Black and brown fur parted easily under Nori’s hands, the softest and warmest under the hound’s massive throat. Dwalin was pale as he watched, though there was also awe and admiration in his eyes.
“He was one of the outcasts of his litter,” Nori explained and smiled as the hound leaned into his touches. “They thought he couldn’t be trained for anything, but the breeder owed me and he was just too glad to give one pup to me. And see, Dunin is a very kind beast. To me and his friends at least.”
Dunin’s tongue lolled out of his mouth, revealing fangs that could tear a Dwarf to shreds within minutes. He was impressive, his dear pup.
Dwalin paled a little more.
“That does not explain why you decided to keep a … a warg of all things, and why you brought it here.”
“Not a warg,” Nori corrected mildly and wrapped his arms around Dunin’s neck. He couldn’t quite reach around. “One of the finest bred hounds of the Iron Hills.”
Dwalin was still giving him a disbelieving look, and Nori sighed.
“Look at him Dwalin, he’s good. A big scary hound, fit for only war and destruction, bred to be a warrior. But look at what a cuddly foolish thing he also is. Besides, he’s all over me and I like that.”
Dunin’s muzzle pressed against Nori’s face, making him snort and tighten his grip. Dwalin raised his eyebrows, looking sceptical, but at least not as on edge anymore. He took a step closer, carefully, but Nori reached out one hand and Dunin remained still and watched him. His tail wagged a little when Dwalin was close enough to touch, and Nori took Dwalin’s hand to place against Dunin’s massive flank.
Dwalin let out a surprised laugh, and Dunin briefly sniffed at him, before returning to his happy panting.
“So we’ll keep him?” Nori asked with a smile as he watched his two warriors interact.
Dwalin snorted and shook his head.
“As if I could say no to you.”
Dunin was mariejacquelyn's idea, from an Expected Journey, and that's how he looks