princehonorable: (earnest puppy)
Currently, Charming is occupied in a great and terrible staring bout with a black and white fuzzy creature. His mother had a dog like this when he was little more than a boy, but it's not the same one. The patches are different, for a start, and so is the temperament. The odder thing, of course, is the presence of the dog in his and Snow's bedroom.

And it's staring at him.

"Hello," Charming says warily, tipping his head to one side to see if the dog responds to him. He does little more than give a whine. "Are you supposed to be somewhere? I'd remember if you were mine." Which is almost a joke in and of itself, given that there are still small gaps in his memory, as if fate is holding out one last joke on him. "Snow?" Charming summons. "There's something here you may want to see!"
princehonorable: (earnest puppy)
He's beginning to feel like there's a chance he'll see the makings of a real bed sometime soon. He says that every morning, but he truly believes it. With every passing day, his legs tremble a little less -- he can manage going a little farther -- and the pain doesn't last so long. He can take deeper breaths, he's remembering more, and it's all coming together to make him feel healed. David thinks he actually might be all right.

That still keeps him pent up in the clinic for most nights, just in case he needs a doctor's help before the morning's out. It gets a bit lonely, he won't lie. So, now, as the evening winds down, he has to start thinking about dinner again. Maybe he'll go to the kitchen and see if he can't strike up some conversation with someone else who doesn't have any plans for the evening.

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Prince Charming

May 2014

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