lost dog || faycliffe/perger
Roger honestly thought that living in a small country town would be peaceful but it was clear, after six months, that it really was not. There had been two—three, maybe? He was losing count—attacks, that resulted in nearly fatal injuries in the best case and a death in the worst case. Then there’d been that crazy storm the other day and now his left hand was messed up and he couldn’t play properly. And of course, there’d been that bloody spell and every strange, whispering thought that lingered from it.
He’d felt very restless, the past few days, not able to play any music, not able to ease his mind.
To top it all off, there was a bloody curfew and that was just a bit obnoxious and excessive. What was gonna stop vampires or witches or whatever Magick from attacking them in the middle of the day?
He found himself outside more often now and today he was walking Sally and Skipper again. Sally, as usually, was bounding ahead gleefully, while Skipper trod at Roger’s side. Roger was whistling to himself—some faint strands of an old song. He found himself whistling more nowadays, because he couldn’t play. It was a way to get the music out.
Roger had broken bones before, mind you, but it had been ribs and a leg. Never a hand. He felt antsy. Even in his cast, he jiggled his hand at his side.
He was walking down Main Street, when he saw someone on the other side of the street also walking a Dalmatian. Huh, he thought to himself. He didn’t remember any blonde ladies adopting Dalmatians recently. There’d been Blaine and Sally and some family, but he didn’t know any blonde lady. Out of the corner of his eye, she looked almost familiar. But he didn’t think much of it, because this town was small and all the faces started to look familiar.
Something about this lady made him want to turn around again though. Not because she was attractive, but because she really did look familiar in a way that wasn’t just “small town familiarity.”
Before he could turn his head, Sally had other ideas.
With a loud bark, she dragged him across the street and bolted straight for the other Dalmatian.
“Sally!” Roger yelped, but with only one hand, he couldn’t quite reign her in.
Skipper followed his sister and soon they were on the other end of the street and Roger was apologizing.
“’m so sorry,” he said, gesturing to the air. “I’ve a bad hand right now and I couldn’t get them in but I hope---Perdita?”
Now he recognized the lady and his eyebrows flew up and his mouth dropped open.
“Blimey, you’re here?”
Does Paul know? He almost let that slip, but something told him not too. Paul had called him up a few days after Perdy had gone missing and Roger’d said he’d keep Paul updated. It’d been a weird situation too and he half-wondered why he hadn’t asked Anita about it but then remembered that that had been right after the spell and there was still that wedge of “love confession inside gazebo also Anita got married” between them. He closed his mouth and then smiled.
“Er. Hi!”
@pretty-perdita