Thank God the water's cool. Sure, Ziggy's never been one to complain, at least, not after he'd decided that he needed to repent for his lifetime of being an insufferable dick, but it had been a cooker the last few days on the handful of odd-jobs he'd undertaken, and he felt bad for Cash, the German Shepherd panting more than he was doing anything else lately. So it's no surprise that he's playing frisbee with the pup and a few of the other locals now, a towel around his shoulders and swim trunks both already wet from a few trips into the lake- at least one of them surely to chase the dog, similarly wet and thrilled to partake in the day's festivities.
He's taken by surprise, though, when in the middle of chasing a throw, Cash halts in his tracks to start barking, wagging his tail wildly. "What the hell's gotten into-" He trails off, turning to look where the canine's attention has settled. "Shoulda assumed it was you, Sparkplug, everybody else in this town's about as interestin' as wallpaper to Johnny Cash here." He reaches down to pat the pup's head, crosses arms over his bare torso with a grin as he take Bri in. "Damn nice day out, ain't it? Crossing my fingers it stays that way, been a scorcher the last few."
@violenttempest