14: Yellow [open commentlog]

[quack quack quack quack quack quack quack quack]

I got BIRDS.

[Thom has a flock of ducklings and he's never been happier. He has a mask that fits his doggie head - go figure. He is herding the waterfowl diligently, though where, or to what purpose, is unknown. Feel free to encounter him... well just about anywhere, really. Thom may try to herd you as well...]

12: I'm not a furry shut up

I got big.


My masters would'a loved this. I mean, I'm sure they liked me as a puppy, but now they wouldn't have to wait! I can do what the grown-up pets do now.

'cept my masters aren't here. [Sigh.]

I wonder who they would'a paired me with when I got big like this? I mean, for fun. Sure they would've put me with a bitch to make puppies, I've got real good papers. But for fun...

Was always real good friends with Sage. Hm...
I has a sad

10: Well that wasn't supposed to happen

[Muffled bumps, as if the comm is being handled by clumsy fingers.

A long pause, followed by a sniff.]


M-my collar.

Can't come off. Shouldn't come off, ever ever ever.

But it's not on me an'...


I-if anyone hazzit...

Please give it back.


'kay. Thanks.


{OOC: Thom's collar has two parts - a thick metal band with alien inscriptions and a clever locking mechanism - fortunately unlocked, as once it's closed it won't be coming loose - and a normal fabric collar that fits closely over it. Both are up for grabs...}
Emo Puppeh, blink blink

9: This shouldn't happen to a dog

[There's a high-pitched whimpering, the almost dual-toned pleading sound that only dogs seem capable of. Thom's voice becomes distinct from the whine]

Please - please - m- where's my Master, please, I - I want Misters Xana an' Tallsin - please lemme see 'em pleeease ---

[The begging dissolves into purely animal yelps of pain, undulating and high-pitched; there's a muffled bump, and the transmission cuts.]

8: This is his version of a bad mood

What're those things? The things with... they look like... their heads are like people's but they have hooves and fingers too. I never seen nothing like them, but I can't touch 'em.

[Annoyed huff]

... This chicken's mine you can't have it.

[Thom is in the buffet crouching jealously over a full roast chicken he seems to have nabbed from a table. Chicken bones are bad for dogs. Maybe someone should stop him?]