It was Mateo who'd awoken him. The botanist had been coming back from somewhere that smelled of fruity wine and chocolate (or perhaps that's merely the scent he'd chosen to leave the boat with), and had nudged the black puddle of fur awake and beckoned him outside.
Padding softly at Mateo's heel, the shepherd had immediately noticed what it was his friend was staring up at. Whining softly before sitting down and curling his tail tightly around his paws, the canine looked from the moon—the real one—to the second one, and then back again.
not good, he thought to himself, before nudging his nose into the botanist's hand and huffing softly under his breath.
Padding softly at Mateo's heel, the shepherd had immediately noticed what it was his friend was staring up at. Whining softly before sitting down and curling his tail tightly around his paws, the canine looked from the moon—the real one—to the second one, and then back again.
not good, he thought to himself, before nudging his nose into the botanist's hand and huffing softly under his breath.
Your eyes they take no prisoners
But I'd love to be your visitor
But I'd love to be your visitor
