The Street Dog

If there was one thing the Tramp hadn't expected about having joined the Enchanted Suns, it was the sheer amount of time he had to himself. Sure, there were the occasional roll calls, and training exercises, but aside from those assigned to guard duty, and the cadets, most of the soldiers were largely left to their own devices. Not that he was complaining. Time not spent on duty meant he had more time to keep his eyes opened for the rest of his family. Particularly a certain member of the family not related to him by blood.

Like most if not all the rest of the Suns, he'd expected the wagon escort assignment to be a simple, uneventful thing, since the wagon was well within Sun territory. The Cursed Thorns attack had been a harsh wake-up call that had sent shivers through the rest of the Suns, and since then, the Tramp had found himself treating his surroundings like the streets of Marceline from before he'd joined the Dear family, always keeping his eyes open for escape routes, and avoiding potential dead ends.

Then rumors had reached him that a familiar-looking small dog had been with the wagon during the attack, and had been injured, though just how badly was unknown. Aside from asking a few careful questions here and there, he'd kept his distance. Street dog that he was, he knew Angel wouldn't be at her best when she felt herself to be physically weak. So, while he stayed close, and even caught a few brief glimpses of her from time to time, he remained out of sight.

But now though, after she left the infirmary, he'd tailed after her, willing to wait until they were in a better spot than one that might make her feel trapped. And preferably one without a lot of people walking around. Soon enough, it was clear where Angel was headed, and the Tramp could see her clearly as she made her way across the bridge towards the castle, only to stop half-way across, and turn around.

Welp, it seemed she'd come to him, although she didn't know it yet. He laid down beside a low, grey, stone wall, tucked out of the wind, and rested his head atop his crossed forepaws. It was as good a setting as he could've hoped for. If Angel really wasn't ready to talk, she had several good routes to choose from to make herself scarce, and it was clear that, at the moment, this wasn't a place where many people had business to be.

Soon enough, he heard the faint sound of light paws on the stone bridge just a moment before Angel padded into sight and sat down, and muttered to herself. A slight, gentle smile crossed his scruffy face. "Some things never do," he observed. "And some things we have to work at if we want them to change."

One corner of the Tramp's mouth curled up into a slight smirk as Angel spoke, though his eyes remained as soft and gentle as before."Well, I was displeased when Pidge disappeared into the night to follow you out here, at least for a little bit. But if I thought for one moment you saw us as nothing more than a meal ticket, I wouldn't have wasted another thought on you after you left, let alone come looking for you. But, I'd have understood."

His gaze fixed on the white streak of fur on her thigh for a moment before he continued. "That used to be my favorite trick. Had a family for every day of the week, not to mention several restaurants where I'd go for an easy handout. It beat digging in the trash and having to fight rats to survive, so what street dog wouldn't at least consider it?" He'd picked up on that particular game early on, and he'd become a true master at it, thriving where most other dogs merely survived, for a time.

"I'd say that depends entirely on you. You'll always have a place with the Dear family if you decide to return, though I know it's not as easy thing, settling in after life on the streets. A lot changes. New rules, no more need to keep an eye on your surroundings at all times..." he trailed off, fixing Angel with an appraising eye, one brow rising a bit, mimicking Lady's habit though without the sharper look about her that so often accompanied the gesture.

"There's just one piece of the puzzle missing. You tried so many times to find a home where you could belong, and not long after you're given a place in our home, including your own collar and license, you up and join this war," he mused, his tone gentle and inquisitive. "I'd like to know why. Maybe I can help. But, if it's something you'd rather not talk about, then I won't pry."

He honestly wanted what was best for her, for Scamp's sake and for her own. he believed it would be best for her to remain a part of the Dear family, but after the trouble his attempts to force Scamp to toe the line as a house dog had caused, he wasn't about to try to be anywhere so controlling again. Especially not when it wasn't really in his nature to begin with.

As he waited for Angel to make up her mind on whether or not to share her thoughts, the Tramp rested his head atop one long foreleg, still looking completely at ease. One ear slowly perked up a bit when she finally spoke, and she had his undivided attention as she went on about her past, and how it had mentally shaped her. His sole reaction as she related her story was to wince a bit in sympathy when she mentioned having been rejected due to a baby arriving. It struck an all too familiar chord within him.

It was plain to him now why she'd left her previous two homes. And the Dear home, even if he suspected there might be something more, a tipping point that she didn't want to share. But that wasn't for him to pry at. She'd already shared so much, despite it obviously having been hard for her to admit to. For a moment, he let the silence linger, though after a brief moment he raised his head and offered Angel a small, sympathetic smile.

"I had it rather rough for a bit, after moving into Jim Dear and Darling's home. I like to think I'm a fast learner, but even for me it took some time to learn all the rules of house living. And, just between you and me, Pidge got into some mischief herself, when she was younger. Don't get me started on Scamp's behavior," he stated, a roguish glint in his eye as he offered her a smirk before turning serious once more. "My point here is the Dears are very patient. Jim Dear went looking for you after you left. He had notices put up. He only stopped when whatever caused the world to be so scrambled meant we could talk to them, and explain where you went."

Now it was his turn to pause for a moment while so his words could sink in. "You're a part of the family. That means you won't get tossed out onto the streets, no matter what you do. You have a place in the Dear house for as long as there is a Dear house. I want you to remember that, and I want you to know you can always talk to me about anything. I won't breathe a word to another living soul if it's something you wish kept secret. It's time to stop running away, Angel. Trust me, you don't want to spend your entire life running."

    Angel remained silent as the elder dog spoke. Her eyes rooted to him and her tail softly swishing side to side as she absorbed his words. Through that small, sympathetic smile she felt that the Tramp knew her situation as if he had been there alongside her the whole of the way. A thought that may not has been that far from the truth. The ends of her mouth turned up in a soft smile in return and a light chuckle as he mentioned Scamp's behavior. However, the smile vanished and her face grew slightly pale at the knowledge that Jim Dear had gone looking for her. None of her previous families had ever done that.