@eyesandcrows
“Go on Cat, go get it!” Hawke laughed as she threw the small red ball again, Cat nearly tripping over himself to run after it. Business was quiet today and the weather was nice, so Hawke had closed her shop and taken Cat out for some fresh air by the riverside.
Fetch wasn’t usually something she did- well, not normal fetch with a ball at least. Usually fetch was played as Hawke telling Cat to go tackle some poor guard or slaver or other such unlucky person that got in her way. Kirkwallers really had no idea how to react to a 200 pound war dog coming at them.
Well, to be fair, very few people outside of Ferelden did. So Hawke felt a pang of worry as Cat barreled after the ball; she’d thrown it rather hard, and unfortunately in the direction of a rather unlucky passer-by. It had landed right at their feet, and Cat showed no signs of slowing down.
“Well shit.” Hawke cursed, breaking into a run after her dog. She could tell where this was going.
