He didn't know how to run.
It'd been bred out of his kind—his breed—so, so long ago; otherwise how could he be of use if he fled when the circumstances grew uncertain? Run. Run forward. Run unwaveringly. That had been his teaching. That had been his guidance. That had been his instinct now, he had no others to rely on. Not the way a wolf did. This realization alone brought alive a thrum of hesitation that settled and soured in his belly. Bogart knew when he was out of his depth but that meant little when he couldn't avoid it.
Ultimately, there remained only one choice and it demanded to be made.
"You're not exactly what I was lookin' for," he called out, breaking the sharp silence. "Mistook your scent for a deer or somethin'!"
Bogart snorted and, albeit tentatively, began to approach, a jovial wag to his tail as he continued, "Hopin' I ain't botherin' ya' or nothin', miss," he said. "Name's Bogart but you can call me Bo if ya fancy the ring of it."
It'd been bred out of his kind—his breed—so, so long ago; otherwise how could he be of use if he fled when the circumstances grew uncertain? Run. Run forward. Run unwaveringly. That had been his teaching. That had been his guidance. That had been his instinct now, he had no others to rely on. Not the way a wolf did. This realization alone brought alive a thrum of hesitation that settled and soured in his belly. Bogart knew when he was out of his depth but that meant little when he couldn't avoid it.
Ultimately, there remained only one choice and it demanded to be made.
"You're not exactly what I was lookin' for," he called out, breaking the sharp silence. "Mistook your scent for a deer or somethin'!"
Bogart snorted and, albeit tentatively, began to approach, a jovial wag to his tail as he continued, "Hopin' I ain't botherin' ya' or nothin', miss," he said. "Name's Bogart but you can call me Bo if ya fancy the ring of it."
