I can't force these eyes to see the end
#8
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Lost by her mother, she'd said. Jefferson found himself deeply disturbed by this concept, that a parent would so recklessly and easily lose sight of a child. How long had the poor thing been wandering alone in the cold--how hadn't she gotten hurt, hunted, killed? The one-eyed brute cringed at the idea, scowled, and sighed. At least she was warm and safe now; Jefferson sure didn't look like much of a threat, but when it came to protecting the innocent (and whomever else had otherwise gotten his affections), there was no stopping him. His good arm, due to its overuse in contrast with his useless one, was heavily built... as were his hind legs, of course. Jefferson's method of fighting was different from most anyone else's, given that his legs were more of a weapon than his arms, but there was no stopping him when he was attacking.


"Then we'll wait for her to come back," he sighed. If she didn't, who would look after the poor thing? Would Jefferson even be able to break himself away from her, having already developed a gentle soft spot for the little thing? He didn't even know if he mother could take care of Addi anyway. He wasn't sure he wanted to trust her with the pup again. "You... might like it here, though." He mumbled. At least she was safe.

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