[from the pages—or rather, springs of Ranma ½, we bring to you. . .]

[onlyhonournow]

 [today, there's a rather large dog sitting, looking very reserved while gazing at the sky above the Fussin' Overlook]

[the dog seems rather familiar: there's something in its expression—and I mean, there can't be that many white dogs with red accents who have two swords strapped to their backs.] 

Comments

[onlyhonournow]

[barking, and playfully backing up with his hindquarters raised. throw it already, man.]

[wingedjustice]

[throws]

[onlyhonournow]

[watching it go, before instinctively leaping after it]

[he snatches it up and runs back, dropping it before flopping down to gnaw on it]

How'd you know it was me?

[wingedjustice]

How could I not?

[onlyhonournow]

[getting up to go lean against one of Wing's legs.]

Suddenly being organic is kind of a big change.

[wingedjustice]

It's you.

[onlyhonournow]

[propping his forepaws up on Wing's leg, effectively standing up on his hind ones, eyes bright]

Should I be insulted?

[wingedjustice]

Up to you.

[onlyhonournow]

[just goes quiet and leans his muzzle into Wing's hand again]

[wingedjustice]

[pets]

[onlyhonournow]

[and now he's going to jump on Wing and attempt to bowl him over.]

I don't remember you letting your guard down like this before.

[wingedjustice]

Tough talk from an organic.

[he easily keeps his ground]