#and I know they can train service dogs for that

[the-worms-in-your-bones]

What if I got a service dog, what then (<- guy who definitely can’t afford a service dog)

[mbmbimbo]

my little sisters getting a dog for psychiatric service dog reasons, and i managed to convince her to pick a charles spaniel >:3 like okay im not really a dog person but if we're gonna have a dog its gonna be one of those. im so hyped. even though she wont name him after dark souls characters...

ill post pics when we get him settled in next week. hes so cute i could scream

[sergle]

Honestly I love goldens they are like the white bread of dog breeds. Basic bitch (complimentary)

NO NO, SAY IT, UR NOT WRONG!!! there's a reason why they're literally the Basic Upperclass White People Dog. the Two Kids And An InGround Pool Dog. They're the AP flour of dog. They become the shape of whatever mold you put them in.

[horsesource]

The American service dog and ESA conversations say a lot about this country’s animal/human relations. The dog is medical equipment, regardless of how well-trained she is? Full access. The dog is not medical equipment, regardless of how well-trained she is? Get outta here! Seems to reflect a training crisis too, you see so many people with service dogs decrying Fake Service Dogs

[scandalousscarlet83]

Dumped by phone call out of nowhere after 9 months. I'm completely shocked and absolutely blindsided. I really thought he was the one.

[elvenferretots]

Maybe the problem isn't more places being dog-friendly. Maybe the problem is that American dogs are chronically ungroomed and unexercised. Maybe the problem is that dogs who are brought in public should be kept in training classes or competitions longterm to maintain their training and emotional wellbeing. Maybe the problem is that dogs need to have trained public access skills to be safe and considerate to bring in public.

The problem is not businesses allowing dogs (grocery stores and indoor restaurants can't legally be dog friendly, so that's a straw man argument); but that dog owners have a huge problem with selecting, caring for, and training their dogs to the standards of the society we live in.

[800-dick-pics]

kilos should be 50 bucks in the us too :'c

[fayeandknight]

Took Forte to train outside the Ren Faire today.

He was a little overwhelmed coming right out of the car. Even though we got there a half hour before it opens there were still a ton of people in the lot and half of them were changing into costumes. So I alternated between letting him just take it and rewarding for check ins and simple obedience (I use sit, down, sit, spin, treat a lot) to gauge his readiness to work.

We stayed in the parking lot for about 10 minutes before he was ready. He kept pace with me nicely on the walk from the lot to the actual fair grounds. I was pleased with him ignoring the crowds around us given that we had to pass really close to others at times.

We saw some really cool costumes including a person with a big mushroom hat, someone carrying a prop sword that was bigger than me, and a stroller decked out in bells to look like a fairy wagon.

He alerted to a hr spike and did DPT across the street from the entrance. There was a huge crowd waiting at the entrance and there was a lively opening speech complete with loud cheering. And while he was interested/clearly watching he didn't stop tasking.

At one point a pair of character actors dressed as royal guards, each holding a spear, saw on the ground and approached. They stopped a respectful distance away and asked if I was okay. I thanked them and told them my service dog had it covered.

When I was ready we wandered around the area, went over a wooden bridge that squeaked, and did more simple obedience. Then we went back down the path to the car for a water break. It was more crowded now and we were going against the flow of foot traffic, but he still kept in a loose heel and paid no mind to the people.

After getting water we went back up towards the entrance. I stopped by the trail end and put him in a relaxed down so he could practice being settled near heavy foot traffic. He checked in consistently and was paid for it.

As I was debating going all the way to the entrance or calling it a day, he did get startled. Two people, each pushing a stroller, came down the hill towards us while squealing at the top of their lungs. I don't think they even noticed Forte until he popped up and barked once. They were most likely trying to entertain the kids in said stroller.

He recovered quickly and laid back down on his own but I took that as a sign he about done with the outing. We'd already been out for an hour and a half and it was starting to get too hot out. So we went back to the car. I had another internal debate about putting his cooling vest on and heading back up or just leaving. Part of me didn't want to end on our only bad note and wanted to go back for some pictures.

But ultimately I decided against it. He'd stayed at a calm pace on the walk back and didn't balk at any of the other strollers we passed. So I'm counting it as ending on a good note actually.

Picture of the good boy who is now tired.

[teabookgremlin]

i want a puppy so much

[em0-snail]

Ramblings in tags

[asterdeer]

heres the problem with life: it’s soooo easy to recognize when you done fucked up even in the smallest way but it’s borderline impossible to know when you did something right or good

[nabsthevulture]

Buying dog training books because I want to be as prepared as possible in case I can't find reliable dog training near me

[innocent-until-proven-geeky]

Listen.

LISTEN.

Sometimes there will be dogs in pet friendly store, even if they aren’t pet stores!

If you are allergic to dogs and you see a dog… just walk away. You don’t have to whine about how the dog is going to kill you. You probably shouldn’t keep walking TOWARD the dog!

Seriously, old white men are SO entitled.

[insipid-drivel]

Horses: Since There Seems To Be A Knowledge Gap

I'm going to go ahead and preface this with: I comment pretty regularly on clips and photos featuring horses and horseback riding, often answering questions or providing explanations for how or why certain things are done. I was a stable hand and barrel racer growing up, and during my 11 year tenure on tumblr, Professional Horse Commentary is a very niche, yet very necessary, subject that needs filling. Here are some of the literary and creative gaps I've noticed in well meaning (and very good!) creators trying to portray horses and riding realistically that... well, most of you don't seem to even be aware of, because you wouldn't know unless you worked with horses directly!

Some Of The Most Common Horse + Riding Mistakes I See:

-Anybody can ride any horse if you hold on tight enough/have ridden once before.

Nope. No, no, no, no, aaaaaaaand, no. Horseback riding has, historically, been treated as a life skill taught from surprisingly young ages. It wasn't unusual in the pre-vehicular eras to start teaching children as young as 4 to begin to ride, because horses don't come with airbags, and every horse is different. For most adults, it can take months or years of regular lessons to learn to ride well in the saddle, and that's just riding; not working or practicing a sport.

Furthermore, horses often reject riders they don't know. Unless a horse has been trained like a teaching horse, which is taught to tolerate riders of all skill and experience levels, it will take extreme issue with having some random person try to climb on their back. Royalty, nobility, and the knighted classes are commonly associated with the "having a favorite special horse" trope, because it's true! Just like you can have a particularly special bond with a pet or service animal that verges on parental, the same can apply with horses. Happy horses love their owners/riders, and will straight-up do their best to murder anyone that tries to ride them without permission.

-Horses are stupid/have no personality.

There isn't a more dangerous assumption to make than assuming a horse is stupid. Every horse has a unique personality, with traits that can be consistent between breeds (again, like cat and dog breeds often have distinct behavior traits associated with them), but those traits manifest differently from animal to animal.

My mother had an Arabian horse, Zipper, that hated being kicked as a signal to gallop. One day, her mom and stepdad had a particularly unpleasant visitor; an older gentleman that insisted on riding Zipper, but refused to listen to my mother's warnings never to kick him. "Kicking" constitutes hitting the horse's side(s) with your heels, whether you have spurs on or not. Most horses only need a gentle squeeze to know what you want them to do.

Anyway, Zipper made eye-contact with my mom, asking for permission. He understood what she meant when she nodded at him. He proceeded to give this asshole of a rider road rash on the side of the paddock fence and sent him to the emergency room. He wouldn't have done it if he didn't have the permission from the rider he respected, and was intelligent enough to ask, "mind if I teach this guy a lesson?" with his eyes, and understand, "Go for it, buddy," from my mom in return.

-Riding bareback is possible to do if you hold onto the horse's mane really tight.

Riding a horse bareback (with no saddle, stirrups, or traditional harness around the horse's head) is unbelievably difficult to learn, particularly have testicles and value keeping them. Even professional riders and equestrians find ourselves relying on tack (the stuff you put on a horse to ride it) to stay stable on our horses, even if we've been riding that particular horse for years and have a very positive, trusting relationship.

Horses sweat like people do. The more they run, the more their hair saturates with sweat and makes staying seated on them slippery. Hell, an overworked horse can sweat so heavily that the saddle slips off its back. It's also essential to brush and bathe a horse before it's ridden in order to keep it healthier, so their hair is often quite slick from either being very clean or very damp. In order to ride like that, you have to develop the ability to synchronize your entire body's rhythm's with the rhythm of the horse's body beneath you, and quite literally move as one. Without stirrups, most people can't do it, and some people can never master bareback riding no matter how many years they spend trying to learn.

-You can be distracted and make casual conversation while a horse is standing untethered in the middle of a barn or field.

At every barn I've ever worked at, it's been standard practice with every single horse, regardless of age or temperament, to secure their heads while they're being tacked up or tacked down. The secures for doing this are simple ropes with clips that are designed to attach to the horse's halter (the headwear for a horse that isn't being ridden; they have no bit that goes in the horse's mouth, and no reins for a rider to hold) on metal O rings on either side of the horse's head. This is not distressing to the horse, because we give them plenty of slack to turn their heads and look around comfortably.

The problem with trying to tack up an unrestrained horse while chatting with fellow stable hands or riders is that horses know when you're distracted! And they often try to get away with stuff when they know you're not looking! In a barn, a horse often knows where the food is stored, and will often try to tiptoe off to sneak into the feed room.

Horses that get into the feed room are often at a high risk of dying. While extremely intelligent, they don't have the ability to throw up, and they don't have the ability to tell that their stomach is full and should stop eating. Allowing a horse into a feed/grain room WILL allow it to eat itself to death.

Other common woes stable hands and riders deal with when trying to handle a horse with an unrestrained head is getting bitten! Horses express affection between members of their own herd, and those they consider friends and family, through nibbling and surprisingly rough biting. It's not called "horseplay" for nothing, because during my years working with horses out in the pasture, it wasn't uncommon at all for me to find individuals with bloody bite marks on their withers (that high part on the middle of the back of their shoulders most people instinctively reach for when they try to get up), and on their backsides. I've been love-bitten by horses before, and while flattering, they hurt like hell on fleshy human skin.

So, for the safety of the horse, and everybody else, always make a show of somehow controlling the animal's head when hands-on and on the ground with them.

-Big Horse = War Horse

Startlingly, the opposite is usually the case! Draft and carriage horses, like Percherons and Friesians, were never meant to be used in warfare. Draft horses are usually bred to be extremely even-tempered, hard to spook, and trustworthy around small children and animals. Historically, they're the tractors of the farm if you could afford to upgrade from oxen, and were never built to be fast or agile in a battlefield situation.

More importantly, just because a horse is imposing and huge doesn't make it a good candidate for carrying heavy weights. A real thing that I had to be part of enforcing when I worked at a teaching ranch was a weight limit. Yeah, it felt shitty to tell people they couldn't ride because we didn't have any horses strong enough to carry them due to their weight, but it's a matter of the animal's safety. A big/tall/chonky horse is more likely to be built to pull heavy loads, but not carry them flat on their spines. Horses' muscular power is predominantly in their ability to run and pull things, and too heavy a rider can literally break a horse's spine and force us to euthanize it.

Some of the best war horses out there are from the "hot blood" family. Hot blooded horses are often from dry, hot, arid climates, are very small and slight (such as Arabian horses), and are notoriously fickle and flighty. They're also a lot more likely to paw/bite/kick when spooked, and have even sometimes been historically trained to fight alongside their rider if their rider is dismounted in combat; kicking and rearing to keep other soldiers at a distance.

-Any horse can be ridden if it likes you enough.

Just like it can take a lifetime to learn to ride easily, it can take a lifetime of training for a horse to comfortably take to being ridden or taking part in a job, like pulling a carriage. Much like service animals, horses are typically trained from extremely young ages to be reared into the job that's given to them, and an adult horse with no experience carrying a rider is going to be just as scared as a rider who's never actually ridden a horse.

Just as well, the process of tacking up a horse isn't always the most comfortable experience for the horse. To keep the saddle centered on the horse's back when moving at rough or fast paces, it's essential to tighten the belly strap (cinch) of the saddle as tightly as possible around the horse's belly. For the horse, it's like wearing a tight corset, chafes, and even leaves indents in their skin afterward that they love having rinsed with water and scratched. Some horses will learn to inflate their bellies while you're tightening the cinch so you can't get it as tight as it needs to be, and then exhale when they think you're done tightening it.

When you're working with a horse wearing a bridle, especially one with a bit, it can be a shocking sensory experience to a horse that's never used a bit before. While they lack a set of teeth naturally, so the bit doesn't actually hurt them, imagine having a metal rod shoved in your mouth horizontally! Unless you understand why it's important for the person you care about not dying, you'd be pretty pissed about having to keep it in there!

-Horseback riding isn't exercise.

If you're not using every muscle in your body to ride with, you're not doing it right.

Riding requires every ounce of muscle control you have in your entire body - although this doesn't mean it wasn't realistic for people with fat bodies to stay their weight while also being avid riders; it doesn't mean the muscles aren't there. To stay on the horse, you need to learn how it feels when it moves at different gaits (walk, trot, canter, gallop), how to instruct it to switch leads (dominant legs; essential for precise turning and ease of communication between you and the horse), and not falling off. While good riders look like they're barely moving at all, that's only because they're good riders. They know how to move so seamlessly with the horse, feeling their movements like their own, that they can compensate with their legs and waists to not bounce out of the saddle altogether or slide off to one side. I guarantee if you ride a horse longer than 30 minutes for the first time, your legs alone will barely work and feel like rubber.

-Horses aren't affectionate.

Horses are extraordinarily affectionate toward the right people. As prey animals, they're usually wary of people they don't know, or have only recently met. They also - again, like service animals - have a "work mode" and a "casual mode" depending upon what they're doing at the time. Horses will give kisses like puppies, wiggle their upper lips on your hair/arms to groom you, lean into neck-hugs, and even cuddle in their pasture or stall if it's time to nap and you join them by leaning against their sides. If they see you coming up from afar and are excited to see you, they'll whinny and squeal while galloping to meet you at the gate. They'll deliberately swat you with their tails to tease you, and will often follow you around the pasture if they're allowed to regardless of what you're up to.

-Riding crops are cruel.

Only cruel people use riding crops to hurt their horses. Spurs? I personally object to, because any horse that knows you well doesn't need something sharp jabbing them in the side for emphasis when you're trying to tell them where you want them to go. Crops? Are genuinely harmless tools used for signalling a horse.

I mean, think about it. Why would crops be inherently cruel instruments if you need to trust a horse not to be afraid of you and throw you off when you're riding it?

Crops are best used just to lightly tap on the left or right flank of the horse, and aren't universally used with all forms of riding. You'll mainly see crops used with English riding, and they're just tools for communicating with the horse without needing to speak.

-There's only one way to ride a horse.

Not. At. All. At most teaching ranches, you'll get two options: Western, or English, because they tend to be the most popular for shows and also the most common to find equipment for. English riding uses a thinner, smaller saddle, narrower stirrups, and much thinner bridles. I, personally, didn't like English style riding because I never felt very stable in such a thin saddle with such small stirrups, and didn't start learning until my mid teens. English style riding tends to focus more on your posture and deportment in the saddle, and your ability to show off your stability and apparent immovability on the horse. It was generally just a bit too stiff and formal for me.

Western style riding utilizes heavier bridles, bigger saddles (with the iconic horn on the front), and broader stirrups. Like its name may suggest, Western riding is more about figuring out how to be steady in the saddle while going fast and being mobile with your upper body. Western style riding is generally the style preferred for working-type shows, such as horseback archery, gunning, barrel racing, and even rodeo riding.

-Wealthy horse owners have no relationship with their horses.

This is loosely untrue, but I've seen cases where it is. Basically, horses need to feel like they're working for someone that matters to them in order to behave well with a rider and not get impatient or bored. While it's common for people to board horses at off-property ranches (boarding ranches) for cost and space purposes, it's been historically the truth that having help is usually necessary with horses at some point. What matters is who spends the most time with the animal treating it like a living being, rather than a mode of transport or a tool. There's no harm in stable hands handling the daily upkeep; hay bales and water buckets are heavy, and we're there to profit off the labor you don't want or have the time to do. You get up early to go to work; we get up early to look after your horses. Good owners/boarders visit often and spend as much of their spare time as they can with spending quality work and playtime with their horses. Otherwise, the horses look to the stable hands for emotional support and care.

So, maybe you're writing a knight that doesn't really care much for looking after his horse, but his squire is really dedicated to keeping up with it? There's a better chance of the horse having a more affectionate relationship with the squire thanks to the time the squire spends on looking after it, while the horse is more likely to tolerate the knight that owns it as being a source of discipline if it misbehaves. That doesn't mean the knight is its favorite person. When it comes to horses, their love must be earned, and you can only earn it by spending time with them hands-on.

-Horses can graze anywhere without concern.

This is a mistake that results in a lot of premature deaths! A big part of the cost of owning a horse - even before you buy one - is having the property that will be its pasture assessed for poisonous plants, and having those plants removed from being within the animal's reach. This is an essential part of farm upkeep every year, because horses really can't tell what's toxic and what isn't. One of the reasons it's essential to secure a horse when you aren't riding it is to ensure it only has a very limited range to graze on, and it's your responsibility as the owner/rider to know how to identify dangerous plants and keep your horses away from them.

There's probably more. AMA in my askbox if you have any questions, but that's all for now. Happy writing.

[apollo-zero-one]

My mom is right and I shouldn't take my cat because she wouldn't be happy with the dogs in the new place because she's two and has never met a dog before, and she's too old to adapt and she'll miss her quiet house and she'll change when she meets the kitten and she won't be happy. I have to leave her behind. but I don't know what I'm going to do without her, that cat is my baby and my reason for living half the time, what the fuck am I going to do without my cat? Who's going to come lay in my lap when I'm bawling my eyes out? What's going to snap me out of it when I'm spiraling? She's in my lap right now and the only reason I'm not hurting myself, what am I going to do without her? How am I going to convince myself to go to work if not to provide for her? I just don't know what I'm going to do. I need a new ESA but I would feel so fucking guilty trying to replace my cat, my baby that I raised and trained and love.......

[devil-in-hiding]

On The Run pt 2

By the time the five of you are in the house, you’re soaked through once more, teeth chattering when the cool air of the house hits your skin as Gaz opens the door, holding it open long enough to let the dogs trot in.

“Hey! Shake over there!” He shoos, flinching when Maggie sprays him with her shake off.

“Let’s get you taken care of pretty.” Price murmurs, and you push weakly at his chest, struggling to get down. Your mind is foggy, exhaustion fighting to take over, but there are four strange men now standing in your living room, and that seemed more pressing.

Price grunts, but finally gives in, setting you on your feet, and you put as much distance between yourself and them as you can. “What do you want? What is going on here?” You demand, trying to ignore the shake of your voice.

They glance at each other, having a silent conversation, and you glance towards the stairs. You had an old cell phone, and the service this far out was absolutely shit, but it was a chance-

“We would like a place to stay.” Price’s voice interrupts your thoughts, and your eyes shoot to look at them, and a shocked laugh tumbles past your lips.

“A place to stay? After what just happened? For god’s sake I don’t even know you!” You laugh, slightly hysteric, and Price takes a cautious step towards you, holding up his hands. “We didn’t mean to scare you sweetheart, honest. Didn’t think anyone lived here by the looks of it.” His tone is soft, comforting. He approaches you slowly, and you back away until your back hits the wall.

“How did you even know we were in there?” Ghost speaks this time, eyes trained on your face and you try not to crack under his gaze.

“You spooked Sebastian. In the six years I’ve lived here nothing has ever spooked that horse.” You glare, anger flaring when the four of them laugh. “You think scaring my stallion is funny?”

“No little bird, just…” Ghost trails off, chuckling and you can feel your eye twitch ever so slightly.

“It’s cute how protective you are over some animals.” He finishes, and he can tell his words are winding you up, the crinkle around his eyes indicating he finds this amusing. Bastard.

“They might just be animals to you,” You start, your frustration seeping into your words as you straighten your back. “But when I found this place they were starving and on the brink of death. I worked my ass off to make sure they made it. I worked for their trust after some asshole abandoned them here to fucking die. They are my herd, this is my land!” Your shoulders heave, sucking in a deep breath as you try to calm your racing heart.

They stare at you, quiet and you close your eyes, clenching your fist as you struggle to maintain yourself. “You broke into my barn and scared my animals, held my own knife to my throat and invited yourselves into my home. Why is god's name should I let you stay here?” You ask, opening your eyes to stare them down, and for the first time tonight, they seem to crack under your gaze for once.

“Have you… Do you have any way of hearing the news?” Price questions, wincing and you frown. “The radio when I’m cleaning the barn. Why?”

They hesitate, looking between themselves as they shuffle their feet. Your eyes bounce between them, trying to think back to anything of importance that a reporter has broadcasted as of late.

Missing sheep from a town more than four hours north of you, a four way pile up down one of the highways,a break out at the prison, a wheeler transporting 60,000 gallons of wine tipping near the river…

A break out at the prison.

You freeze, all air leaving your lungs as you stare at them, four wanted criminals standing in your living room. You feel your knees buckle.

They notice your realization, hesitation crossing Price’s face when he notices your stiff figure.

“Please. Let us explain ourselves.” He all but begs, and you feel your hands shaking.

“You are wanted criminals!” You hiss, and they cringe, their previous bravado has disappeared.

“We will explain everything to you, we swear. Just… Please give us a chance.” Soap steps forward this time, big wide eyes trained on you. They’re just as soaked as you are, and in the light of the living room you see the bags under their eyes, the tension in their shoulders. They look exhausted, and not just from this night. There’s a haunted look behind their eyes, and you curse yourself when you feel your heart ache ever so slightly.

You make a noise at the back of your throat, turning to head up the stairs.

“Pretty where are you-“

“You’re soaking my floor. You can explain it to me after I’m out of this damn gown.” You mumble, hearing one of them mumble ‘damn shame’.

“I heard that!”

After a few moments you come back, a box of clothes in hand and they all raise a brow. “Thought you said no one else lived here?” Gaz asks suspiciously when they notice it’s a box of men’s clothes. You roll your eyes, shoving it into his hands.

“They’re my ex-husbands, I took it by mistake when I moved my boxes.” You huff, crossing your arms. It’s your turn to raise a brow at their shocked expressions. “What’s with your faces?”

“What kind of eejit divorces such a gorgeous lass?” Soap asks, and you feel insulted, till you realise he’s not joking. They all look you over, and you feel your face warm at the way their eyes darken. Turning away, you clear your throat, pointing up the stairs.

“The guest room is down the hall, it has a bathroom and towels. Leave your clothes in the tub.” You order, making your way towards your bedroom. You feel the stairs shake as they bound up them, and as they pass, Price give’s your hip a little squeeze and you swat at his hand.

“Thank you pretty.”

“I haven’t said yes yet. You were just ruining my hardwood floors.” You sniff, smacking his hand once more when he doesn’t let go.

“You are testing my patience most of all.”

“You haven’t made us leave though.”

“I can change that very quickly.” You snap, pulling his hand off your side and he takes the opportunity to pull you close, leaning down next to your ear.

“But I don’t think you will, will you sweetheart?” He whispers, and you bite your lip, pushing at his chest. “For god's sake, go change you old perv.” You hiss, wiggling in his grasp and he flashes you a grin before letting you go.

You slip into your room, locking the door before pressing your head against it. What have you gotten yourself into?

You quickly take a hot shower, letting the scalding water bring warmth back to your stiff joints. You towel off quickly, slipping into an oversized hoodie and some old pajama pants.

You can still hear the shower running down the hall when you step out, a boom of thunder sounding in the distance. You slip down to the kitchen, grabbing one of your mugs. You had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

How could you be so foolish as to be letting escaped convicts use your bathroom?! God the feds were probably spread to every point in the world trying to track these men down. You can’t remember much the broadcast had said, just that there were four dangerous men on the run from one of the maximum security prisons a couple of hours away. How on earth did they wind up here?

You’re so lost to your thoughts you don’t hear the stairs creak, staring out into the backyard as you mull things over in your mind.

“‘Ppreciate the clothes lass, loads better!” A cheerful voice spooks you and you jump, dropping your mug to the floor. “Shit!” You curse, a matching ‘ah hell’ leaving Soap.

“Didn’t mean to scare you again bonnie, I’m sorry.” He sighs, running a hand over his face. You’re surprised to find genuine guilt there, and he gives you a sheepish look. “I’ll clean this up for ye.”

“Gone and lost us our chance Soap?” Gaz asks, frowning at the glass on the ground but Soap just waves him off. “Accident, scared the poor lass.”

“We keep doing that, she'll never give us a chance.” Gaz smiles at you, soft and sweet but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, the bags under them worse after having cleaned up, and you feel that strange ache in your chest again. You glance at Soap, who is picking up the shards with his bare hands and you frown, swatting his hands away as you kneel beside him.

“Are you trying to hurt yourself?” You scold, and he gives you a surprised look before smiling, shrugging as he gently stops your hands from piling the remains of the mug. “Could ask the same of you bonnie, hands like these are much too pretty for such sharp things.” He mumbles, scooping up the shards without a care.

The two of them eye you nervously, and you can feel knots in your stomach. Taking a deep breath, you motion towards the living room. “Sit. I’ll make something to drink.” You offer. They raise a brow and you glance at the ground.

“I’m sorry, I just thought-“

“No need to apologize, it’s just…” Gaz starts, trying to find the words and glances at Soap.

“We’re honestly surprised you didn't run for the nearest house possible when you had the chance.” Soap says bluntly, and you wince.

“No one around for miles.” You admit, and their faces fall slightly, shoulders tensing and you clear your throat. “I said I would hear you out. I plan to.” You say firmly, turning to walk into the kitchen, just to bump into a large chest.

“I gotta worry about you keeping your mouth shut little bird?” Ghost asks, arms crossing over his chest as he stares you down.

“I do have a radio that connects me to the closest ranger station. And another for the Police station in the little town 3 hours north.” You admit, and you see his eyes flash, but you hold up your hand before he speaks.

“No. You aren’t taking it.” You snap, and his eyes narrow, exhaling sharply.

“If they don’t hear from me periodically they get worried. It’s a small town, everyone knows one another and I do have to take trips to the store every month or so.” You don’t back down from his dark gaze, but your palms feel clammy.

“They ever check up on you unannounced?” Price is last to arrive, voice stern as he levels the same cold glare as Ghost and you swallow, standing straighter, Gaz and Soap looking between the three of you nervously.

“Not unless I ask them to or I haven’t called in a few weeks. Takes too long to get out here.” Your voice shakes towards the end, slipping between the two looming men.

“You’re all here, you can start talking anytime.” You quip, and Ghost scoffs. “Got a mouth on you don’t-“

“You are asking to stay in my home. Watch it.”

He snaps his mouth shut, glaring at you and you turn your back to him. Price clears his throat, his gaze heavy on your back as you turn on the stove.

“Listen. There has to be some type of trust for this to even begin to work. You haven’t hurt me, and besides that oaf holding a knife to my throat,” You and Simon glare at one another, but he breaks first, eyes crinkling in the corners. “You’re a feisty little thing.” He laughs, crossing the kitchen to plop down at the kitchen table like he owns it.

“Besides that, you haven’t given me any reason you’re here to harm me or rob me, considering you have no car. You could easily overpower me and keep me locked in one of my own rooms and you haven’t. That’s a good start.” You finish, hands shaking slightly as you start to make your tea, and Price gently takes the kettle from your hands.

“But you’re still scared.” He states, and your shoulders stiffen. “Four men are in my kitchen asking to hide from the police. I’ve only put together who is who with your little code names by listening to you talk to one another. I’m sorry for being a little frightened.” You spit, jumping when you feel his large hand on your hip.

“Oh if you don’t quit that-“

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you pretty.”

“Okay! I think we all need to take a minute, yeah?” Gaz announces, him and Soap staring at the three of you nervously. You pry Price’s hand off your hip, again, pushing him away.

“Start talking, now. Before I let Soap and Gaz stay here and let the two of you rot outside.” You huff, taking a seat at the table and they seem surprised.

“I told you, I put together who is who, and those two,” You point, glaring at Price and Ghost as you speak. “Have been very respectful and kind.”

The two of them perk up, lapping up the small praise like thirsty dogs as their chests puff out.

Price frowns, keeping eye contact with you as he slips into the chair opposite of you. “We’ll behave.” He mutters, cutting a look at Ghost when he makes an offended noise in the back of his throat.

“We’re sorry. We didn’t mean any of the harm or fear we have caused you, really thought this place was abandoned. The boys and I appreciate you hearing us out when you have absolutely no reason to. And I… apologize.” He clears his throat, casting you a glance over before meeting your eyes once more.

“Haven’t been around such a gorgeous little thing like yourself in a long time. Forgot my manners.” He grins now, causing heat to bloom in your chest and you splutter, narrowing your eyes at him as you fight the heart crawling up your neck.

“Story. Now.”

“Oh come on pretty, am I at least forgiven?” He asks, and you know he’d deny that he’s pouting, but it still makes a small smile tug your lips.

“I’m thinking about it.”

“I could sweet talk you some more.”

“Much more interested in why you were in prison.”

Price sighs, but there’s a smile on his face as he relaxes in his chair.

“Better settle in. It’s a bit of a tale.” He crosses his arms, settling back.

“I’ve got all night.” You shoot back, resting your chin on your hand as you get comfortable.

What have you gotten yourself into?