(2015-11-19) Pups and Trust
Pups and Trust
Summary: Isa and Bob have a furry encounter.
Date: November 19th. 2015
Related: None
Players:
isabeau..bob..

Isabeau sighed, the bay stallion at her side snorting softly as she held the wriggling puppy in her jacket, a soft yip barking out. "Can't leave him out here in the rain Bandit, maybe we can trade him." As the pair walked down pine street away from the petting zoo. Her rifle is slung over the other shoulder, the brim of her hat pulled down against the rain. It's early yet, not that the sun gives much sign through the miserable drizzle.

Bob may insist, quite often and to everyone's dismay, that they shouldn't go out alone into the area until they've properly secured things…But here he is, alone. Bob's a big believer in "Do as I say, not as I do."

And so his slow paced walk towards the petting zoo and past an abandoned old car leads him to a veritable cash of…well crap. He sighs as he pulls a dirty gym bag out of the back of the car and peers inside. Dog collar…check. Trucker hat…Oooh. He pulls off his own hat that's starting to fade and puts the trucker cap on. Nice and hickish. Just how Bob likes it.

Finally he pulls out a halloween mask and frowns, shoving it back into the bag, and dropping his faded blue cap on the ground in the process. While picking it up, the man finds his hand shoved into the midst of a fire ant bed. With several choice curse words, Bob stomps at the ant bed after retracting his hand, grasping it at the wrist.

"Son of a…" Bob begins, eyeing the swarm of fire ants coming out of their bed. He takes several quick, long strides away from it and back towards the road, "If I had a fuckin' flame thrower, you little shits wouldn't be so quick to get uppity." Ants are obviously scared of flame throwers. Also boots. His current path will take him towards the woman and her horse.

You say, "If you'd had a flame thrower, or at the very least a welding torch, I can think of a few dozen better uses." Isabeau calls, as she leads the horse behind her, warily. Between the reins and the puppy she can't exactly reach for her pistol. "You with that bunch of survivors from the apartments?." The wriggling little beast in her jacket might make her quite a bit less intimidating than she otherwise might be,"

"If you'd had a flame thrower, or at the very least a welding torch, I can think of a few dozen better uses," Isabeau calls, as she leads the horse behind her, warily. Between the reins and the puppy, she can't exactly reach for her pistol. "You with that bunch of survivors from the apartments?" The wriggling little beast in her jacket might make her quite a bit less intimidating than she otherwise might be, but that look she fixes him with is no less cautious.

Bob is not burdened by an adorable puppy, and his hand is quick to snake down to the butt of his large revolver. His holster and belt are standard police issue from the looks of them. Bob turns, gun half drawn out of his holster as he does and he eyes the woman, not drawing the rest of the way. "Might be better, but I was in the heat of battle with them ants…Can't hold back in the heat of battle." Bob replies with a straight face. Slowly he slips the gun the rest of the way back into the holster, but his hand stays on it.

"Yeah, I'm with them." he offers oh so helpfully. A glance is cast around her now. The immediate threat of fire ants put aside, he's scanning for an ambush or…well anything else really.

"You have me at a disadvantage," Isabeau replies, squaring herself between the horse and the man with the gun. "But I was told you folks were on the level, not that anybody believes promises from strangers these days." She looks to him, the gun, and up at the still falling rain.

With a sniff, "Not that I am not a fan of old western showdowns, but this rain will soak us both through. I've got a camp set up in the train yard, or you probably know a few places where we might be able to duck under an awning or something."

Bob considers that a moment, his clothing at least somewhat suited to the rain. Or the cold. Mostly the cold. Still, suited to the rain and water proof are two different things. A nod is offered finally, "Alright…If you want to go to your camp, I'm fine with that. Mighty trusting of ya. I won't steal from you or harm you unless you try something. You got my word on that." And to show his good faith, he takes his hand off the gun.

"Aint much around the zoo, need to go back up the road a ways to find any real shelter. Might as well go back to the apartments at that point." Bob offers and shrugs, "Choice is yours."

"Don't mistake it for trust, but I'm not stupid, you could have shot me just now, stolen my horse and weapons. You holstered your weapon." She notes with a soft exhale. "If you do try, your life is forfeit." She tilts her head, "I think we think quite differently about shelter, but there're too many dead bodies around there to want to settle in, even if it's more suited to my needs." She nods and makes to follow the man.

A grin forms on Bob's features, "Good." A beat pause and he eyes the woman, "My life is forfeit, eh?" He shrugs, "Gettin too old for all this shit anyway." He nods his head off towards the exit from the zoo towards the apartments, "This way then." And so he starts to walk towards Pine Street, away from the zoo.

He looks over his shoulder as he begins walking, "Nice horse there…" a beat pause, "And the pup. Where'd you find it?" While his hand isn't on his gun, he doesn't exactly look at ease, since she's behind him. His head is turned just enough to keep her in his peripheral vision at all times.

There's a flash of her teeth in a smile at the words ''too-old''. "Had six when I left home, lost three of them when bandits separated me from the Tinkers. Lost a fair chunk of my gear with them." She says for the horses, "This guy was nosing around a dead body back there." Tipping her head in the direction of the zoo. She does her best to stay where he can see her as the wriggling beast settles. "Well he might be a she, haven't had a chance to give him a proper once over. I was a vet in another life."

"Shit, aint seen a pup in a long while now. Had a dog back before I met up with these folks…" Bob replies nodding towards the village, "Good huntin' dog. Never flinched at gun fire…" he trails off and makes his way onto Pine St. "Bandits took out my whole group back then. I headed east till I met these folks."

A glance is passed over his shoulder again and a slow nod, a show of appreciation for her attempts to keep in his field of vision. "Name's Bob…I was a Sheriff once upon a time…"

"So, a vet? You do a lot of shootin in between carin fer animals?" Bob inquires, looking back towards the street once more…mostly.

"Sort of? Dad was a crazy doomsday prepper, which was why mom moved halfway around the world to get away from him. When I moved back to the states, we'd go on camping trips and hunt our own food." She casts a look-down at the pup in her jacket. "Don't suppose you'd be willing to look after this little guy would you? I've got enough trouble on my hands trying to stable three horses."

That there is an act of kindness…a self-serving act of kindness, but an act of kindness none the less. Those aren't so common anymore. Bob slows a bit, turning to look at the Vet with a quirked brow. He looks to the pup for a moment and turns to face her more fully. He reaches a hand out, slowly towards the puppy, eyeing the woman. The mutt gets a longer glance, "Looks like its got some shepherd and lab in it…Figure it'll hunt?"

"If it takes to me, I'll keep it safe." He wasn't ever going to say no, but he can't just appear to want it. That would be weakness.

One of those ears flops as his face pokes out of the jacket. Big brown eyes focusing on the man, and he sniffs before beginning to give those fingers a bath.

"Don't let pedigree's fool you, some breeds might be more suited to one thing or another, but most of it comes down to training. He'll probably make one hell of a little guard dog too with the right training. " She lets go of the reins to fish the pup out and hand it to the man. A soft smile working its way over her lips as she resumes her claim on bandit's reigns.

"They say you can tell a lot about a man by how he treats his inferiors."

Bob takes the puppy without any hesitation, and quickly brings it into his jacket to get it out of the rain, "Ain't nothin inferior about a good dog." he replies firmly. "Treat em right, they'll stay with you till the end." Which is more than you can say for a lot of people really. He scratches the pup behind the ears and then glances skyward, "Alright, lets get you out of this rain, Miss…?" he looks to her now for her name.

Of course, he only does that for a moment before he starts leading the way again.

Isabeau grins broadly then, satisfied with leaving the little beast in the man's care. "Isabeau." She replies warmly, "The marine mentioned you, you're the leader aren't you, of the refugees. After the one man died." Bandit following in close step behind, "Still seems kind of odd setting up in a city like this. What made you folks pick Stratford?"

A shrug is offered by the man as he walks towards the apartments, "Leader?" he smirks a bit and gives a resigned nod, "Suppose so…After Sonny died…Folk just needed someone to keep em safe. Spent my old life doin it…Guess it makes sense." he seems to just be musing now and lets out a sigh, "Still, Sonny was a real leader. I'm a poor stand-in fer the real thing."

Bob moves off towards 8th Street, nodding in that direction, "We were further northeast for a while. Couldn't survive the winter in that camp. Lotta them Kamo Kids and drones out 'n about. So we scouted out some places south. This one seemed safe…all things considered."

"Eh, I can see why folks would trust you, mate. You live your life doing that kind of work it leaves a mark on you." Moving more at ease now, till alert but more so for danger outside of the old sheriff, than from him.

"Our group was headed for the border, hoped to find a place up in the mountains where but -" Isa shrugs. "Still might be better to scrounge around get a wagon built and keep moving. The suburbs aren't exactly prime territory for livestock. Makes me miss my truck. The problem with a wagon though is it's harder to navigate with one."

Bob gives a noncommittal shrug, "Fair enough I s'pose." is his reply. The puppy tussles around inside his jacket a bit, moving to get more comfortable, but beyond that, it remains quiet enough.

He continues off towards the apartment buildings as he begins to speak again, "Yeah, this isn't forever. But it's enclosed, has good sight lines and we can defend it if need be." he points off towards the buildings, "We could start to cultivate some of the soil too, get some basic crops goin, but that's a long-term problem. Short term we gotta tough out the winter with what we can find and get a plan put together." He'll continue walking towards the apartments at a brisk pace.

Isa rubs at the back of her neck, "Smart move would be moving further south. Might seem like a short term problem but it isn't. Don't imagine you can go, scout, the big cities for those home improvement places, or you could probably strip insulation from the houses." There's a frown, "Nobody's shooting and eating my horses." Because that's a total deal-breaker. "The library might be your friend, though, look into how people survived before."

A chuckle is offered by the Sheriff. He scratches at the beard that's started to form from lack of attention to shaving…for several weeks it would seem. Salt and pepper run through the mostly black hair. He sighs and offers a nod, "If there were only a few of us, it'd make sense. We got too many to keep movin'. Lost a lot of em tryin' to get here."

He stops and looks over his shoulder at the woman, "Eat yer horses? What kinda barbarians you take us fer?" Eat the horses? They aren't that desperate.

Isabeau lifts both brows, "How big is your group? I mean the Tinkers, there were maybe twenty of us. " The thought of more makes her markedly uncomfortable.

There's a sheepish look, "Run across a lot of barbarians. Hard to know if folk are decent or desperate." Isa notes somewhat somberly. "Ran across a lot of them before I met the Tinkers." Following the man with a soft sigh. She surveys the buildings thoughtfully. "Welcome to Suburbia."

Isabeau smiles. "Thanks but maybe another time. I need to stable Bandit still, and I'd rather we do this trust thing slowly." Still, "It was good to meet you, Bob. Bring the pup by the train yard in a few days, I'll give him a proper check up." And with that, she mounts, spurring the stallion in the direction of the main street.

Bob turns and watches Isabeau as she starts off towards the main street. He offers a nod. "Fair enough." And with that, Bob moves off back towards the apartments, keeping the pup dry all the way over.

Scavenging Rolls

1 Human remains
1 Cute Lost Puppy
1 Dog Collar
1 Fire Ant bed (Owie!)
1 Halloween mask
1 Trucker Hat

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