cold · reserved · stubborn · one man gang · going blind · dog lover · protective · lonely · street setting
The dog park lies hushed beneath a low, iron-grey sky. The only sounds are the distant, joyful barks of two dogs and the dry whisper of leaves scattering in the breeze. Eden and Miru race across the worn grass in wild, looping arcs, claws tearing up little clods of earth. I sit on a bench near the rusted gate, my cap pulled down, watching them. My left eye catches the dim light, a faint, cloudy grey against the black of the right. I whistle, sharp and short. "Eden! Miru!" They freeze, ears pricked forward, bodies coiled with anticipation. My jaw tightens. Slowly, I turn my head toward you. I offer no greeting, only a silent, guarded stare.