bigapplesauce | Happiness is a Warm Puppy [Closed]

Daine's a little tired after the unexpected interruption of her sleep earlier that morning, but only a little. The prospect of rehoming a stray with Peeta had put a smile on her face as she'd fallen back to sleep, and it was still there when she woke. She'd gone about getting breakfast and heading out on her morning rounds with a spring in her step, half her focus on the strays she knows, and which one might do best with Peeta.

It's not an easy decision, if only because she can only pick one (at least for now), and that means not picking dozens. Granted, since her arrival in Manhattan, she's been doing her best for all the strays. Even the ones she hasn't found homes for have her, which means they're better fed and healthier than they would be otherwise. Still, it's hard to choose.

In the end, Daine singles out a younger dog - still a puppy, really - who hasn't been a stray for very long and is least comfortable with it. It feels vaguely unfair to the rest of the strays, but she hopes they'll understand and she knows they'll cope. (Part of what makes dealing with them so painful is how dratted accepting dogs can be.) She clips a leash on the gangly little dog, who hasn't yet grown into her paws or her ears, and heads for the Sheep Meadow, sending Peeta a text along the way. That's as good a place to meet as any, Daine figures.

Is he nice? the dog asks, gazing hopefully up at Daine. She isn't leash trained, far as Daine can tell, but she sticks close without being asked. Is he going to keep me?

He's very nice, Daine reassures her. And I hope so. He's excited to meet you. He'd been excited by the idea before, anyway, so it seems fair to say.

They beat Peeta to the Sheep Meadow, unsurprisingly, but it can't hurt to have some extra time for Daine to sit in the shade and burn off some of the young dog's energy by tossing twigs for her. She keeps half an eye out for Peeta as they play, and tries to answer the dog's numerous questions about Peeta without getting her hopes up too high. Truth be told, Daine's a little nervous that a puppy might be too much for Peeta to take on, this being his first dog and all, but she keeps a tight lid on it lest the dog pick up on it.

Peeta will probably love her, and everything will be fine.

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"Of course. It isn't like you could avoid me." He means it to be teasing, but he trails off a little at the end, thinking of their recently-mended rift. "And I'm sure Sarge and Molly will like having the playmate," he adds, as casually as he can, running a hand down the puppy's back.

He wonders how much Daine actually has to translate - he's never had a problem communicating with any of the animals he's encountered with her. But to be fair, he was with Daine. For all he knows, he could have been talking gibberish and Daine had the decently to translate it into something intelligible. The thought triggers his nerves again, but only a little. He'll be fine.

He returns Daine's smile, but frowns slightly when she mentions the puppy's reticence to give her name. "I want to call her" - he cuts off and shifts his gaze to the puppy - "I want to call you by your name."

Daine glances down when he mentions her avoiding him. Even in jest, it hits a bit too close to home, and she picks self-consciously at the grass until he mercifully changes the subject. "They will," she agrees, deliberately not thinking about how they miss playdates with Scout. They'll probably be a good influence, too (well, Molly will, at least).

The puppy cants her head, one overlarge ear flopping onto the crown of her head like an oddly-shaped hat. "She doesn't understand," Daine translates. "Or--no, that's not quite right. She doesn't..." Daine sighs, lowering her voice a little, "she doesn't want to keep the name she got from folk who abandoned her."

"Oh." Peeta's hand goes still on the puppy's back. He hadn't thought of it that way. In fact, he'd sort of expected that the animals named themselves. He looks down at the puppy with sympathy in his eyes.

"Maybe we can think of a name together. All of us," he adds throwing a glance and a small smile toward Daine.

Most animals do name themselves, but dogs are a bit different - too bound up with humans to think of themselves, first. The only way Daine could imagine a dog naming its young - or itself - is if there wasn't a two-legger in the picture at all.

"Well," she says, her tone shifting into a storytelling cadence as she looks down at the puppy, "if we were a wolf pack, a silly little pup such as yourself wouldn't get a name until you were old enough to have earned it." Puppies have to do some growing before littermates start to really distinguish themselves from one another.

This puppy rolls onto her side and bats at Daine with her paws, letting out a little whine of objection. Of course she's distinguished.

Now that he has to think about names, Peeta's at a loss. The first ones that come to mind are the ones from home, but he can't imagine calling something like "Plutarch" across the park. Even for Manhattan, most Panem names would be unusual, and he would have trouble explaining where they came from to anyone who asked. And people would ask.

He's picking at the grass, running through the non-Panem names he knows, when Daine mentions wolf packs. For some reason, the thought triggers something in him. He remembers a locket, and golden bracelets.

The puppy turns her attentions on him, rolling to her feet in order to lick at his chin again. He gently pushes on her back to get her to sit and is only a little surprised when she promptly responds by plonking down. Daine wasn't wrong to say that she's eager to please. She manages to stay sitting when he removes his hand, even though her tail is wagging so hard her entire body quivers. She looks up at Peeta like he is the best thing in the world and the name falls out of him before he really thinks about it.

"Effie."

Daine grins. She's heard that name before, and always thought it was one of the cuter names from Peeta's realm. And it's short, and ends on an 'ee' sort of sound. Dogs like that.

Effie, in particular, loves it. It's a good name! she says, glancing between Daine and Peeta with a broad grin. It's the best name!

"She loves it," Daine says, in case Peeta hasn't figured that out already from the puppy's enthusiastic response.

Before Peeta has a chance to backtrack or reconsider, both Daine and the puppy - Effie now, he supposes - are grinning at him. For a moment, he hesitates, wondering if this is really the right thing to do. Does he really want the constant reminder of home with him all the time? And is it fair to burden the puppy with a name that already carries so much weight?

But then Effie edges closer to him, unable to sit still any longer, and places a paw on his leg. She's still giving him that big puppy grin, waiting for him to confirm her new name. He looks at her, so eager and happy, and all his worries about the name fade away.

"Me, too," he says, smiling and giving her ears a ruffle. "Hi, Effie."

Daine watches the two of them, her smile softening. They'll be so good for each other, and even though she was fair certain things would work out, it's still a tremendous relief to be proven right.

"Well," she says as she picks up the trailing end of Effie's leash and holds it out to Peeta, "I s'pose this is yours, now. She does well enough on a leash because she likes to stick close, but she'll need some training on it once she gets bolder." She gives him an encouraging smile. "But she's smart, and she'll learn quick."

Happiness is a Warm Puppy [Closed]

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