Scooby dooby doo? (OPEN)

[Greg Mackenzie]

Greg wasn’t much of a runner, but considering how things had been less than pleasant lately and he’s heard from a number of his friends that running was a great way to clear one’s head, he decided to give the whole thing a try. The weather was great and was asking for it, and it was good cardio, so really he had no excuse.

Waking up early was the only problem. It wasn’t really his thing, but it was the only way to leave his room without making much of a fuss with his roomies. He decided to leave his phone behind – using his iPod as his only source of music – as he figured he couldn’t really think about things should he not be disconnected from the world. He also didn’t take the bus, instead opting to jog towards town. Who knows what epiphany he could get with that extra twenty-five minutes of travel time.

As he took a right by Pender, an idea popped in his head. He hasn’t really been to the club district as he had no reason to (not of age and all that; screw the American legal drinking age), today would’ve been a good day to explore it. Sure it wouldn’t be the same at this time of day, but it’s still something. And he’s been to the lake so many times that it’s practically his backyard.

Right as he was by Hamber Road and take off his shirt ‘cause it’s been dripping with sweat already, he heard a bark. A faint bark, but it was there. He stopped, tucked his shirt by his waistband, and looked around. Another. And another. And another. And it’s getting faint.

He tried the whole location aspect of his telepathy, but sadly it didn’t work on animals. Or at least he only picked up weird thoughts from adults. Weird thoughts that made him shiver. God why the hell did he even do that.

The lack of cars running around that time of day helped the boy locate the source of the barking – a small puppy by the dumpsters behind one of the clubs. And it was hurt. A broken ankle. He walked closer but the faint barking turned into, well, what would probably be a fierce snarl if the dog wasn’t injured. Or a puppy. Or if Greg just didn’t like dogs in general. But he does, so, yeah.

“Hey buddy,” he said as he squat down, slowly approaching the dog, “Calm down. I won’t hurt you.”

[Salem Hirch]

It had been a great day really. The sun was out, but it was behind a nice barrier of clouds; there was a nice breeze blowing, and it just seemed like a nice day for a walk. Well, that and Salem wanted to get away from the usual places he played his guitar. Maybe find a nice spot downtown and settle in where he wouldn't be trampled or really noticed that much. Flinging his guitar on his back, he made the trek downtown. Once there, he made a nice little spot on the corner of an alley and flopped down. Some people first thought he was there for money, but he shook his head each time he was offered and just kept playing.

It was a string of one simple little song after another. A few people stopped to listen, and even some of the costumers from the nearby cafe had moved a bit closer. Sure, Salem didn't like being the center of attention, but to know he was making at least some people happy was good enough for him. The blonde was just starting another song when he felt something nudge his arm. His eyes glanced down and saw an adorable puppy looking up at him. A smile spread across his face and he reached out to pet it. However, the moment he moved his arm, the pup took off.

Salem stood up, he didn't want to leave a little puppy out on the streets alone. Once again, he flung his guitar over his back and gave chase. Well, chase in the sense of walking behind the puppy. Salem was not much for running really. "Maybe I can get mom and dad to keep him on the farm." Salem thought to himself, as he rounded the corner into an alley. "Or maybe I could sneak him into my room at Hammel, so long as he doesn't bark." This of course was a long shot and he knew that, but he would more than likely still try. That is, if he could catch the little speed demon.

Rounding another corner, he realized he was in the club district and it wasn't somewhere he would usually go. He nodded and decided to grab the dog as quickly as possible and get out. Unfortunately, he had lost it. His eyes and ears scanned as much as he could just hoping for a hint, when suddenly, from the alley next to him, came a small growl and then a voice. Someone else had found the puppy?

Salem headed down the alley and stopped when he saw the guy near the dog. This, wasn't the dog he was after, but it looked very similar. He just shrugged it off and cleared his throat. "Um, need any help?" Thinking it was the other boys dog, possibly.

[Greg Mackenzie]

Greg loved dogs. Like, loved. He’s apathetic towards cats, liked hamsters and rabbits, felt weird about fishes, but when it came to canines, well, the Canadian could just straight up die from too much excitement when around them. Cuteness and sheer beauty aside, Greg loved how these animals loved unconditionally. How they’d just bounce up to your lap and show so much appreciation for you despite being gone the entire day. That unwavering loyalty, oh slay him now.

Or at least that’s how he’d always seen them portrayed in films. He unfortunately haven’t had the chance to own one himself. But his goal was to have one when he has a stable job and all. So hopefully when he’s twenty-five. But that discussion was for a totally different day.

Long story short, it was this immense love Greg had for these critters that made the telepath stay around and try his best to get closer to the poor pup. It didn’t help that the puppy was a Great Dane, which was his fifth favourite breed (it was Doberman, German Shepherd, Pug, Corgi, in that order).

“I’m trying to get closer to the puppy over there,” he said as another boy approached him, worried look on his face. He was a little too focused on the puppy that he only glanced at the blonde, gave him a split-second smile, then went back to the puppy. “I think it broke it’s ankle. See that red spot over there?” he pointed, biting his lip, “I think that’s blood. Open wound maybe. Got any ideas?”

Oh how he wished he was Hillary Lu right now. Then he’d just tell the pup he’s not here to hurt him – or her – and he – or she – has nothing to fear. Why can’t his telepathy extend to dogs anyway?

[Salem Hirch]

The other boy spoke and Salem peered over his shoulder, not really noticing the smile to much. Salem moved closer and knelt down near the other and in front of the dog. "Okay well first things first. Relax." He nodded and put on a hand on the other male's shoulder. "If he senses that you're nervous or uptight or even hyper, it can confuse him or make him act weird. Specially if he's hurt." He then took his own hand and curled his fingers under and showed it to the puppy. "Here, make a paw and show him. He's less likely to be afraid of a paw than a hand." He smiled as he waited for the other to make the paw. "Oh, crap...sorry. Forgot to introduce myself. Name's Salem."

Normally Salem would never be this bold in talking to anyone, let alone a guy, but this was different. There was a puppy at stake here. Maybe afterwards, he'd get the guy to help him look for the pup that ran away from him. "Hopefully, he'll come out and I can see if the leg is really broken." Salem was no veterinarian, but he had seen enough wounded animals on the farm to know. However, the puppy was so backed into a dark corner, that it was pretty hard to tell. Slowly he inched closer to the puppy and still waited on the other boy.  

[Greg Mackenzie]

Greg didn’t even realize how tense he was until the other boy pointed it out. The fact that the Canadian almost jumped from his place when the boy put his arm on his shoulder only emphasized his point. He turned just a tinge of pink from the realization. “Relax. Gotcha,” he muttered, taking a deep breath and clearing his mind. Just like the Mr. Wrights had told him.

He followed the boy’s lead, making a paw with his hand, hoping it’d make the pup a bit calmer. “Come on boy. We won’t hurt you,” he whispered, really wishing his telepathy worked with animals. He knew it was a long shot, but he tried projecting soothing thoughts, spreading his mental tendrils radially from where he was. (His projection was anything but accurate, so if anyone else caught them he wouldn’t be surprised). “I’m Greg.” The pup stopped barking at this time, thankfully, which gave the Canadian a chance to look at the boy a bit better. “Have we met?” A class maybe? He looked like he could’ve worked in one of the malls, so that was a possibility too.

He turned back to the pup and, well, saw that their paw-as-hand-and-just-relax technique was working. The poor dog slowly walked towards him, and when he was in arms reach, Greg happily scooped the pup, not minding that it was a tad bit dirty. And smelly. “Oh you poor thing,” he cooed as he slowly stood up, brushing the canine’s fur with his hand, “Don’t worry I got ya.” He noticed the lack of collar around the dog’s neck. Oh lord. “Could you check his leg?”

So Greg’s taken to calling the poor dog a ‘he’ even before they checked its sex. So sue him.

[Salem Hirch]

Salem smiled as he watched the other make a paw of his hand and move closer. As Greg finally got a hold of the small creature, he backed away and set on his knees, giving the boy and the dog a little breathing room. Something was said though, Greg asked him a question didn't he? Yes, he asked if they had met. Kneeling on the concrete Salem racked his brain and looked the other boy over some. He did look familiar, and then it hit him. Hammel. "Oh, um...I don't think we've ever met officially but we do go to Hammel together." He smile sweetly. "Unless you've got a twin." 

That, of course, would not have been uncommon at Hammel. There were a few pairs of twins and then the gestalt pairs. Those were interesting to Salem, the whole two bodies and one mind thing fascinated him. Obviously Greg was not a gestalt, and the statement about a twin was a joke, but still it peeked his interest. However, there was a more pressing issue at the moment. The pup needed tending to. Blowing a stray strand of blonde hair out of his face, Salem inched closer. "Just make sure you hold him still." He spoke calmly as to not upset the dog and gently took it's leg in his hand. Having blind faith that Greg would keep it still. 

He carefully massaged the leg and felt for any fractures. "Nope, none there." Thinking to himself he ran his fingers around the redness that was on the leg. Sure enough he felt a scratch and the red spot was warm. Slowly he took his hand away from the dog and smiled at Greg. "It's not broken, but it's got a semi nasty scratch and probably a bit of infection. Nothing series." He adjusted himself in his seated position and moved his guitar from one shoulder to another. "We should get him to a vet though, to make sure." Salem nodded and brushed more hair out of his eyes.