Why I'm sitting with Jace and Riley is beyond me.
I'm feeling extremely out of place at the table of my acquaintances. Sitting here in the awkwardness, I can't help but picture myself strangling Skylar for pulling me away when Uriah and his group had invited me earlier.
It must've been her pleading eyes that kept me compliant, or the fact that I didn't want to cause a scene with three flanking beasts.
Today is the second time I've brought them to the mess hall. So far, they're making good progress in creating a good image of themselves - well, Hawk is at least - considering that this is their third day here. The other two are still pretty reserved towards the general population, rarely bothering to greet unfamiliar faces other than the occasional lucky ones.
Which is why these anthropophilic two are sitting between Skylar and me while Hawk faces the walkway.
"Puppy!" Another small toddler runs to the light brown dog, palms stretched out as the dog shuffles forward into the makeshift embrace. Hawk gives the child licks on the cheek as his ears get squished and tugged in return.
Beside me, Skylar practically has eyes shaped as hearts. "Look at them… your dogs are so good with children. Why can't I have one too?" She mutters wistfully, head supported by her propped elbows and cupped hands.
I glance to the blinking boyfriend across her. I'm pretty sure he's in shock at her enchantment; or horrified at the prospect of having a beast like this roam in their apartment. Riley has a similar expression to Zack's, except that she looks ready to bolt the moment Hawk just so much as glances at her. Jace on the other hand, is intrigued by my dog, his focus trained on the interaction between toddler and canine.
My lips purse in hope. Any moment now, the mother will magically appear.
"What's his name again?" Jace asks from across me.
My attention flickers to him before I turn back to the knife and apple in my hand. "This one's-"
The toddler's squealing cuts of my train of thought. "Two puppies!" I drop the apple onto my tray and place the knife down, eyes widening as I feel a being push against my jutting back.
I am too late. The toddler has his hands on Sabre now, squishing his face as his piercing squeals intensifies. My wolfdog has his ears flattened back as he gives the deranged child a timid lick on his wormy fat hands. I cringe as Gunner panickily scrabbles under the bench and table; the high-pitched giggles and invasive presence disturbing his peace of eating premium apple slices.
Belatedly, the expected female voice appears. "Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry!" It's about time. "John! Don't disturb other people!"
My ears perk. John?
The young mother stops right in front of a wagging Hawk, apprehensively giving him a once-over. She then turns to me sheepishly, "I'm so, so sorry about this."
I give her a falsely polite smile. "No, it's alright. My dogs enjoy the attention." Except that it's not plural, it's singular; I don't say that aloud.
"Look! Look! Puppy!" The toddler wobbles back to his mother, using Hawk as balance once he passes between the narrow benches.
"Yes, I see it." The mother says, placing her hands on either side of the toddler so she can carry him away.
The toddler immediately wriggles away and grabs the hand closest to Hawk, shoving it until she touches his fur. "Touch! Puppy!" The mother placates her child and pets Hawk like he's not-so-expertly showing her.
After she's gotten ahold of him, she continues to apologize to me. Of which each time I politely reassure her that it's fine.
This cycle has happened around three times within this hour alone, not including all the times I've been stopped to get to the mess hall. The attention has yet to die down with the majority of the population taking it upon themselves to inspect and approve of the dogs - as if they had power over me.
Okay, it wasn't as bad as I made it out in my head.
After my run-in with Mark, I received a text the following morning from 'Dauntless Leadership' informing me of the arrival of the dogs. Skylar said that this was a faction-wide broadcast, which practically shoved me to an even brighter spotlight.
From that moment on, fatigue had increased ten-fold with no signs of decreasing. Don't get me wrong, most of my encounters with people were positive. I have a tiny suspicion that my run-in with Mark had spread like wildfire, which would explain why everyone I've met had been so friendly.
"So, what are you going to do now?" Skylar asks beside me. Her voice has returned from its girlish episode of dreaminess.
Passing an apple slice to Hawk, I reply, "I'll continue Sabre's training for picking their food and getting the dogs to familiarize the compound." I want to get them off-leash as soon as the run-ins with people die down. Work also starts tomorrow, which means I don't have much time left.
'Ding!' The metal doors slide open and Gunner trots out. "Hey baby boy," I coo. A wide smile spreads across my face and I crouch down, giving the dog a scratch under the chin while he drops the ball onto my awaiting palm. Gunner sticks his tongue out at my grin. Plopping the peanut butter treat into his mouth, I continue, "Aren't you just a smart baby? Such a cutie."
The dog – expectedly – doesn't reply, crunching the treat while I turn to Sabre, "your turn Sabre."
Sabre shakes to adjust his loaded vest. I've added more weight to his than the other two, letting him get used to navigating and being in situations where he'll have to climb. So far, the bag of apples has yet to detach from the straps holding them.
My silver dog stands on his hind legs to press the lift button then hops back down, tail wagging he waited for the doors to close. Gunner nudges the ball in my hand, waiting for me to throw it.
We've been doing this for the past three days now, with now being the first time the dogs try out independently. The task is simple: take the elevator up, grab a toy at my new office, and come back down. I walked them through the processes of using the elevator, which only consisted of pressing the call buttons and either G or 3.
The digital display over the elevator shows 3, indicating that the last dog had pressed the right button. I haven't brought them to the 1st and 2nd floor, deciding that I will do it when the need to visit human resources arises.
The elevator dings and before I can lift my head from the ball Gunner has once again retrieved, a male voice muses, "You know, I thought he was lost; until he pushed the button I was to reaching for." Max strolls out behind Sabre, who's holding a length of thick knotted rope. "Remarkable creatures. Aren't they?"
My hand moves to scratch Sabre's chin before passing him his well-deserved treat. "They are. Thanks again for allowing them to come over," I smile politely.
"It's no problem. It's a pleasure to have them here." Max crouches down to an approaching Hawk, examining the canine. "How long did it take for you to train that?"
"Maybe seven sessions? I try to keep each session short, so they won't grow bored quickly." Training them on this was awkward at times, specifically when there's another passenger.
Max hums in response, probing the vest on Hawk. "These… clothing… will they be used for transporting documents?"
As much as I know I shouldn't, I can't help the tiny flash of irritation that courses through me. Max's only concern is how the dogs will benefit him. "Yep. There are attachable compartments for the sizes you need." I take a long calming breath. To be fair, I did agree to the terms.
And to add salt to the wound, it was I who suggested it too.
"Hawk and Sabre will be the ones transporting items. I'm still working on familiarizing the routes for them, so that may take a few more days. For now, they only know how to get to the mess hall and loading bay." Hawk trots off once Max lets go of him, distracted by something I wasn't paying attention to.
He looks up and examines Gunner warily. "And this will be the one transporting shipments?" he asks, unconvinced that my extremely capable canine could pull a large enough load that would contend a member's.
I thickly swallow his much-deserved sneer. "Yep. I've spoken to Veronica about it already." Well Liam, technically.
Since food shipments come during the morning, Liam and I agreed that Gunner will only be there the latest by lunch. Liam didn't hesitate this time when I brought the topic back up with Gunner by my side. His eagerness gave me the slightest inkling that perhaps having my magnificent child flank him boasted his image ten-fold. But of course, I would never know the truth.
Max is surprised that she agreed, a conceited grin appearing upon his face. "I'm glad to hear so. Didn't think she would've," he muses.
Doubtful.
Veronica was one of the few who were genuinely supportive of the dogs, even though she did not show it as outwardly as others have.
"I had Eric put in a word for you, you know?" he adds unnecessarily; cockily.
If Max continues with his self-proclamations about how my dogs are only here because of him, I'll snap. "Really? Thanks so much," I politely spit out. Although all Max did was to give me the initial green light, it is my responsibility that they remain here.
It wasn't until I felt something cool and wet nudge my clench fist did I realized how worked-up I was getting. Gunner had sidled up to me, no doubt when he saw me tensed.
"Well then, I better get going," the Dauntless leader cheerfully says, completely unaware of how he had thrown my mood off a cliff. "Do train them quick, I would like to see them in action," he says light-heartedly.
Gunner pushes past my hand, causing it to run down his neck and to his back. Drawing a hopefully unnoticeable deep breath, I smiled again at my leader, wishing him a good day despite him not reciprocating it.
"Isn't he lovely?" is the first thing I snarled to Gunner once the tattooed man was out of earshot. "Do train them quick, I would like to see them in action. I had Eric put in a word you know," I mock in a falsely high voice. "Who does he even think he is? Amirite boy?"
Gunner doesn't reply, only staring and pawing my bent knee in worry.
I take that as an agreement.
"Come on, we're done here today." Maybe I could bring them back to the control room today, Four's co-workers seemed pretty taken by the dogs; wouldn't hurt to pay a visit. "Sabre," I call, frustration quickly residing in the presence of my furkids. "You wanna go see Four?"
The wolfdog, hearing Four's name – or more likely, his own – came trotting up to me, not before picking up the knotted rope he dumped in the middle of the hallway. He's oblivious to the exchange earlier, possibly high on the peanut butter I gave him.
Just as I'm about to leave, I realize one of my dogs is missing. But even before I can call out his name, the elevator behind me chimes, causing an amused smile dance across my face. Of course, he would like to go for another round for fun, typical Hawk.
I'm about to call my fawn pup over when an ear-piercing screech of 'YOU!' tosses my slowly recovering mood back into the deepest lake in Amity.
There are moments in time where I wonder who were the dogs in the room, the three animals beside me, or the crazed workers hurtling towards us.
I fail to relate to the palpable excitement rolling off the grown adults as they screamed 'THE DOGS ARE BACK!', mainly because I had the most unfortunate run-in with probably the person who most despises my children to date: the Old Hag.
Hawk had groveled out of the elevator, ears flat and tail tucked as a lady I vaguely recognize came stomping out, demanding I tell her why I allowed my dog to run off on its own. My poor boy was probably scared to death during his short period of being stuck with Old Hag; I could tell by the way he crawled to Sabre for comfort, who immediately began performing a thorough sniff examination on his brother.
The Old Hag – that to be frank, isn't physically in the category of 'old' – saw that Hawk and I had back-up, resulting in her begrudgingly swallowing her reprimanding shouts into a sneer. I had wished for her to come up to my face, threaten me, caw all her complaints she had about my dogs, but much to my dismay, she didn't. All she did was shoot me a baleful glare, held her nose high, and high-tailed past us.
For some innate reason, that worried me, for I knew there was more to come.
I wasn't even sure who she was, much less where I've seen her from. The Old Hag had dark hair, a crooked nose, and a ton of odd ear piercings to match. Were she not shouting at me like a cranky grandma, I would've even considered her as hospitable.
"LOOK AT THE BEAST!" Zeke has Gunner's face in his hands, wriggling like a child who was just told he could skip school.
The first thought that went through my mind – except the fact that I can't relate – is that he reminds me a lot like Skylar. Though now that I'm watching, most of the people in the control room reminded me of her. Most of the seats are now empty. Mostly everyone is circling us, either giving my dogs pets and scratches or peering curiously at the dogs like they're animals in from those pre-Great War zoos. The excitement radiating off the staff is contagious, so much so that even Sabre is wagging his tail from all the attention he's getting.
Sadly, as always, the dogs' welcoming party doesn't last long.
"Okay people," a party pooper bellows light-heartedly, "please remember that we still have a city to watch." Groans rise all around me.
Lauren stands with her hands on her hips while the crowd sluggishly dissipates, her lips pulled to one side in as she stares at the scene in amusement. I pray that she doesn't say anything that would set me off, seeing that I'm already barely holding on.
"Hey Anna, could I steal your dog while you're here?" my chase-tag teammate asks me, his hands clasped together as he attempts at what I assume are puppy eyes. "Pretty pleaseeeee?"
The moment Zeke first cast his eyes on Gunner was the deciding moment that the dog was his favorite. He was pretty vocal about it too, snapping at everyone who voiced otherwise. The Lion's leader liked the fact that Gunner looks 'badass' and didn't immediately come to greet him like Hawk did, finding great joy when the dog gave him permission to pet - he didn't. I don't mention that Gunner would've let anyone else done the same, begrudgingly.
"That's it!" Zeke had exclaimed over the lunch table yesterday, "We're changing Lions to Gunners, with this bad boy as our mascot!" He's reading Gunner's name off the collar, in disbelief that he's magnificently called that.
Lynn had cringed at the announcement, going back to her food while Uriah jumped to squabble with his brother. Four, on the other hand, pointed to Sabre beside him and said, "Sabres is a better name, sure you didn't introduce him?"
Wasn't exactly the response I expected from everyone. "Alright, no one's going change the team's renowned name to my dogs," I had stated authoritatively over the heated bickering. "Four just told me that teams can't change names anyway."
Uriah moaned then, his mouth curving downwards like a baby. Unlike his brother, Zeke only slyly replied, "Not officially, but we could ingrain it into the people's brains that it becomes unofficially official."
He left me stupefied then.
"Of course," I hand him Gunner's leash, "you can even release him if your superior doesn't mind."
Zeke holds the leash and gazes it in awe. The way he stared makes it seem like I've just given him the keys to the biggest apartment in Dauntless, not, a measly piece of rope. "Really?" he asks breathlessly, "I can do that?" Then he turns to an alarmed Gunner, "you hear that boy? You can roam around here for free!"
I refrain from stating that in time, they will all be able to roam freely. "Just ask your superior," I warn lightly, feeling that he may just unleash Gunner because of how empowered he feels.
Zeke lifts his head back up, whispering 'I will' like he just accepted a quest to save a princess from the dragon. "I won't let you down."
With that, he puffs his chest and marches over to a man who's flicking through his tablet, Gunner hesitatingly following. I don't miss the look of utter betrayal from my velcro dog.
"You okay?" Four asks beside me, looking concerned while I shoot the pair weird looks.
"Yeah, I am." Zeke excitedly waves over to me, giving me a thumbs up and points to my other two dogs as the man goes back to his tablet. Shooting Zeke a half-hearted smile, I crouch to snap off the leashes. "Why?"
Sabre walks up to Four, greeting him with a wolfish grin. "You came in looking pretty upset," he replies pointedly, patting Sabre on the head in greeting.
"Is that so…" I drawl, mind flashing to the time when he stalked me just so he could reconcile. When he doesn't react or take the bait, I continue. "Nice of you to notice," I comment coolly, "I had a bad run-in with some people earlier."
I half expected him to say 'yeah, I saw', but he didn't. Instead, he tilts his head slightly from his bent back, puzzled. "About the dogs?" he asks, straightening himself.
"Yeah," I reply and chuckle wryly, "but haters gotta hate, am I right?"
Four doesn't reply, not in a way that it looked like he didn't agree. Based on the furrow of his brows, it leaned more toward like he didn't seem to get the idiom. "Well, I guess they do," he tests slowly, wiping his hands on his black jeans. Then he looks back to Sabre, "What's this?"
He's pointed at the small container attached to Sabre's vest. It's the box of treats I'd made for when they start work. We collected it during the detoured back to the apartment for me to remove Sabre's load. "Oh, that's to be left here," I say, "for when the dogs come bringing documents or items." I wave Sabre over and unclip the container of small bone-shaped biscuits, passing it to Four.
For reasons unbeknownst to me, Four pulls off the lid to sniff the goods he's never going to consume. Eyebrows fly up as the smell of peanut butter hits his senses. "These smell good."
I shoot him an unamused look as to say, well duh, I made them. "They smell better than they taste, to be honest." I can attest to that.
I scan the large room for my poor Gunner, surprised to see he's busy staring attentively at a screen. He has his forelegs on the table, propping his already tall self to watch the uneventful scene of a street. Zeke's large arm around the canine's back, trapping and explaining animatedly to a being who doesn't understand a word he's saying.
Hawk had trotted off after I removed the leash, greeting Lauren who - thankfully - seemed pleased to see a friendly face. After he was satisfied with the number of scratches he'd receive, he daringly proceeds to the man with the tablet. The man, who's glancing curiously at the dog, wears a loose black short sleeve against his lean body. From afar, I vaguely recognize him from somewhere. The block tattoos around his forearm that resembles Eric's neck ones suggests that he's probably one of the leaders, except that I didn't have the slightest idea who he is.
"Who's that?" I nod towards the direction of the man. Hawk had left after the man didn't give him enough attention. The leader's hair has kept its natural color, tousled but not in a way that's messy. His neck is bent unhealthily as he frowns at the screen of his tablet, lips moving minutely like he's talking to it.
Four cranes his head and leans forward, blocking my view of his side profile. Instead of replying, he turns to me quizzically, a look saying 'shouldn't you know your leaders considering that you're starting work tomorrow?'. It's only when I blink does he shake it off and reply. "That is Kyle. He's in charge of weapons and the city's security. You can usually find him here if he's not down at the weapons hall," he pauses, unsure, "Didn't Eric introduce them to you?"
I shrug, "Nope. But he's probably in my contacts somewhere." Pulling out my phone, I scroll through my contacts. "There," I point at his caller profile, "saved as DL Kyle – Weapons & Security." Imagine if Eric went over the top and attached a picture to each one too.
Four squints at the small screen, eyebrows knitting together. "How do you already have so many contacts already?"
Something mixed between a groan and whine enters my ears. Hawk has been moving from computer to computer, wanting in on what everyone is doing. Since he arrived here, this is the first time I'm seeing the curious side of him returning. A woman with dark blue hair who's now accommodating him childishly sticks out her tongue at her pouting co-worker. Hawk could care less though, judging how he's focused on the uneventful screen of another abandoned street. Once he realizes that nothing interesting is happening, he abandons the woman for the next person on the left.
"Oh, Eric filled in the contacts for me when he got me the phone," I reply him absentmindedly, "sweet of him to do so."
Sabre pads near us, sniffing boxes that have been propped against the wall. My mind drifts with nothing to do. Ever since we've been officially reunited, Sabre rarely lets me leave his sight, his neediness contending with Gunner's. It had gotten to the extent that he would wait outside the toilet, whining when I take longer than a few minutes. I suspect that the period of separation had caused him emotional trauma, even after the peace-serum administered. It'll take time. I pray this phase won't last long.
It's been four days since the dogs moved in. From a bird's eye view, I can safely say my dogs have been settling well into their new life here in Dauntless. Now, most of my nights have been spent in my apartment, either brushing their fur or lazing around with them. It is nice, the peace and quiet of doing nothing but watch movies while snuggling up with three fur beds. I was momentarily stuck when it slipped my mind that the dogs needed a final bladder release at night – the loading bay had closed – but I managed to find a stairway leading down to the chasm. I sincerely hope no one spends their time down there, for my dogs have claimed that spot as theirs.
As much as I would like to live in a bubble with my dogs, work starts tomorrow. I'll be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. Luckily, Hawk and Sabre will be with me, until they're perfectly confident to navigate by themselves to deliver items. With less than twenty-four hours to work, I'm still unsure of what tomorrow's agenda is, except that there's a general meeting with leadership first thing in the morning. Eric had told me to relax – I don't know how he could tell I was panicking inside, maybe the way Hawk was yapping worriedly when my heartbeat picked up – and stated that it was just a mandatory meeting they have at the start of each week. It didn't anything to ease my worry.
Four takes a while to reply, so when he finally does, I've completely forgotten what we're talking about. "It's almost as if he's changing," Four mutters. He sounds like he's mumbling to himself, but I respond anyway.
"Who?" I ask, peering past him. Kyle still has his neck craned down to his tablet. He doesn't seem to have changed at all.
Four follows my line of vision before glancing at me, puzzled. "Eric...? Is he here?"
Oh right, Eric, phone contacts. Right. "No, was lost for a second. I guess he is… changing," I say the word hesitantly. Unlike Four, I don't believe Eric has been changing. Sure, he's treating me differently, but that doesn't mean it applies in every aspect of his life.
My mind drifts to the scene with Mark. Some would argue that Eric has changed, seeing that he's lightened Mark's superfluous punishment. But had Eric not asked for my opinion, Mark would've suffered in mild poverty for half a year unbeknownst to me. Mark didn't deserve that, especially when it's over a reckless mistake that wasn't thought through.
Yet, what frightens me the most isn't Eric's brutality. Rather, it's the nagging feeling that I do not know the full extent of his ways – on purpose. With his countless sweet acts already occurring in the shadows, what more the acts he deliberately keeps from me? The thought buries into the back of my mind.
A/N
Hi. So laptop went buggy, hence me going MIA for a month. Took a while to get it fixed and it traveled across the country. But it's working now :D I miss my baby so much (literally just got it back fully functioning today) Thanks so much for your patience!
On the bright side, I did manage to continue writing. (Couldn't upload because it wasn't my laptop and I had to download sketchy stuff to get on this website :') ) Still thinking on how to upload 29 and 30, because I dislike 29.