Disclaimer: I don't own the wonderful characters of Supernatural, or else I would totally have this scene in one of the episodes.
AN: This is the sixth of my vocab oneshots. Each are stand-alone. Enjoy!
Canines at Play
Crowley wasn't sure how he wound up in this situation. If he had been asked on a bad day, Crowley would have denied the request immediately; however, today had been a good day, relatively speaking, and the lower demon had caught him at a good time, so he assented to her appeal.
Consequently, Crowley was now taking care of a two week-old hellhound. The pup had a coat of black fur, paws that were really too large for its body, and entirely too much energy in the demon's opinion. In spite of this, the way that it stumbled around still engendered feelings of endearment from Crowley, but he would vehemently refute anyone's claims of this. The hound was to grow a whole lot bigger, yet at the moment the demon could hold it with two hands. The little beast had torn up parts of two armchairs and one couch, but Crowley wasn't worried; he wasn't fond of the person that owned them anyway. Besides the young hellhound's inclination to tear apart furniture, there was only one other trait that was offsetting: its eyes. Ruby red eyes were a feature that most people demurred. Fortunately, Crowley didn't have that problem, mostly because he wasn't human.
The hellhound whined as Crowley removed the pup from its place where it had been trying to chew on the ornate table. Crowley rolled his eyes as the whining augmented to keening. He hushed the puppy, but then remembered that this was yet another demon's house that he disliked. Crowley gazed toward the young hellhound and its literal puppy-eyed look. He weighed the pros and cons while the pup shuffled around waiting for a decision.
What the hell! Crowley was the King of Hell! He could do whatever he wanted. He gave a nod to the hellhound, acceding to its desires. The black ball of fur pounced on the leg of the tabled and started gnawing happily. Crowley smirked. Perhaps having a younger hellhound would prove to be helpful, while still providing amusement. His smirk faltered for a moment before growing even larger. Technically the hellhound wasn't his, but he would be able to easily fix the situation so that the young pup was his.
The puppy was a little terror right now to anyone but Crowley, yet based on the immensity of its paws, the hellhound would grow into an enormous nightmare. The hound accidently snagged its tooth on the low hanging tablecloth, and the sound of shattering glass filled the air. In the confines of his own mind where he couldn't be castigated, Crowley hoped that the pup retained some of its puppy-playfulness as it grew into a monstrosity.
