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You said that you had a headcannon about Alastor's potential (maybe or maybe not) fear/distaste for dogs regarding the incidents of his death.
I'm curious to know what you thought of, if you'd like to share!!
I'd love to! Here's my two cents on Alastor's death and his opinion on dogs.
Alastor's death was slow. He was shot through the head, yes, but he hadn't lost consciousness entirely from that. Even lifeless on the ground, he was still aware of the blinding pain blooming from his forehead. He heard the barking of hunting dogs, the sound growing in volume until it was unbearably loud. He felt the dogs' teeth digging into his flesh, unable to see clearly past the blood in his eyes. He was completely, agonizing aware for his remaining seconds of life. It felt far longer than that.
Naturally, he hated dogs after that. Hearing barking still brought to mind that experience. There was nothing more frightening to him than the barking of dogs, and he would overreact to every dog he encountered, no matter the size of the hellhound or how loud it might have been. During his early days, he had killed a dog out of pure terror.
This frustrated him. Dogs were nothing to him. A majority of them are small, relatively harmless creatures. He knew that. There wasn't a single dog that threatened him. He hated this newfound fear he had, and he was determined to get rid of it.
Alastor's method for that was desensitization. He found a pack of dogs, and made it part of his routine to pass them by. The dogs were the loud, rowdy type; the kind of neglected dogs that are left outside on their own for too long, without regular meals or a place to sleep; the dogs that are prone to growling, barking, and biting due to their mistreatment. They were chained to their yards, unable to leave without their collars choking them. At first, Alastor just passed by, staying on the opposite side of the street,. It gave a fair amount of distance between himself and the yard they stayed in, allowing him to get used to the sound of barking. Once he was finally able to keep from flinching at the relentless barking, he switched to walking on the sidewalk in front of them. He was the nconfronted with their growling, their hostile attention, right next to him. He forced himself to move despite the relentless terror, and it eventually turned from debilitating fear to something more like background noise. When he could finally walk by without looking at them, it was a victory. He took to provoking the hounds when he could, finding joy in seeing them helplessly try and jump at him, fueled both by his own newfound courage and the knowledge that they couldn't hurt him.















