Walker sat on the couch, watching Arcadie play with a set of Lincoln Logs one of his friends had give her. He could hardly believe that the child had only been part of his life for a month, but there she was, and he had changed.

He couldn't imagine life without the tiny, fearless child. He found himself composing songs especially for her, little, nonsense songs full or sound and rhythm meant to delight her, or epic fantastical stories of fairies and princesses and Knights-in-Shining-Armor. Her eyes would light up when he sang to her, and it seemed to him that she would drink it in with all her being. He found himself inspired in other work as well, in the immortal tales the other Galliards sung around fires. It was as if he was on a creative high, and she was his cheerleader.

Even now, she wasn't doing much of anything, except sitting quietly, building houses and castles out of the little wooden logs, and his mind was filled with half-finished songs and ballads that seemed to create themselves.

Arcadie was silent always, and Walker wanted very dearly to know why she never said a word. She didn't even laugh, though her eyes would shine and express the emotions her voice would not. He toyed with the idea of taking her to a doctor to see if there was anything wrong with her voice. After a moment he pushed the thought away, he'd consider it later, there were always those songs he wanted to finish.

Walker wasn't the only one feeling the gentle touch of the child in their midst, his pack-mates felt it as strongly. Elspeth gloried in her role as mother and was fiercely protective of the little girl who didn't seem to feel fear. She was constantly getting into trouble because she didn't know to back away. Anders was, to put it honestly, intrigued. He wanted to know what exactly Arcadie was, and so began his researches in the books he tended to collect.

Arcadie looked up at Walker where he sat looking at her, and smiled at him happily. She began putting her toys away in their box and then slid the box into its corner. She was very careful not to leave her toys out. She stood and walked over to sit next to Walker. He smiled and embraced her quickly. All the pack loved hugging this gentle child.

She reached over to the coffeetable and pulled a magazine onto her lap, opening it to a page with a picture of a child playing with a dog. She tugged on Walker's sleeve and directed his attention to the picture with an imperious gesture. He smiled indulgently. She pointed again and then looked up at him with pleading eyes. Finally he understood.

"You want a dog?" he asked.

She nodded eagerly. Then she pointed out at the large fenced-in backyard. The pack had moved from the apartment into a small house one of Ander's contacts had found for them. It was true that the yard was perfect for a dog.

"Anders? Elspeth?" he called, and the other two werewolves came into the room. "Arcadie wants a dog."

Anders stifled a burst of laughter. Walker had almost not allowed Arcadie into their lives, and now he was as ga-ga over her as the rest of them. "What kind of dog do you want, Arcadie?" he asked.

She scruched her eyebrows together, thinking. Then she held her hands out, measuring the distance of a relatively small dog, small enough that she could carry it.

Anders thought about the situation a moment. "Can you take care of a dog? A dog can't turn into a human and take care of itself."

She nodded.

"Well, we could go to the pound and get a dog, I never liked the thought of being locked up there myself."

Arcadie nodded forcefully. She didn't like the idea of a dog being left in the pound herself.

Anders looked up at the other two. "How about if Arcadie and I go down and look around for a while. I've got time."

Arcadie looked grateful and turned pleading eyes on the others. She could usually get what she wanted with those eyes, and she certainly managed well enough this day.

Anders and Arcadie walked up to the entrance of the Animal Shelter and walked in, Arcadie bouncing with ill-concealed eagerness. The lady behind the desk smiled at her when she saw them. People always smiled at Arcadie. "May I help you?" she asked Anders.

"Yes, my niece wants very much to have a dog."

"I see, would you like me to show you the pens?"

"Yes please."

They walked around to the back of the building, where there were pens upon pens of dogs. Some barking noisily, some not so noisily, and some simply standing next to the doors of their pens looking miserably cute, or at least trying.

Arcadie walked around, very carefully inspecting each dog. Some she seemed to dismiss out-of-hand as either too big, too noisy, or too rough looking. Anders was amused at her serious, silent, appraisal of each animal. Then she saw one small dog, and her face turned shocked, sad, and pain-filled all at once. She fell to her knees before the pen and stuck her fingers through the fence before the Animal Shelter worker could stop her.

The little dog reached its head out and licked at her fingers, wagging its tail sadly. Anders looked closely at it. It was a toy dog, apparently, a little mop of fur, apparently still in the puppy stage. It was also, apparently, a female, from what he could tell, which wasn't much. He turned to the worker. "What about that one?"

"That one we got about a week ago, she's still a puppy, under a year from what we can tell. She was abandoned on our doorstep, quite literally. Looks like the little girl has quite an attachment to her."

"That she does." Anders said. He knealt down next to Arcadie, and looked very carefully at the two of them, girl and dog. There was something about them... "Is she like you?" he asked quietly, so the woman couldn't hear them.

Arcadie turned pain-haunted eyes towards him. With one hand she gestured "sorta". He nodded, not really understanding, but understanding her pain. He looked up at the shelter worker. "Do you think you could open up the door so she could hold the dog?"

The worker nodded. There was an understanding in her eyes. Apparently she could know a bond when she saw one. The little dog was heartbreakingly eager when Arcadie pulled her into her arms. She lifted her head and licked Arcadie's face, and brought a smile there. Anders found himself smiling as well. "I think we found our dog. How soon can we take her home."

"Well, there is some paperwork and..." the woman stopped for a moment. Something shimmered around Arcadie and the dog, and then was gone, and the woman continued. "But that shouldn't take very long at all." She seemed not to notice that she paused at all.

Anders filled out the necessary paperwork, which really didn't take long at all, but he did notice that there was no mention of spaying the little dog, none at all. He turned one curious eye to Arcadie who smiled at him with the most innocent look on her face that he knew she'd had something to do with the omission.

In all events, they were soon back in the car heading back to the house, with the little dog in Arcadie's lap. Once out of the Shelter the dog seemed to pick up intrest in life, and looked less absolutely miserable, which was all to the good in Anders mind. A dog that darling had no business looking miserable.

They were within a couple blocks of the house, in some non-developed area just out of town, when a shape ran across the road. Anders hit the brakes, but they heard the heart-breaking sound of a canine yelp of pain. Arcadie scrambled out of the car before Anders could stop her and ran to see what they had hit. He soon joined her at the side of a truly miserable-looking mutt. He, for this one was male, was a medium-large dog, who looked like somewhere in his mixed background there included a wolf.

Arcadie quickly kneeled next to the dog and ran her hands over his fur. There was a burst of something in the air, the hair on Anders neck stood on end for a moment, and then it was gone and the dog was licking at Arcadie's hand, and she was smiling up at Anders.

She pulled Anders over closer and showed him a mark on the animal's chest, it looked vaguely like a sigil. Ander's eyes grew wide as he recognized the mark of the Bone Gnawers. The dog was a young one, pretty close to First Change, if he hadn't experienced it yet. They had to get it home. He wondered how badly he was hurt when Arcadie helped the dog stand up, and Anders was startled to see that there wasn't a mark on his body, as if he'd never been hit.

Still stunned, he helped Arcadie load the larger dog into the car and then they set off for home. They were met at the door by two very suprised werewolves. "I thought you were only getting one dog for Arcadie?" Walker asked.

"Ran into the other one on the way home and couldn't leave him behind. We gotta get him inside, and I gotta tell you about this one."

Elspeth's eyes had already gone wide. Once inside she shut the door and looked at the two of them. "Tell story now. Small dog like pup. Big dog like us. What is deal?"

Anders smiled almost apologetically. "I don't know much about the small one. Arcadie had this instantaneous bond with it. Looks like the other one is a Lost Pup. Coulda sworn I hit him with the car, but he's unhurt. He's also gonna need our help."

And so Scraps joined the little pack. Scraps, the Bone Gnawer Ragabash, a trickster and a tester of the ways, and the little mop of a dog, Petrie. After all, every child needs to have a dog...

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Sent to Werewolf-l on May 3rd, 1997 as a follow-up to Operation: GlamourGun