Prince Hans made himself scarce around the castle over the coming days. He'd so fully given into the dog persona, he'd forgotten for awhile he was human.

It was so easy, in a way. Animals didn't have to worry about guilt or shame. He could get away with so much right now. But nobody would ever really love him, not the kind of love he wanted. Hans understood the curse now; it wasn't the fur, or the fangs (hey, those come in handy!) it was the fact that he was a better beast than man.

He tried not to think about Elsa. She had long been an attractive item. He'd heard about her when he was young, rumors, whispers of a scared, fair princess who locked herself away from the world. It was kind of romantic. But as he got older, Hans came to understand that girls who lock themselves in rooms and refuse to talk to people were hazardous. Still, he became somewhat obsessed with the idea of her, just wanting to know what it was like to have everyone at arm's length, to be so totally in control. Overtime, he had realized this was an unhealthy attachment.

Soooo... he went for Anna. Which could have worked, almost. But she didn't understand him. Not even when he revealed his intentions. She was so preoccupied with her problem (albeit freezing to death can be very distracting) she couldn't see the big picture.

And he did not see it either, not at first. It took him going down to four legs to realize how little he had gained, and how far he had to go. The castle was his home now, but it made Hans realize that it wasn't the castle he wanted, or even a place to belong. He wanted love. He wanted respect.

...but he had already blown it. He had the desire to rip off his own head just to get rid of the cursed collar.

Now that the dog had become moody and unsociable again, most of the staff avoided him. Kristoff would occasionally pet him, but almost no one else would even come near the large, snapping beast.

Finally, Hans determined to leave. He could go off on his own- wander off into the mountains and just starve. At least it wouldn't be the torture of being close enough to touch the woman he loved, but not man enough to do it.

As the dog paced the front gates, a familiar scent caught his nose. Snuffing around on the ground, Hans/Shadow/Prince made his way back into the castle, up the stairs, down the hallway into the foreign affairs meeting room.

He knew the scent well; it was Gunther's. Now that he was a dog, it was less of a memory from his childhood, and more of a lifestory consisting of alcohol, violence, and dark, dank places. Also, expensive cologne.

Prince padded inside, used to people ignoring him. His brother sat next to Busby.

"So, you see, your highness, we're here about my brother. We believe he's escaped."

"Escaped?! I thought you said he's drowned?!" Elsa's worried voice hurt Hans. He would never hurt her. Well, not again.

"Which is what we thought too, but after dredging the water..."

"You found him?"

"No, we found nothing. And if I know Hans, and I do, he'll be on his way here to get revenge. He must have bribed someone."

"...do you know who?"

"We're looking at leads."

Busby's eyes were bored at the conversation. It wasn't everyday that someone escaped the island of imprisonment, but it was quite common to deal with people's concerns. At this point, though, his gaze lit on Prince, or, more accurately, his collar. His eyes went wide, and he gasped.

Gunther followed his friend's line of sight, his eyes also lit up in recognition, "It's that dog again?!"

Elsa looked from one to the other, then back again, then to Prince, "...What dog?"

Hans watched the two with guarded interest. There had to be more going on than this. Now that he thought about it, they seemed to be preoccupied with the idea that he was dead, not kidnapped.

"That's the dog that killed Hans!"

Elsa's eyes went wide, her mouth slack. A piercing pain hit Hans' heart. She would be so relieved to hear he was dead.

Gunther related the story, ending with the dog diving into the sea.

Elsa looked at Prince warily, "So... is this his dog?"

Gunther shrugged, reaching out to touch the beast. As his hand got close to Prince's neck, the dog smelled salt on his hands.

Salt, mines, assassination... traitor!

Hans lunged for the hand, snapping at air as his brother withdrew the appendage, "WHEW!"

Prince growled.

"Down boy," Elsa said evenly, but she smirked, "Maybe he's just got a taste for Westerguard blood. Must be why I like him so much..."

Gunther sneered, "He needs to be put down. Irrational temper, that one...!"

The queen smirked, "They keep telling me that. But, I find him quite charming. And loyal."

She scratched him under the chin.

"Does a man have to be a dog to get near to you?"

"No, but most men I've dealt with are worse than dogs. At least Prince here is honest about what he really wants."

Hans snapped at the air between the queen and her visitors.

"And, unless I miss my current guess, he wants a piece out of both of you. I would hate to be rude, so..."

They leaned forward, ready for her to dismiss her pet. This time, she outright smiled, "No, no... my dog stays, you two can apologize for intruding on his territory, or go."

They chose to retreat. Elsa laughed. Hans felt somewhat grumpy over the fact that he was still just her pet, but he could still defend her.

"Prince?"

He looked up at her, resting on his haunches.

"I need you, okay?"

He tilted his head, trying to make her understand.

"You always know how to make me feel better, don't you?"

That blasted tongue lolled out.

"...good boy...!"

Hans thought sadly to himself, I don't think I really am...!