was, indeed, a land of fairies. That was too easy. And he liked Sid far too much to make that kind of joke. Not a fan of home, his cocked head questioned. He could get behind that. he , in fact, hated his hometown. And it physically pained him to know his family lived there still.
Nuno used his paw to leverage himself up just enough to catch the tip of Sid’s nose for a quick lick. He dropped back down and rolled over onto his stomach and wriggled a bit. He looked up with a happy groan and moved some more with a whine. It’s getting cold, he complained while his eyes begged for a scratch.
Sid hated thinking about what would happen to those people he loved with finite lifespans. It was terribly sad and he didn’t do sad well. Aside from, of course, sad puppy eyes. It was easier to think about when accompanied with the opening song to the Lion King. The Ciiiiiiiiiircle of Life made the life cycles of things with short lifespans almost poetic.
“Oh, no, I like my home just fine,” Sid replied shaking his head. “But I wasn’t born in the Summerlands. It’s too limiting for Satyrs. We mostly visit.” And by limiting, he meant boring. Some types of Fae were so uptight. Satyrs were not meant for polite society.
Laughing at the lick at his nose, Sid obliged Nuno’s plea for belly rubs. “Better get you back inside again. Sit you in front of the fire or something.” Truth be told, his fingers were getting a bit chilly, but at least he didn’t have real toes to worry about. Hooves didn’t get cold quite in the same way toes did, even when he glamoured himself some normal looking legs and feet. “Come on!” He picked up the ball and stood back up, bounding toward the door to the Satyr.
Prissy bitches, Nuno snuffled and gave a small, full-body shake. Up here is way more fun. Not that he knew for sure. But he was biased and simply unwilling to believe so many of the faes and whatever else lived there came to the surface to stay if it was not better. No one left their home willingly to live somewhere that sucked more just because they could. Well. Maybe people did that. Nuno didn’t know. He was not fucking stupid like that.
He gave out a low groan when he got his belly rubs and his tongue lolled out of his mouth. A steady whump. whump. whump. echoed as his tail hit the ground over and over. He let out a small woof in agreement that it was time to get inside, but he stayed on his back just a bit longer to enjoy the feeling. But he could get more inside, and his poor little pads would not be biting at him. When Sid called him, Nuno gave a wriggle and hopped onto his feet to follow him back inside, eyes glued to the ball, still, as they went.