He offers a shrug as Ventus walks on, as he hobbles over to join Winston under the awning, reaching down to offer a scratch behind the ear.
"You think I was being a bit hard on them?"
The growlithe offers a little yelp, and glances up at him.
"So. What do you think of this bunch?"
The look Winston gives him is telling. Clearly an "I'd tell you if I could talk, boss."
"Yeah, yeah smartass." He exhales deeply. "They seem like good enough people. If unseasoned. What concerns me is I'm not the only screwed up one here, and we both know it. As the Doc said, 'demons'. Plus the fact that I'm talking to a dog again."
The bark of indignation again.
"But yeah. You ready to go?" He adjusts his walking stick idly, feeling it's leaden weight in his hand and wishing he had the reassuring heft of his old baton. "Been a while since we've been in an actual fight, little guy. And no, you chasing that Meowth down a street doesn't count. Real Pokes. Real fights. Don't like the idea of sending you into harms way, little guy, but job's a job and we need to keep you in kibble somehow."
He glances out at the storm, waiting for it to thin. Despite the sodden downpour, the silhouette of the soaking wet officer is still clearly visible in the distance, and there is an involuntary shudder of recognition.
Remember Man as you go by
As you are now so once was I...
"When this stops, we'll be ready." He mutters darkly to himself. "We'll be ready."
"You think I was being a bit hard on them?"
The growlithe offers a little yelp, and glances up at him.
"So. What do you think of this bunch?"
The look Winston gives him is telling. Clearly an "I'd tell you if I could talk, boss."
"Yeah, yeah smartass." He exhales deeply. "They seem like good enough people. If unseasoned. What concerns me is I'm not the only screwed up one here, and we both know it. As the Doc said, 'demons'. Plus the fact that I'm talking to a dog again."
The bark of indignation again.
"But yeah. You ready to go?" He adjusts his walking stick idly, feeling it's leaden weight in his hand and wishing he had the reassuring heft of his old baton. "Been a while since we've been in an actual fight, little guy. And no, you chasing that Meowth down a street doesn't count. Real Pokes. Real fights. Don't like the idea of sending you into harms way, little guy, but job's a job and we need to keep you in kibble somehow."
He glances out at the storm, waiting for it to thin. Despite the sodden downpour, the silhouette of the soaking wet officer is still clearly visible in the distance, and there is an involuntary shudder of recognition.
Remember Man as you go by
As you are now so once was I...
"When this stops, we'll be ready." He mutters darkly to himself. "We'll be ready."
