astrangeprofessor
“No… No no no, don’t die. Pleas don’t die” A young Hugo was holding a dog in his arms, trying to stop bleeding from a few large cuts. His tears were fogging his glasses, he had done this, he had killed this dog. A bloody scalpel was laying in the grass, next to a few bandages. Hugo had been trying to desperately sew up the cut before it got to bad but the dog had stopped moving a few minutes. He wanted to help. remove a tumor he had felt
he knew it was fruitless, the blood had stopped flowing and the dog was cold, unmoving. He layed it down in the grass and sobbed. He wanted to help, and now he was a killer
Ambi had seen Hugo around the orphanage where he volunteered. The human looked distressed, and... and why is there a dead dog there, and why was there a bloody... Oh no... He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but this wasn’t looking good for Hugo’s mental state. Ambi wanted answers, but knowing the normal method he uses on supernatural beings (which was basically acting authoritative and not tolerating insubordination.) wouldn’t work on most humans he opts for a more subtle approach.
Slowly he approached keeping his empty hands visible, in sign of peace. Trying not to startle the other he softly he spoke up as he sat down a few feet to one side of the human. “Hey, Hugo... What happened...?”
