It was so damn hard to get a second date when the phrase 'wolfed down her food' could be applied all too literally to the first one, Angua reflected.
The dating scene had never been much fun for werewolves. There would be the kind of people who found out and ran a mile1, and she could handle those. But what was worse were the people who found out and turned up at the date with a studded collar and a bag of dog biscuits, making jokes about doggy-style. The best cure for those kinds of people, Angua had found, was a good roundhouse kick2, followed by carefully relieving them of their dog biscuits. PLT struck at the worst times sometimes.
People in Ankh-Morpork were tough though. Of course, people in Uberwald were tough too. The living had to be, to survive with so many undead around3. Of course, many of them imbibed vast quantities of suspicious alcohol to deal with life in Uberwald. Not, as you might think, because of the constant risk of having their blood drained, but because the vampires there dressed so snappily that the self-esteem of those nearby plummeted. This had led to more than one incident involving someone yelling 'I give up!' and running, naked, down the street. In some towns an evening wouldn't be complete without a man turning up naked at a bar and ordering a beer and a pair of trousers. While vampires supposedly have a natural tendency towards scantily-clad women, this apparently doesn't extend to middle-aged shoemakers with a distrustful attitude towards bathing.
But Morporkians were a different kind of tough. The kind of tough that welcomed danger into its folds, provided danger was willing to pay extortionate prices for cheap souvenirs.
Angua reached the front door to Mrs. Cake's residence, which had been left open for her. On the table just inside were a pack of dog biscuits with a note saying 'sorry about the proposal – Mrs. Cake'. The advantages of living with a kind clairvoyant were limitless.
She trudged up to her room, sprawling on the bed4.
It had made sense. Proposing to her had made sense. No big speech, not even an 'I love you', just a simple, undeniable fact.
It would have made sense for her to accept, she knew that. But with Carrot it was all so factual. Maybe in a few years he'd want to have children, because that was what you were supposed to do. She wasn't sure she could do that. She'd heard stories, rumours, of werewolves and humans and their offspring. There were no children. Only pups. She couldn't do that to him.
She wondered idly whether he had wanted to marry her. Had he simply been counting down the days until the average couple got married, and proposed to her then?
She shook her head5. Thinking like that wasn't going to get her anywhere. He had proposed to her. He wouldn't have done that if he hadn't wanted to marry her.
Maybe she should have accepted. He was nice, he was kind, he treated her well, even at That Time Of The Month when her main forms of affection were licking and peeing. Although with the number of squeaky toys she had lying around in the bedroom, some of them had developed other uses.
The younger dwarfs had begun to describe 'hip' people as 'street'. Carrot was more 'country lane' than 'street' (with maybe a bit of 'pavement' mixed in), but he got on with people. All kinds of people. Once she had come back to find him having dinner with priests from twelve different religions, and nobody was smiting anybody. There was a bit of disagreement over which kind of tea to have, but nobody condemned anybody else to a screaming eternity of being vomited on by small children while listening to the sound of nails on a chalkboard6.
He got on with everyone, and when part of you was a territorial pack animal whose relationship could be ruined by marking what you saw as 'your territory' in the normal way, things got difficult.
Angua wondered what Carrot was doing now. She couldn't imagine him being distraught at her lack of response. Most likely he had got on with his job.
She curled up and tried to sleep.
The table was covered in paper. This was, Cheery decided, a good thing. There were notes, pictures of Angua, blueprints and schematics, and, for some reason, an incredibly detailed drawing of a duck. It may have been suffering from some kind of mallard-y, Cheery thought. Given how much beer she and Carrot were getting through, it was probably good to have a bird with experience with bills nearby.
Proposals had to be done RIGHT. Carrot hadn't even tried to plan it around that time of the month for Angua, and it was sheer luck that he had avoided the PLT. Not much thought seemed to have gone into it, apart from the ring. The diamond in it, Carrot had made sure, had come from an Uberwaldean diamond mine near Angua's home. The gold was from his own mine. It was studded with tiny moonstones around the band. Cheery had to admit, that was a very nice touch.
When they had arrived at The Bucket, without any niceties, she had grabbed Carrot by the shoulders7 and said to him "Why" shake "would" shake "you" shake "propose" shake "at" shake "work?!".
He had looked startled by this. "Well," he said. "She was there. I was there. We met there. Work's important."
"But it was so… impersonal," said Cheery.
"Where would you suggest I propose?" asked Carrot with a look of bemusement.
"Where have you two gone on dates? Where was your first one? Or your most memorable one?" Cheery asked.
"I took her to the dwarf bread museum" said Carrot.
Cheery tilted her head back and, staring at the ceiling, prayed for mercy from any god who would listen8.
"You took her to the dwarf bread museum" she repeated, eyes closed.
"I also took her on a walk along Amper Sands, you know, by the Ankh," Carrot said, desperately trying to redeem himself.
"Right. Okay, we can work with that. Nice river walk, probably the least fragrant section of the river. Quiet. Well done. So, you go down to Amper Sands," she said, pointing with her pencil at the map spread across half the table.
"When?"
"I don't know, when do you want to propose?!" Cheery said. "Sometime in the evening. Not around full moon time."
The conversation went on like this for three more hours, Cheery's exasperation reaching maximum levels by the end of it. Six beers later, and much quaffing, and she was nearly in tears.
But they had a plan.
1 Well, not a mile. Nobody in Ankh-Morpork was keen enough on exercise for that. They ran a few yards, found a nice bar and started the quaffing.
2 In Ankh-Morpork, the phrase 'roundhouse kick' could mean either a painful connection between a foot and, most commonly, some Very Sensitive Regions, or, confusingly, a kind of cocktail containing scumble. Many a new barman would become confused when asked for a Roundhouse Kick and shortly afterwards may find themselves with a serious shortage of usable or connected limbs courtesy of the clientele.
3 The Uberwaldeans are a people with a natural tendency, bred through generations, to barricade doors and windows at night. Some undoubtedly well-meaning scientists from Ankh-Morpork had taken them out of their natural habitat and been amazed as they set up a barricade in the laboratory, in spite of no imminent danger, from a lab table, a large number of bottled specimens and one petri dish balanced neatly on top. Although the scientist could probably have dismantled the barricade, that would have involved hard physical labour, which was To Be Avoided At All Costs. They lived out the remainder of their days in that laboratory, and years later their notes were uncovered by curious archaeologists.
4 Any dog owner will know the so-called 'dog sprawl', the ability to take up a whole bed, including firmly planting their rear end on the face of anyone lying on it, before farting profusely onto the aforementioned face with an innocent expression. As a werewolf, Angua had mastered this in early childhood, farting included.
5 Again, dog owners will be familiar with the kind of shaking. That kind of shaking which dogs do when they come into the house, sopping wet, and need to get dry as near to the curtains as possible.
6 Some religions in Ankh-Morpork had a very specific idea of hell, for instance, 'being stuck on a coach next to a man partial to beans for ever more'.
7 She had had to wait until he had sat down for this, and then stood on a chair herself. But it was for the drama so it was important.
8 Unfortunately, at this time the gods were all arguing over who had the best hair and were happily oblivious to the world of mortals. A sudden rain of hair gel over the Circle Sea as a consequence of this argument went unnoticed except for by a very startled and, a moment later, very sticky fish.