"I'm sorry," he apologized to the woman as he moved to steady Gold. "We'll be going. Have a good day!"
Before Marian could say anything else, Archie started guiding the other man.
In his head, he was going through the basic treatment steps for shock and scratching out the ones that didn't apply or marking them as a "check when I've got Gold somewhere to rest".
Pongo followed, initially staying poised to attack if Marian tried to pursue and Archie gave the signal. However, once they were a significant distance away, he moved to be closer to Gold, swapping back into "therapy dog" mode.
Archie's eyes darted about the various bodegas and other shops lining the streets. Honestly, being in New York made him extremely uncomfortable and not simply because this was a strange new world. No, his Cursed memories had changed him living in a wagon with his parents to living in an RV with them as they drove around stealing from people. What he was doing now was basically "casing" the area, swiftly assessing each storefront to see if it fit the bill. The tips of his fingers buzzed with memory as he noted everyone was too busy focused on their own agendas or their phones to pay much mind to the trio passing them by. It'd be so easy to lift a few wallets and disappear into the crowd long before their owners even realized they were missing.
He hated cities and Enchanted Forest towns. They were target-rich environments that his bad blood was always eager to take advantage of. His Cursed memories of his time at Stanforth had him at times shivering with the itch to make his life just a little easier by "borrowing" from the more well-off students or city residents. He wasn't a kleptomaniac (he didn't fit the criteria for it), but when you were raised since childhood to be a thief, some of the old habits would creep back in. Like an alcoholic being sober for years but having the sudden urge for a drink after a particularly stressful day.
Days like this when he needed to use even one of those old skills while stressed always brought the itch back.
He took a calming breath as he finally spied a little cafe with outdoor seating. That would work. He guided Gold into a seat and gave him Pongo's leash.
"Hold onto him for me. Don't think they'll like it if we bring him inside. Besides, don't want to tempt fate with all the goodies in there."
Pongo huffed indignantly as he put his head in Gold's lap. As if he'd do something like that! The nerve!
no subject
Before Marian could say anything else, Archie started guiding the other man.
In his head, he was going through the basic treatment steps for shock and scratching out the ones that didn't apply or marking them as a "check when I've got Gold somewhere to rest".
Pongo followed, initially staying poised to attack if Marian tried to pursue and Archie gave the signal. However, once they were a significant distance away, he moved to be closer to Gold, swapping back into "therapy dog" mode.
Archie's eyes darted about the various bodegas and other shops lining the streets. Honestly, being in New York made him extremely uncomfortable and not simply because this was a strange new world. No, his Cursed memories had changed him living in a wagon with his parents to living in an RV with them as they drove around stealing from people. What he was doing now was basically "casing" the area, swiftly assessing each storefront to see if it fit the bill. The tips of his fingers buzzed with memory as he noted everyone was too busy focused on their own agendas or their phones to pay much mind to the trio passing them by. It'd be so easy to lift a few wallets and disappear into the crowd long before their owners even realized they were missing.
He hated cities and Enchanted Forest towns. They were target-rich environments that his bad blood was always eager to take advantage of. His Cursed memories of his time at Stanforth had him at times shivering with the itch to make his life just a little easier by "borrowing" from the more well-off students or city residents. He wasn't a kleptomaniac (he didn't fit the criteria for it), but when you were raised since childhood to be a thief, some of the old habits would creep back in. Like an alcoholic being sober for years but having the sudden urge for a drink after a particularly stressful day.
Days like this when he needed to use even one of those old skills while stressed always brought the itch back.
He took a calming breath as he finally spied a little cafe with outdoor seating. That would work. He guided Gold into a seat and gave him Pongo's leash.
"Hold onto him for me. Don't think they'll like it if we bring him inside. Besides, don't want to tempt fate with all the goodies in there."
Pongo huffed indignantly as he put his head in Gold's lap. As if he'd do something like that! The nerve!