I think this chapter's a little longer. And I'm certain they'll get even longer in later chapters. For now, enjoy! And thank you, Atomshipping for your advice.
Snowy paced around the kitchen as he tried to think of how he would get back to Tintin. He knew he was worried, and possibly afraid, and he felt something terrible might happen to his master if he didn't get back to him. Of course, Snowy also knew his good friends, Captain Haddock, the Professor, Thompson and Thomson, and even Nester would try all they could to cheer him up. Even so, Snowy himself didn't have the company of close friends to help him through this rough time, and felt the great need to run around frantically until he found his own way home. However, he knew this would come to no good cause, and proceeded to think things through before taking any action. His only problem was, how long until he figured it out?
It had been a few days already, and he had already gained the knowledge of his own whereabouts from hearing a native speak in the town. He was somewhere in Italy, which meant only Switzerland and France stood between him and Belgium, where Tintin would be at Marlinspike. Now he needed a plan to escape, an opportunity to execute that plan, and means to get there before it was too late.
Too late for what? Snowy wasn't sure, but he felt his fur bristle just thinking about it, and a low growl escaped his throat. He shivered remembering how he got here in the first place. Almost drowning in the ocean. He continued to pace the kitchen floor, until the boy, whose name was Michel, entered the room, and lifted the small dog to bring him up to bed. As they went down the upstairs hall to his little room, they passed his mother's room, where she sang every night as she brushed her hair in front of her mirror. Snowy liked to hear her voice as he drifted off to sleep, and the little bed Michel made for him was nice, but it wasn't the same as home. He would listen to the old house creak as the wind blew around it, and he would snuggle next to Tintin, who would gently stroke his head before falling asleep. Snowy missed that, and would give anything to be back with his master tonight.
The next morning, he thought long and hard as Michel took him for a walk along the nearby beach. He gazed at the water with a shudder, a new fear rising up in him that he never felt before. He was certain he had been close to drowning in the past, but Tintin was always with him, and if Tintin didn't rescue him, he rescued Tintin. He let out a whimper, thinking about past adventures, and Michel looked down at him with a concerned face.
"What's wrong, Cloud?" he asked, as he kneeled down to stroke his soft head. Snowy whimpered more, wishing the boy could understand. The boy shrugged, and ran off to play in the ocean, while Snowy sat on the beach, watching.
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