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[illithidnapped]

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[illithidnapped]

"Hm."

Orlesian, and yet purchased in Kirkwall of all places. If it weren't for the influx of refugees and the inevitable back and forth in the wake of Val Chevin, Astarion might suggest her dog might not be anything but swindled.

But he supposes the odds of legitimacy— all the above considered— aren't nil: she might actually have a very respectable mabari on (or in, hah) her hands. One that's now being subjected to Ataashi's curiosity, her confidence swelling now that he's not moving a mile a minute: lifting herself onto her hind paws (and putting one forepaw on Abby's arm) to snuffle ever closer, giant ears perked upright as her tail stays low.

And neither Fenris nor Ellie are here to tell her not to.

Astarion, pet owner that he isn't, simply keeps talking. "I suppose the Rifts don't like to bring pets through along with us."

That's what he assumes happened, anyway. That she'd had her faithful Leggy or Armmy at her side (Ellie, Abby— they're very double-consonant-plus-eey-sound centric names), right up until Thedas snatched her away.

[armd]

The problem with Wags is that he truly refuses to stay still or held for very long. Abruptly he twists in Abby's arms, being difficult. She tries to hold him out of range of kicking at her body as she drops him back down onto his feet with a dismayed cluck.

Oh well. At least he's holding still again for now, to eagerly sniff Ataashi back.

Abby, watching him, rolls her eyes. "Guess not. But that's probably a good thing."

Otherwise the Gallows would be... much more crowded. Hang on, the way he worded that. "Did you have one back home? Are wolves your thing?" She sounds vaguely offended. Wolves are Abby's thing.