OOC here.
Word Count → 000
A familiar scent reached the pregnant dog. She stopped in her bartering for a beautiful carved sword, and stepped away. There he was, the father of her pups. Walking through the festival, clutching a wooden case. Chess, from the looks of it. Amy waved Hadley to finish the purchase, a shock for the poor slave. She never let him handle the deals, convinced that he would screw up and unwilling to give up the feeling that it gave her. Whining he watched his master walk away, pregnant body swaying slightly as she moved through.
Reaching Amy tapped him on the shoulder. Hello again. Amy smiled, her brown eyes a soft warmth. Maybe he would know if the pups would be any good. She was going mad with worry, even as she attempted to hold onto her cold mask of indifference and control. This was beyond her control though, despite her seeking this result. What the result could possibly be worried Amy, though she didn't show it. Congratulations. You're a father.
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