Arturo had heard the tires crunching the gravel out front. There was a dash of harsh light of headlights stabbing through his windows for just a moment, illuminating his living room and the sleeping form on his couch. A flash of yellow, wrapping over the boy's husky build like it was trying to rip the blanket from him. Trying to reach the mark on his lower back.
With a huff, Arturo only looked over the boy's messy feathers for a moment before going to the front door. Making sure everything by the door was as it should be, the lock clicked and he stood in the door frame while the man was already coming up to the porch. The man walked with an uncanny amount of confidence, coming close much too quickly. The moment the porch light hit his thinning black fur, Arturo scrunched his nose. "You're good right there," he said. "I can see you from here. I'm not that blind yet."
The wolf stopped abruptly, seeming surprised to have been given caution. Still, with little light to outline his shape from the night, a smile emerged. "Just here to pick up the Bartner boy. Gotta get him back to his Papa, y'know?" He said.
Arturo snorted. The wolf's tail had spiked a little at the noise. "Aw," Arturo hummed, trying to find that "friendly neighborhood voice" all these men kept doing. "Boy's already asleep. We had a big dinner. I don't think we have to wake him."
The wolf tilted his head, still smiling. "Asleep? That's okay." He said, and suddenly he was coming forward again. "I'm sure it'll be fine. I can carry him if I need to." Arturo felt his muscles tensing as the man came to the door, trying to impose himself on his own damn porch, angling his head to slip his eyes between Arturo and the door. Huffing again, Arturo pulled the door tight to his side, then carefully grabbed what he made sure was leaned upright next to the door. The man paused, still as stone, as his gaze flicked down to the new flicker of reflected light. The muzzle of a rifle in Arturo's reach. Expression hardened but strained with the same smile, he looked back at Arturo. "He needs to get back to his father."
Arturo met the challenge in his eyes. He allowed the noise of the night to speak for him for just a moment, the buzzing of carefree mosquitoes and the singing of impassioned crickets-- the life of his own damn land that he was sure would never even squeak near this man's yard. "...Respect to you, Mr. Rauber," Arturo said lowly. "But I own a family home, and I don't believe in disturbing the children in their sleep."
Rauber's face creased, sunken cheeks twitching.
"So you can go back to your house," Arturo stood straighter upon hearing the slight shuffle behind him from the couch. "Go clean the leaves out of your pool. His father can come get him in the morning."
