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Slicing out another mat, Don flipped in the pocketknife. “Just a few.”
Quickly, he combed out some more stickers, adding to the pile beside him.
“There,” he mumbled, softly petting the dog’s head. “We can take him out now ‘n hose him down.”
Don slowly rose, keeping his hand down so Bear wouldn’t spook so sudden.
Oleg nodded, standing slowly as well. His face was still the cold, sharp mask he normally wore, but his eyes were soft when he looked at the dog. “Be careful when washing. He bites, you remember.” He dusted off his hands on his pants, though he quickly nestled his fingers in the fuzzy hair on top of his head.
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“Uhuh,” Donny grunted, leading Bear from the trailer. He brushed passed Oleg politely, trying to lead the dog out. He grabbed a bar of soap from his counter, slowly walking down the stairs backwards as to keep his eyes on the pup.
As the dog followed, Don looked up at Oleg.
“I assume you’re helping me, or am I doing this myself?” he laughed.
“I want to help, if you’ll have me.” Oleg nodded, keeping an eye on the dog as well instead of looking at Donny. “Bear is a good dog. He needs good people to take care of him. I am one of those good people.”
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Don gave Oleg a genuine smile. “Yuh sure are, bud. And, yeah. I’m not sure how he’ll react to water.”
Don led the dog over to the spickett at the back of his trailer, taking a small hose from a compartment under the trailer. He hooked it to the spickett, turning the nob and having cold water begin flowing. He took the bar of soap in one hand and the hose in the other.
“Wanna hold him down, or be the one washin?’” Don said with a half-smirk.
Oleg grinned at Don’s agreement.
He crouched down by the spicket, head cocked. “I’ll hold Bear. I like him, but I don’t like him enough for me to put my hands near the face or throat.”
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“Don’t blame you,” Don admitted, slightly nervous himself. He slowly began to rinse the pup. Bear whimpered and shifted, but Oleg’s hold kep him steady. DOn washed him, drenching himself as well. He cooed to the dog, keeping a soft and steady voice to calm the dog. He steered clear of Bear’s face and muzzle, working from the upper back down to the dog’s haunches, then rinsing the paws.
Oleg muttered encouraging words to Bear, though they were in his native Russian. He gently patted the dog’s head when they were done, after letting Bear first smell his hands. “There. Clean. A good, clean dog.” He nodded to himself, seemingly proud of his idea to bathe Bear.
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“Wet,” Don muttered, either explaining the dog’s state or his own. His clothes were soaking, but he didn’t necessarily care.
“Aye, Bear,” Donny began, putting the hose back. “Better get us some towels, eh?”
He patted the dog and led him slowly back to the trailer. Don quickly dissapeared inside, then walked right out with a towel around his shoulders, and another one in his hands. He slowly dried off the dog, careful to not spook him.
Oleg stood up, stretching his back. “Ah.. I have to go back to my trailer. I have some final cleaning before this evening.“ He took another few
moments to stretch, giving Don a small wave and Bear a small pat. He yawned, his ungraceful form slinking back to the rusty trailer.
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“Alright. Catch you this evenin,’” Don replied, tousling his short umber hair with the towel. He did the same to Bear soon after. Don sat down on one of his steps, giving his best attempt at drying off the dog. When Bear was as dry as he could be, Don lead him back inside, shutting the door behind them. The dog instantly went back to his corner, laying down and looking absolutely exhausted. Don didn’t blame it— it had been a stressful day for Bear.
Don took up his position in his neatly made bed, putting his hands behind his head and crossing his legs over one another.
From Oleg’s trailer, the sound of a broom sweeping furiously could be heard, even inside. There were a few angered Russian words, followed by more sweeping sounds and what sounded like a yowling cat.
He dropped the broom by the front door, shutting all of his windows. It made the place unbearably stuffy, but at least no more stray cats would be getting in. He finished putting everything in its rightful place for travel- everything was stored away safely, especially the rifles he used during shows. Oleg crashed onto his bed, rubbing his face with a hand and sighing.
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Don had fully fallen asleep, as did Bear. The dog upkept his place in the corner near Don’s bed, and the man had crashed almost instantly. His back still hurt from falling off the roof that morning, but asleep he could only feel it when he rolled over. His hands spread wide and his legs askew, he was tossed into a light slumber.
On the other hand, Oleg couldn’t find himself asleep. He simply stared up at the ceiling, the back of his hand resting on his forehead. Outside, a light shower of rain began to pitter down. It was skier a passing shower, of course, but the sounds were enough to lull Oleg off to sleep without a fuss.
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The sound of whimpers shook Donny from his sleep, and he tiredly shifted his gaze to Bear curled up in the corner. The rain on the metal roof was loud— clearly Bear thought so. His grey form was shaking slightly.
“C’mere bud,” Don said gently, letting his hand fall. His voice was raspy from sleep, but he tried his best to sound comforting. The dog, with tail between legs, skittered over to Donny’s hand. It laid down there, Don’s hand still resting on its back.
(Should we TS to that evening, or wait for Unseelie?)
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(Your choice, really)
(Ack, maybe we just TS, unless you have any ideas leading until then)
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(Not necessarily. We can ts)
Oleg had awoken an hour or two prior, but he didn’t leave his trailer until he saw the sun begin to sink lower in the sky. He hopped out of the door, making his way to the rough center of the trailer area. The space was normally cleared, though now it was full of other sideshow acts who were all coordinating how things would travel.
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Don was already out, rolling on the stretcher below his trailer, his tools scattered beside him. Bear was asleep under the trailer next to him, his ears perking occasionally to the sound of Donny cussing out the grease on his hands. He was working on finishing touches to the front wheel, seeing if anything could be done about the way it rolled his trailer unevenly.
