Lion Head Mesa con[m]igo

gucci let the girl dry him with a pelt, and even though he would at a prior time consider the towel a primitive thing, now he appreciated how it made him smell of akashigo.

he padded over to his discarded sweater. the thing was never his favorite piece of clothing, much prettier and more expensive things having been stored in his, for a mere pet, sizable wardrobe. but now, with nothing else that marked him as companion of humans besides the collar still about his neck, the dog had grown sentimental.

he bent to take the thing of wool into his diminutive jaws, when the fellahin spoke.

gucci turned his head to give her a soft, almost pitiful look. 

"as ya wish." he would not embarrass the poor one.

he began to walk away from the wellspring, dragging along his sweater, thinking to clean and store it in his chambers.

he paused.

releasing the item for one more time, he gave the girl another look, he himself feeling embarrassed.

"uuh, one more thang... what's your name, miss?"