woof. ([personal profile] unversed) wrote in [community profile] samegawa2012-01-21 09:45 pm

#a day in the life

Title: A Day In the Life of Bec the Husky
Fandom: Homestuck
Disclaimer: i own jack shit
Pairings/Characters: implied Jade/Dave, Bec, young Roxy.
Extras: originally a school assignment, totally totally AU, Bec is blind, etc etc.


*

8:00 a.m.

The sharp clack of the lock turning wakes you first, chasing away the remaining fuzz of sleep from your head; not that you really slept much these days anyway. You listen to the quiet scuff of worn sneakers across the two day old polished linoleum floor, rising up from your little half-cot, half-plush pile of old baby blankets and a well-worn quilt. Scuffed Sneakers stops in front of your door and you lift your head, taking a brief sniff of the air.

“Good morning, Bec.”

Immediately your mouth stretches into a lopsided grin, tongue lolling out a little as you pad over to Scuffed Sneakers, aka Jade, though you’ve come to associate her more with Orange Blossoms from the soap she uses. Jade reaches through the openings of the cage door, slender fingers smoothing through your fur, scratching behind your ears in that one place you can never reach. She giggles quietly when you press your nose against her palms, hearing the familiar jingle of keys as she unlocks the cage. You’re eager to go out, run through the fields and smell the morning dew before you leave.

Today is a big day. Today you’re getting adopted.


9:45 a.m.

Jade absently fiddles with your leash as you wait in the lobby, your head resting in her lap. You can tell she’s nervous: if you listen hard enough, you can hear the rapid flutter of her heartbeat, though the heated moisture from her palms are mostly a dead giveaway. You nuzzle her side a little and she makes a noise that’s a cross between a chuckle and a huff – her laugh when she’s trying to be quiet.

The boy at the front desk has his iPod hooked up to the speakers again (you’ve heard Jade call him Dave once or twice, but you always end up associating him with apples and dry static-y heat after a thunderstorm), deep bass notes sending small vibrations along the floor and up your paws. You hear him say something to Jade, his voice lower with something like sadness and you smell his scent getting closer. Calloused fingers ruffle your fur and you tilt your head into his softer palm, your tail lightly hitting against his shin. Jade says something to him, her fingers joining his, and you don’t like the sound of it; it’s too heavy, not like her usual liltingly bright tone.

A few drops of wetness fall on your head, the air tinged with salt as soft arms wrap around your neck. You lift your muzzle, gently licking away the salty residue from Jade’s face and you congratulate yourself on drawing a few giggles from her. She’s talking to you now, murmuring loving words into your fur while Dried Apples pats your head, occasionally tweaking your ears. You can’t see their expressions, but they let you press your muzzle against their faces and you’re glad they’re at least smiling, even if just a little.


10:30 a.m.

A family of three comes in, two adults and one child. The kid is shy, footsteps hesitant and placed immediately after one of the parents – obviously hiding behind them, as kids often do. Jade and Dried Apples come to a stand, and you sit on your hunches between them. You can feel her tighten her grip a little on your leash briefly as the family’s footsteps draw nearer.

It’s a man who speaks next and him, Jade, and Dried Apples talk for a bit, but you’re a little distracted because you feel a slight shift in the air. A small hand lightly falls on your face and the action catches you a little off guard, making you snort while you pull your head back. A cute girly giggle bursts forth along with the lightly patronizing tones of a woman, and you feel a little of the tension leaving Jade. Cute Giggles speaks up:

“Mama, is he our doggy?”

“Yes he is, Roxy. He’s going to be a part of our family, now. Why don’t you go say hi to him properly this time?”

You sit still as Rose’s hands fall on you again, tiny little fingers lightly wriggling against the fur around your neck. She’s nervous too, but not scared (despite the fact that you’re probably bigger than her), and you lick her fingers when she gently pats your nose. You like her laugh: it’s sweet and refreshing like spring rain.

She pulls you into a hug and with your ears pressed up against her small chest you hear her heart beat faintly in her ribcage, an uneven staccato rhythm. You know there’s something wrong with that and you immediately know that your new job now with this family will be to look after her, to protect her, to make sure her laugh remains soft and clear.


10:55 a.m.

They’re all gathered around the car in front of the adoption center as Jade gives you a couple one last hugs, and you can hear the flat monotone of Dave’s voice as he hands over your bag of belongings to your new family. Jade isn’t crying this time, at least, and she seems pretty happy for the most part. She’s always had a soft spot for you, and you know this won’t be the last time you’ll see her.

The man and woman help you into the backseat right next to Roxy, who promptly snuggles against you. Dave and Jade are still there, saying some last minute stuff to the adults and you lift your head again, feeling something resting in front of your face. You sniff it, smelling apples and dry heat and you realize it’s Dave’s hand.

“See you on the flipside, dawg.”

You grin wide and bump your muzzle against his fist.