Broken Boulder ne t’enfermes pas dans ta chambre

In a way, he felt bad for the pups at the Sanctuary. Their mother was an irredeemable bitch, and their father was in love with another man. It wasn't their fault that they had been born into such poor circumstances; it had just happened. At the same time, though, they were well cared for--fed and clean and all that jazz--and they had each other. He knew all too well the power of having a sibling by your side. You could withstand anything, with that kind of alliance.

A distinctively childlike cry shivered through the rainy air as he was walking along, disturbing him from his thoughts. Speak of the devil. Grimacing, Zamael trotted that way, kicking up puddles as he went. One of the girls--couldn't remember her name--was lying on the ground, wailing. Her face and her leg was bleeding; fucking hell, what had she gotten into?

"Hey, shhh," Zamael said quietly, pulling to a halt and crouching down beside her. "You're okay, kid, don't worry. I'll patch that up for you. Can you get up?" He stared dubiously down at the pup, wondering if she was indeed capable, or if she had, like, broken her leg or something. Sucking in a breath through his teeth, he leans back to sit on his haunches, waiting for her response.