Sheryl & Lanny

Sheryl still wasn't fond of this whole dog situation. She'd love a little fluffy dog maybe, but not a big flea-bitten mongrel as she saw Malon to be. Still, she had gotten very attatched to little 'Randy' and was willing to put up with this stray that he knew. "We'll have to get it rabies shots." The young lady went on as she spoke to Lanny. "And a flea bath for sure. Ick, I hate fleas!"

"They'd go great with the cockroaches." Lanny quipped back with a grin. As much money as they made, the three still resided in the lowly dumps that were the Candlehouse Apartments.

An exasperated, dramatic sigh was Sheryl's response. "I can't wait till we move out of that hell-hole. Randy can have his very own room. And we'll have a pool, and a giant kitchen, and closets that you can actually fit stuff in, and... oh, you'll just love it!" Sheryl cooed, now talking to Raimi.

Reaching the pet shop, Lanny opened the door for Sheryl. "Alright May, I hope you know how to behave..." He said uncertainly, holding the door still for Malon to enter.

Raimi

Raimi cuddled up to Sheryl, a little sleepy now that his tummy was full of macaroni. But he still had enough energy to squeal and wiggle his fingers at Malon to get the shepherd-mix to follow them. Juknub, May-may.

Sheryl & Lanny

Looking through a variety of collars, Sheryl shifted Raimi to her other arm, while leaning her hip to the side to help support him. She hadn't realized just how exhausting it was to carry around a kid! "Look at all the pretties, Randy. Which one do you like?" She asked, pointing at the array of collars, all in different colors, designs, and sizes.

Lanny was distractedly looking over some different types of food, while also keeping an eye out for danger. Back in the day, very few people dared mess with his Gang, but now... there were some very unpredictable people in town.

Raimi

Raimi cooed sleepily as he twisted in Sheryl's grip to gaze at the selection of collars. His little hand reached out to fiddle with them, giggling as he came to a group of belled ones that made a tinkling noise when he brushed them. However, these were much too small for the shepherd-mix.

He was slowly beginning to understand that "Randy" meant that Sheryl was talking to him, so when she used his name, he responded in a babble ofShak meeeeeee zuut! May-May... And he gazed down at Malon with a critical eye, then back up at the collars. ...Geen! And he touched his fingers to a dark green collar of a good thickness and length to fit the hybrid, and which was a great color for bringing out the dog's soulful eyes, though of course that was sheerly coincidence. Randy... liiike geen.