Chance held him good and close, nuzzled his ear with a soft, soft press, and--and he was starting to smell nice, just that hint of a warm, urgent summer feeling starting to spread in his personal scent. It didn't quite drown out the sharp bite of Lumi's own fear, that cold dull roar that refused to leave him, but it did have him thinking vividly about the nice, tight confines of the offered bed.

"I want to," drawn into a soft, soft whine so high up it was a whisper. "Chance, I like this, I like you! But I'm scared." His ears dipped back: "I--had such a bad dream."

It came out small. It sounded almost silly, except he meant it. Only most of the truth, leaving out the hot, wet flash of the great big knife--that sharp plunge deep as nature, final as teeth.

Snip.

He didn't need to say that, but he needed to say something more--it wasn't fair to the other pet, to leave him guessing. It wasn't Chance's fault that Lumi felt this way, hot and cold and all churned up inside. Chance was kind and patient, still stroking his back in broad, gentle circles.

Lumi paused, and thought, and couldn't quite make himself look up at the older golden.

"Vet's gonna fix me." Certain, feeling the fabric puff where he mumbled into Chance's shirt. "See, I'm--" he knew ugly human words for himself and his nature, the kindest of which was, "I'm a two-bit. Never gonna family, but I am worth money. To the Kennel Club, or--or Sit n' Stay or--" it shuddered up his whole body, out the tip of his tail, "Fido's."

"Oh, Chance, what if they catch us?" He hung on tight. "I don't want you hurt."