|Scene Title||Idle Threats|
|Synopsis||Guess who came back?|
|Date||July 07, 1994|
Not exactly the most picturesque scene here. It's a dirt packed road that winds away from the main area of the village and leads off into the woods that claim the countryside. In a way, it's a peaceful walk, but quiet in that way that makes it feel haunted. Perhaps this feeling is due to the presence of the boarded up shack set back from the road. Word has it, this is the most haunted dwelling in Britain.
Having fled the area for a bit, intending to be gone from the country longer, certain events have called him back to the UK. (Even if it would have been wiser to stay away.) Buckbeak has been hidden in a cave, and Sirius has transformed into the large black dog. It's foolish for him to be out in plain view like this, even if so few know of his animagus form. Recklessness and determination just tends to take hold. Alas, the large black dog is seen once more, trotting along the deserted road.
The deserted road is just that - deserted. During the daytime, it's not so scary like it used to be to her as a student. The Shrieking Shack is further down the lane and when she was younger, she and her fellow students would dare each other to get as close as they could to it without chickening out. While she didn't win those bets, she made it pretty far. Now, though, she's curious again. Mostly because she wants to sketch it. Picking her way up the path with her clunky sketch book in one arm and a load of pencils and erasers in the other, she has that haunted house in her sights. The dog coming down the road is mostly just given a wary glance.
The dog freezes in his tracks upon noticing Jilly's presence. He tilts his head just a little, puzzling over what the woman is doing here. Hrm.. can't have her going to close to the hiding place of old now can we? Barking playfully, he sprints towards the woman, tail wagging.
"Shh." Jilly would put a finger to her lips to silence the dog, but her hands are all too full with drawing supplies. "Oh, I remember you. Where's your master? Really, he should be more careful about keeping you inside." Sighing, she attempts to side-step around the massive dog and keep moving in the same direction anyway.
The dog is too big to stay cooped up inside! Tail still wagging, he barks again as if to say let's play! Nose working overtime as he sniffs at the art supplies, he sort of dances around on all four paws, getting in Jilly's way. He's just enthusiastic and wants to play! This isn't deliberate, no!
Not deliberate, her foot! Jilly weaves one way and then the other, trying to get around the big dog. "Stop it, you. Bad dog!" And, get in her way he certainly manages to do. Tripping over herself, her pencils and erasers go scattering about onto the dusty ground. "Bollocks!"
The dog very well could be smiling at being called a 'bad dog'. Wouldn't be the first time, nor the last! He backs out of Jilly's way however, right as she drops some of her supplies. Padfoot then picks up the pencils best he can manage in his mouth and plunks down on the dusty ground, holding them. See. Not entirely bad.
"So now you're helpful." Jilly sighs at Padfoot as she stoops down to pick up her art supplies. Dusting them off on her already paint stained robe, she sighs and takes them from Padfoot's mouth. Wrinkling her nose at the wet pencils, she wipes those off on the hem of her skirt extra carefully. "Ylech. Dog drool."
What do you mean, now you're helpful?? Some witches! Thumping his tail in the dirt, Padfoot lets go of the pencils so Jilly can take them back. His grey eyes study the witch momentarily before he barks again.
Getting in her way and making her drop all her supplies wouldn't normally be considered helpful to Jilly. Eyeing the dog, she looks over at the Shrieking Shack again and sighs. "You're hungry again, huh? Does that guy never feed you? Or do you just think you can get free meals from poor, unsuspecting witches?"
Well now that you mention it… it's more fun to get a meal off of a witch. But Padfoot's not telling. (Besides, he's not hungry at the moment.) Tail wagging slowly, raising the dust on the ground, he stays put.
It's not really like Jilly expects Padfoot to answer her. He's a dog, after all. But, she talks to animals. When there's no one in the post office, she talks to the owls, too. Glancing at the dog, she straightens, all her supplies now in order and moves once again for the decrepit house. "Once I'm done sketching, we can go back and I'll get you something from the Three Broomsticks. But you'll have to be good."
Woah, hey, no going closer to the house! Padfoot barks again and nips at the witch's robes, trying to put a stop to the advance. Be good? Where's the fun in /that/? A soft growl is heard from the massive dog, could be a playful growl, or one of warning.
"Hey!" Jilly, without thinking, reaches out and taps Padfoot hard on the nose in a disciplinary gesture. "No! Bad!" She is the human and he is the dog, he's supposed to learn and not chew on her robes. "Let go!"
Padfoot sneezes in response at the hard tap on the nose. What the! Regardless, he doesn't retaliate, nor does he let go. There is however a confused look in his pale eyes that lingers briefly about the nose tapping.
Eeew. And now she's being sneezed on? very bad dog. Stepping back again so that the tug on her robe isn't enough to rip the fabric, Jilly frowns and ducks down a little, threatening to tap him on the snout again. "Let go, Padfoot." That was his name, right? It would make sense. "Or no sandwich."
Your feeble threat about a sandwich means nothing! However, the dog's ears do lay back a little at the threat to tap his nose again. That kinda smarted! Hmrph. This is a stubborn witch he's working with, or maybe there should be a different diversionary tactic.
Idle threats and dog biting is not enough to steer Jilly off her course of artwork. She gets to do so little about it nowadays that she's determined. "I mean it, mister." It's the tone of voice that she uses to disobedient owls and children who try to pull on their tails. "Let go."
Padfoot's ears droop and he utters a soft whine. Letting go of Jilly's robe, he puts on the saddest expression he can muster.
Oh, now that's just cruel. Jilly hates seeing animals and children, and just about anyone in any kind of pain. Especially when she's the one to do it. She's not exactly a disciplinarian. "Oh, now, don't do that." Shoulders dropping, she looks distraught.
Hey, it works. It's been proven time and time again. Padfoot lays down on the ground, resting his muzzle against his forepaws, looking up at Jilly. Laying it on thick, yes. He knows.
Now that's just too much. But, as Jilly's already tapped him on the nose, she realizes she may have actually hurt him. Oh dear. Crouching down, she gently and slowly reaches a hand out to scratch him behind the ears. It's not normally a good idea to pet stray dogs, but he look so pathetic.
The dog was hurt! Yes! Hurt grievously! Mistreated in fact! Another whine is given as he's scratched behind the ears. Keeping up the pathetic act, he should really be ashamed of his behavior.
Ashamed is quite right. As should Jilly be, for falling for an act laid on so thick. "I didn't tap you that hard," she informs the dog, chastising him gently. But, that doesn't mean she stops scratching behind his ears. "Now, if you'll be good, and let me just draw the outside of this creepy old house, we'll go back, you'll get some food and we'll go find your owner."
The large dog lifts his head and gives a bark. So long as Jilly doesn't move any closer to the shack, he doesn't put up any more low blows or diversionary actions to stop her. He's not sure anyone ever really tried to draw pictures of the shack, so is mildly curious as to /why/.
Why? Because it's ramshackle and odd and that catches Jilly's eye. Why bother painting only beautiful things? This one, she already has in her minds eye. If she sets it down to actual paint, the clouds will move to block a large moon. The trees will wave in the breeze so it should be possible to almost hear them creaking. Something will move across the window every once in awhile. It'll be as good as Halloween. She'll put it up as a decoration in the post office. Patting the dog absently on the head after the bark, she pulls out her pencils and flips to a clean page of her sketch book to start on her work. Settling down on the grass by the path, she quickly starts to outline.