After Lambert had died, Yuri spent most of his time in the stables. Repede still cried from time to time, searching through the thick hay as though his father might've simply been hiding. He never found him; he never was. No matter how smart the pup seemed to be it was impossible to teach a dog not to continue hoping. That kind of loyalty was bred in their blood.
Eventually Yuri decided it was time to do what was necessary. He'd muck out the old hay so no scent remained. It was kinder that way. Repede actually seemed excited by the movement. He sniffed at the newly uncovered flagstone like he'd never seen such a thing before.
The sweeping sent up clouds of dust, making them both sneeze until Yuri finally tied a kerchief across his nose. The puppy skipped between him and the broom, initiating an elaborate dance as they cleaned. It was almost a ceremony. He interspersed sword techniques between strokes, banishing an invisible enemy, and Repede yipped in assent. Their dance ended with the broom's handle millimetres away from the startled expression of Flynn Schifo. Yuri paused before lowering his weapon.
"Cleaning up are you?" His friend said at length.
"It was time," Yuri grumbled, meeting Repede's curious eyes.
They filled the stall with fresh swath together and by the end of their task the puppy was slumbering softly. Yuri dropped beside him, hand moving to brush over the downy fur of his ruff, and Flynn didn't say anything about his clear decision to spend another night here.
"It was time."