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While it's a blessing that Mr. Muggles doesn't seem keen on marking every unfamiliar territory as his own, Claire can't help wishing that the Pomeranian would be a little less eager about meeting the other animals on the island. It's not that Claire terribly minds being dragged on over to a strange lizard or being yanked at the sight of a tropical bird, but when said animal has an owner dragged along, Claire finds herself nervous at the prospect, never certain whether or not that person is someone she'll enjoy getting to know or even someone she can ever come to trust. That's why she winces when Mr. Muggles suddenly decides to dart out of her arms, chasing after another dog on the beach.
"Mr. Muggles, no—"
How many times has she said that, already? The three words feel like they tumble out with all the force of a reflex these days, causing Claire to roll her eyes as she goes through the same old routine, feet sinking into the sand with every step. She's slower than usual now, chasing after that darned dog.
"No, Mr. Muggles, bad dog, bad—"
And for what seems like the millionth time, Claire looks around helplessly for the owner of the dog, prepared to have apologies tumble out of her lips half-formed in her sincerity.
"Mr. Muggles, no—"
How many times has she said that, already? The three words feel like they tumble out with all the force of a reflex these days, causing Claire to roll her eyes as she goes through the same old routine, feet sinking into the sand with every step. She's slower than usual now, chasing after that darned dog.
"No, Mr. Muggles, bad dog, bad—"
And for what seems like the millionth time, Claire looks around helplessly for the owner of the dog, prepared to have apologies tumble out of her lips half-formed in her sincerity.