Morning light poured in through the low window at the far wall a few short hours later. It was golden and rainbow all at the same time from where it reflected through droplets of water that clung to the upper window frame. Bellissima opened her warm amber eyes to the sight and had to wonder for a moment why she wasn't in the nursery. Then it came back to her why she was here and what had happened last night and yesterday. She whimpered faintly at the memory of 's harsh words to her. Casanova looked up at her with bleary blue eyes and for a moment seemed quite confused himself, but soon he also remembered what had happened to the young spaniel beside him.

"It's alvight Felicia, you don't have to go back yet if you don't vant to." He said to her as she stood up and stretched her stiff legs. She was a bit sore around her joints from running in the cold and rain the night before, but moving around helped. A growl filled the room, though, not one of a dog. Well from a dog yes, but not the kind made when angry. The kind of growl a stomach makes when it's hungry, very hungry.

Casanova smirked and stood stretching his own long limbs out and padded over to stand next to her. In the morning light his blond fur glistened and shined like the Golden Fleece itself. The stark white of his paws came into full clarity and the light tan appeared as honey. She hadn't realized she was staring until he turned back to face her. He was standing at the base of the 'stairs' up to the window.

"Coming Felicia? I know a place vhere we can get some breakvast." He asked turning his head to the side slightly. She smiled and bounded up to his side and allowed herself to be helped up the large crates and out the window into the morning. There was a faint early mist still stubbornly clinging to the ground where water rose up from the puddles. He lead her from the run down alleys of the south side and back up to east main street. Here many shops and restaurants lined the roads and it was quite as not many humans were out yet.

"Now let's see Let's see..." Casanova said as he looked from shop to shop along the main road. He seemed to be looking for something in particular. They stopped at the corner and looked both ways before crossing the street with her. Funny, that was something Master had taught her to do as well. Why would a street dog know to look both ways before crossing the street?

"Heeyyyy, you like pfannkuchen?" He asked sitting down and looking to a shop on the alley way across the street. It was a pretty little place, done in white with a red maple leaf in the window.

"P-pan-ku-hen?" She tried to repeat the strange pronunciation. She'd never heard that word before.

"Pancakes! Crepes, vhatever you vant to call them. Canada makes the best in all of Italy shartz!" He said to her with his tongue lolling out of his mouth at the thought. Warm fluffy sweet pancakes, and a touch real maple syrup, Canada knew best when it came to breakfast.

"I love-a pancakes, Vee!" She often made that same sound that her Ita-vee made when she was excited about something. It was a habit she picked up from living with them for two years now.

"Then let's go, around the back Felicia, Canada doesn't open the door this early." He said as he checked the street again before prancing across with Bellissima on his heels. The back of the shop had a wide door propped open letting the early August breeze in. The smell of butter and sugar and batter filled her nose as Casanova walked up to the door, sat down very neatly, and gave a bark.

Not a minute later a blond head popped around the corner of the door and looked down at us with a smile. He had a strange little twisting curl that hung in front of his face and a lopsided hat covering more of his hair.

"Morning Jasper. Bring a friend for breakfast? You are so good about making sure all the good dogs are safe and taken care of." He said before turning back inside. He returned not a minute later with a pair of old metal dishes and set them down before the pair. It was pancakes alright, torn up into bits with a touch of syrup and bits of ham and egg thrown in as well. All extras that were too small to plate probably. Bellissima by passed her normal food manners and dug right in.

Prussia hadn't fed her the night he put her out in the yard, so she hadn't eaten in at least twenty four hours, something she was not used to. Casanova smiled at the little dog next to him and dug into his own meal. He was glad he's stayed out late the night before, otherwise he wouldn't have heard her cries and come to her rescue. He never did like those pack alley dogs, she had just given him a reason to finally teach them a lesson.

With breakfast over and the bowls left inside the door by Casanova, they left to wander the town. Bellissima was still reluctant to go home to Prussia, and asked if she could wait till he Ita-vee was about to return. He had no issues with this. He liked this little spaniel. She was spunky and bright, if somewhat easily scared, he felt he had to protect her.

"What's it like being a street dog? I've only ever heard stories from Kiku, since he came from the pound as a puppy, but he doesn't really talk about it." She asked at random as they strolled down park avenue towards the lake. Casanova paused in his easy trot and turned his head to look down at her. His expression which had been light and somewhat cheerful all morning suddenly turned dark and very serious.

" It's not fun Felicia I can tell you that. You friend vas lucky to come out of the pound, not many dogs go in there and come out again to tell to the talel. It's a hard life, a day to day fight. But some of us find vays to get by vithout turning into the malicious creatures most people make us out to be." He said turning back to the sidewalk ahead and continuing on their way. She followed after him a little quieter than before, and quickly changed the subject of conversation to something else, something less dark. She talked about her family, and what little she remembered of her early life as a puppy in the pet shop. She had a sister somewhere she knew. She describe first coming to the house and her near constant exploration afterwards. Apparently he knew the place, having wandered around that part of town before.

In turn he told her what he remembered. As it were he had suffered a blow to the head as a pup and couldn't remember his parents or if he had ever had a family before being a street dog. And yet he looked like a well bred shephard. All he remembered was a strange white dog coming to his rescue and raising him to live a life on the streets. That dog had called himself Gilbert, an albino shephard. Sadly he had been taken to the pound almost three months ago now, and hadn't been seen again.

"I'm sorry Casanova. But he sounds like a such a nice dog, I bet someone took him home, like took Kiku home." She said, hoping to cheer him up. They sat by the lake now, watching ducks swim by and children playing along its banks with parents close by to watch. He smiled down at her and gave a gentle lick to her long ear, just catching that special little curl. She loved having the curl petted and stroked, it always made her feel so good.

"Thank you Felicia, I hope so too." He said with a soft smile. And they settled down to watch the humans around them. At one point a boy threw a small red ball their way, and Casanova brought it back to him, when the child threw the ball again, Bellissima caught on and retrieved it again, bringing it back to the small brown haired child. They continued in this fashion for awhile, playing fetch. Casanova fell into the game as if he had done it a hundred times before and never missed a beat. He seemed so tame, so, house pet. Which seemed a bit strange to Bellissima, but she didn't dwell on it.

Eventually the child was called away by his mother and the two dogs found the light fading from the sky. Casanova wanted to show her the best of street life, so he took her back to main street, and told her to stick close as they wove in and out of peoples feet. She was curious as to where he was taking her, and so followed with an excited skip in her bounding steps.

He lead her past Mr. Canada's little breakfast house which was dark in its after hours. Not far down the street, was another building, bright with candle light and gentle music drifting from its open glass door. The smell of roses and wine drifted to her nose and a sign over head read 'Little France'. Again she was lead around back, and found herself in a dark but well kept alley. The only light to be seen came from the a dutch door with the top open. This clear white bean spread and caught two stray cats in it's white wake. They were large, and thick with fur, both a dull mottled brown color with lighter cream ruffs.

"Go one shoo, shoo you stupid cats!" A human voice said to the two animals. A tall blond man leaned over the dutch door waving a frying pan at the two cats. His hair was lighter than Mr. Canada's and he had a line of stubble along his chin though it wasn't in a 'haven't shaved in a few days' kind of way, it was tasteful, and made him quite handsome. Though he didn't look very handsome while spitting no doubt multiple curses in some other language at the cats.

"Make us Rushka! You could not 'it us if you tried!" One of the cats said in a thick grating voice. Russians, Ruskies, oohh Casanova hated these guys. Darn Ruskie cats, they were always so arrogant and annoying. He growled at them and stepped out into the light. The two cats froze where they were and hissed at him, while the blond man turned to look at him. With a few choice barks and a faux lunge for one of them they were sent sprinting away with yowls.

"Ahhh Pepe! Good doggie! Where 'ave you been lately mon ami?" The man asked leaning over the dutch door to pat Casanova's head lightly. His tongue lolled out of his head and barked once before bounding back to Bellissima and nudging her out into the light with him.

"Don't worry Felicia, France is good man, he'll like you." He whispered to her as he sat down at the door with her shying just behind him. Despite her ordeal of the last day and a half or so he coat was still neat and soft looking, and while certainly a bit dull, she still managed to shine in kitchen's light. Mr. France's blue eyes lit up with a gentle spark of affection at the lovely little dog presented to him.

"Ahh, you been out with zis petite belle Italian Spaniel. She's a real cher Pepe, almost as beaux as me!" He said happily holding out a hand to the little dog and gentle stroking her ears and head. She leaned into his warm touch and licked his hand in thanks. He laughed and pulled his hand back.

"I know, I'll treat you to my special. It's not a French but I tink a you'll like." He said disappearing from the doorway. A minute later a girl with long brown hair tied in a pair of pigtails came out with a little round crate and swept a white sheet over it. She set it like a real human table, with a pair of candles, and a dozen roses in a vase. Bellissima put her paws up on the table to take a closer whiff of the roses. They weren't overpowering, and in fact she rather enjoyed them.

"'Ere we go, It's a spaghetti, extra meatballs. I figure a good dog like you and his sweet little cherie deserve it." Upon his return France set a large plate in front of the two dogs and then let them be in the alley by themselves. He had a restaurant to run after all. Music drifted in from the front and Bellissima found it all a bit surreal. This dog was so sweet to her, first saving her and protecting her and taking her to places like this. It was nearly as good as her home life with Ita-vee and Master and Alafea.

With the stars beginning to twinkle above they dug into their meal. Again for a street dog he had a surprising amount of manners. He acted like a perfect gentleman, as Kiku often did when he stopped by, but not as distant and formal. Mr. France and the girl from before watched them from the dutch door on and off with smiles. They came up with the same string of pasta a few times bringing their noses together in soft sweet bunny kisses. They licked spots of tomato sauce from each other's muzzles while the insides of their ears turned pink. It didn't quite matter though. They enjoyed it.

When they left France with a few grateful barks and a soft lick of the hand they headed towards the beaches, which took them down the rocky cliff road. The cool sand beneath their paws was a blessing as far as Bellissima was concerned. She was not so used to waking on the hard sidewalks and down muddied back alleys as Casanova was, and it soothed her sore pads. Dark water rolled and rushed over the shore, high with the tide of the moon. They trotted along the shore, dashing in and out with the tide. The quiet hush of the waves followed them even as they made their way up the other end of the beach line back onto the cliffs. This brought them up to the park again where they lazily chased fireflies through the open clearings. Eventually they lay down for the night under a tree at the top of a hill. It was one of the highest points in the city and you could see everything from up there. The gentle summer breeze provided more than enough warmth for them to curl up close together and drift off into sleep.

It was a perfect night Bellissima thought, and there was no other dog she would rather have spent it with. She tried imagining Alfred or Kiku, or even the rarely seen Antonio, a chihuahua who lived down the street, in the same situation, taking her out of the yard early in the morning and not returning until late at night. She just couldn't. No other dog brought out this warm wonderful feeling in her belly. No one but Casanova.