Walking the Dog

It’s a beautiful day. The early afternoon sun is bright but not overbearing, and a pleasantly cool breeze sweeps through the streets just enough to alleviate the slow swell of summer heat. Pixy nimbly balances along the ledge of the sidewalk, her arms spread wide like a tightrope runner’s, as Ludo prowls along after her like an ominous shadow. Pixy has taken to nabbing him from his shifts at the Lester Junkyard almost daily, since Earl doesn’t seem to enforce breaks or anything like that, and bringing him on a walk around different parts of St. Agatha.

She worries he’ll get stir crazy doing whatever it is he does there. It’s far away from the city, and other people, and Pixy is aware Earl isn’t exactly good for company even if she does like him. As chatty as Ludo is, she can’t imagine he isn’t at least a little bored and lonely being there all day, even if he’s insistent he’s just fine. He seems excited to see her in his own way, and he never fights her on leaving when she shows up to get him, so she must be at least a little right.

Normally Ludo is much more talkative than he is now, but Pixy and him now approach Morrison’s, the local convenience store and auto shop, and he likes to stare at their second shift clerk, Lynn, in a way that reads as almost bashful to Pixy. She’s been trying to goad him into approaching her, but he always shrugs her off. As they draw nearer, Pixy looks back at her strange company, and takes in the way he tips his head up slightly to try to get a glimpse in the front of the store as soon as possible, and she stifles a giggle.

Pixy strays up to the front of the store, and Ludo distractedly follows until she comes to a stop, his spidery hands buried in the pockets of his trenchcoat, goggles lowered to cover his pale, piercing eyes and giving his narrow face an even more skull-like appearance. He doesn’t ever break his stare on Lynn inside, even as Pixy begins to crack up. Eventually, she begins looking in as well, and sees a rack of Honey Buns that catch her attention.

“You want anything?” Pixy asks, standing on her tiptoes and rolling forward a bit, eventually slanting forward enough to let her face press against the glass.

“Mm?” Ludo makes a low sound of recognition in response, still distracted, until his fixated gaze snaps to the back of Pixy’s head, and for a moment his mouth tenses flatly before splitting into his usual slightly too-wide grin “Come again?”

“From Morrison’s. You want something, polecat?” Pixy pulls back and turns towards Ludo, smiling casually, hands finding the pockets of her hand-stitched striped hoodie.

Ludo has a myriad of habits surrounding food that concern and annoy Pixy. He rarely ever eats it, for one thing, which puts her on edge, and while he’s never complained about being hungry he likes to stare at people expressionlessly and intently while they eat. She thinks that might be some kind of failed attempt to communicate, but if she asks him if he’s eaten or wants to he brushes her off. Trying to find a solution he won’t worm out of, Pixy has decided to try at least handing him something, so he can do with it what he will.

“What, to eat?” Ludo’s head tilts to the side slightly, seeming confused, one of his stark eyebrows arching on his brow.

“I’m sorry, are you a mini cooper? Do you need your tank filled up? Mhm! Yeah, I want a snack, and I need help justifying a silly little purchase like this, so you could help me by letting me get you something too!”

His wide, corpse-like eyes are made scarlet by his shaded lenses. If Pixy weren’t able to see his full face, she’d be unable to tell his smile was broadening.

“I love your way with words. You really have a knack for making a kind gesture demeaning,” Ludo is grinning despite this, and Pixy rolls her eyes, knowing he doesn’t mean it.

“Whatcha want, livewire?” Pixy’s hands find her hips as she meanders to Morrison’s front door and pauses just outside it, turning to face Ludo before taking the handle.

“Ehh…” he hesitates, cocking his head, seeming to draw an uncharacteristic loss for words and coming to scratch high at the back of his neck, upsetting the carefully arranged disorder of dark hair there.

“Do you not like anything? Any allergies?” Pixy asks.

Ludo just shrugs.

“No. I’m a scavenger animal.”