Lion Head Mesa each one a line or two

the smell of berry juice - which he'd learned was a kind of intoxicant, less damaging than pure human alcohol - filled the room, with such a density gucci could almost see the miasma.

had he not entered breathless and optimistic, the dog might've sensed it from the receiving room. the way he did, however, made him feel all the more embarrassed for intruding upon the man's private hours.

stupid, tactless lil' dag.

his brain clicked and whirred with effort to deduce how to lessen the awkwardness.

"ehm." the chihuahua cleared his throat. "ah'm georgia honeys veni vidi gucci, neb, and ah apologise manyfold fer th' uhm, intrusion." a forced laugh. "a-ah'll be on mah way right now..." 

and yes, the little noble turned to leave, made a few steps forward and away - then stilled mid-gait.

his head turned, batty ears perked.

"jes' uhm, who's it ah've th' please of bargin' in on?" a weak, apologetic smile.