Em's walking. Dark hair, jeans, purple sweater. Young, midtwenties.

She's prone to low blood pressure. She keeps extra warm.

It's snowing lightly, and she's just wandering along, not thinking about much. It's her day off, there's nothing much to do, the boyfriend isn't talking today. Might as well go out and do something with her time.

Maybe she'll find something cheap enough to justify buying - unlikely, however. She's a natural miser.

Darien took Elm street mainly because it was the quickest and shortest path between his clinic and his appartment and the shorter walk was much easier on Howler. He also took this path because he liked to watch people as much as Holwer liked to be around people.

It might seem odd at first to see a grown man in blue jeans and a button down shirt with it's sleeves folded back professionally pulling a little red wagon behind him. But then you might spot the knee-high black dog trotting along behind the wagon. The trot was off, due to a missing leg, and the breed was a mix, a mutt.

Howler was named such for a very good reason. The dog stopped upon several kids surrounding him and let out a long, high, gleeful howl and began wagging his curly tail. Darien turned to look and in doing so ran right into someone and stumbled. As he gained his balance back and Howler continued to how and bark out his joy, Darien launched into a scattered apology.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't watching..." and the like.

"Oh, it's okay, I'm fine, I-"

Doggie!

Doggie doggie doggie!

"Is that dog yours?" She hasn't even looked at the man who ran into her. All her attention's on the dog.

She's a dog person. Seriously.

So is he.

And now he's grinning like a fool, a prideful fool but a fool nevertheless, all thoughts of having nearly run her over gone. He turned and looked at the howling beast now surounded by three kids and their parents trying to herd them away from the noisy mutt. His bark resembled a Husky's yelp.

"Yeah. Howler. Come."

And the three-legged hound pushed his way through the crowd, abandoning his yelping to circle him once and press his nose into Darien's hand.

"Sit." Howler sat. Show off. Both of them.

"His name's Howler? He's a boy?" She's knelt, offering fingers to sniff.

"He's beautiful."

To a strange young lady's standards of beauty, anyway.

"Yes he is." Beautiful and a male he means. Howler stretched his neck out and sniffed her hand, scooting forward on his behind while continuing to obey his master command to sit. But he scoot closer still and nuzzled his muzzle into her hand.

"I found him when he was a puppy." Unrequired information. He dropped his hand to scratch Howler's neck.

"Wow... how old is he now?" And she's scratching the pup behind the ears, because yaydogs.

And absently, still concentrating on the dog, she adds. "And, I'm Em." Wouldn't want to remain nameless to the random man on the street, hm?

But then, she isn't a paranoid young lady. He has a dog. That's good enough assurance of trustworthiness for her.

"Four and a half years." Howler curled his neck towards both hands, arching for the best possible scratch and in a matter of moments his only hind leg is pounding the ground and he's tipping awkwardly sideways because he hasn't got the balance of the other leg.

"I'm Darien," he replied, but their names didn't matter. Right? Howler's the man...er...dog of the hour. "Nice to meet you." He held out his free hand, a very steady hand, doctor's hands. Or rather, vet.

Her shaking hand is still occupied with ear-scratching, so this is a singularly awkward handshake, and she laughs lightly. "I don't think that worked very well...."

And she's distracted once more by the tremendous cuteness of the doggie.

"Worked just fine." He smiled when Howler finally tipped off balance and feel over on his side. The dog was completely unphased by this as he rolled to his back and stuck out all three legs for his belly to be scratched.

"Seems he likes you," and everyone else in the living world with fingers willing scratch him.

Ouuuuuu, dog belly.

For rubbing!

Yay!

Em is such a little girl around doggies.

Have we mentioned yay doggies yet?

Yes. Yes we have.

"Such a good boy. Such a good boy."

Yes, she's talking to the dog.

"How'd he lose the leg?" Poor doggie. Aww. Needs even more bellyrubs.

"I amputated it. He was hit by something and it was either loose it or die trying to keep it." He'd found the little mixed pup in a ditch. He tilted the handle to the wagon back until it was standing up against the wagon itself. The wagon was lined with a pillow, obviously is was for the comfort of the pooch.

Buuuurrrrrr a long sound that was most likely the dog's form of a purr and was definatly a pleased sound. Foot thump. Tail wag.

"Ow," she comments.

And she thinks of something. "Oh, I'm sorry - were you on your way somewhere? I don't want to make you late for anything."

Even if the doggy is pretty.

Pause again. "You amputated?" Not many people had that kind of technical knowledge of animal limb... chopping-off. Stuff. Yeah.

"Just home. I'm in no hurry. I doubt I could pry him off the ground without a spatula at this point anyways." He smiled and toed Howler on the hind end with his shoe.

His eyes came back to her at her questioning tone.

"Uh, yes. I did. I uh...I'm a vet. I work at that clinic off of Elm street two blocks back. Dr. D.J. Carter's Kennels and Clinic?"