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TLV: IC Inbox

You've reached Timothy Stoker, leave a message at the tone and I'll get back to you.

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[ There is pawing and doggy whining outside your door, Tim. Open uuuuuup!!! ]

Give me a minute! Winnie, come here--

[Excuse you random canine interloper he is still feeling very weird about waking up without any scars and it is jarring, and when he opens the door it's after he tucks Winnie in his bedroom and puts on some pants and a singlet.

And hey, look, Jon - no scars! Just a very confused and slightly bleary Tim staring at the dog when he opens the door.]

[ He gets to see a blond wolf, made of much fluff, for about .03 seconds before said wolf is bouncing up to try and lick him in the face, tail going like a metronome. He's not trying to bowl Tim over, but he is very excited and he loves you, Tim. Loves you so much. DID YOU KNOW HE LOVES YOU? Because he does. ]

[It is too early and too licky for this, and with the first lunge Tim stumbles back with a sharp, incoherent noise of surprise because that tongue nearly went in his mouth and he immediately goes down when he trips over his own feet.

He's fine, he's just floor level, and immediately he brings an arm up ready to parry more excited dogginess.]

Jesus, Iris, d'you even care what time it is? [He's not mad, but a white werewolf certainly brings a specific Bargizen to mind.]

[ He is a little more tawny than Iris, though to be fair to Iris, the color is closer than it isn't. Tim will get licked some more but when Iris's name is mentioned, there is the saddest dog noise he has ever heard before Jon is trotting in a circle, bowing, and flailing on the ground in 'anguish' to try and make it clear that there has been a misidentification of wolf, Tim. ]

[God, why are werewolves such drama queens?]

Alright, you big baby, message bloody received.

[He pushes himself to sit upright, resting his elbow on a raised knee as he thinks hard through the sluggish remnants of his deserved rest.

Werewolf that knows him, obviously, definitely not Lark and vehemently not Iris. He's forgotten what colour Warren was, and Jacobi would have found him first if they were both back.

...hold on. He squints at the fur colour again, because something about it feels... familiar.]

...Jon?

[ The tail is wagging again and Jon bounces almost five feet straight up before landing and immediately rushing in to lick at him again. Yes! You got it! Good on you, Tim!

Hello!!! ]

Jesus--!

[You don't just spring five foot vertical leaps on someone, Jon!! Tim scrambles back because he doesn't trust that Jon won't land on him, but he ends up backed into the couch and then there is a wolf who is his best friend employing a frankly baffling amount of slobber in saying hello.

Despite himself, he starts laughing. At this entire ludicrous situation, sure, but also at how utterly happy Jon is. This is, quite literally, possibly the happiest he's ever seen Jon.

And of course, for a good dog, Tim's hands start ruffling wildly through his fur around his neck and fussing his ears and scritching under his jaw to see if there's a sweet spot.]

Well, good morning to you too, Jon! Can I just- holy shit!

[ There most certainly is, and when Tim finds it, Jon makes a happy but overwhelmed doggy noise before flopping over almost like he's been poleaxed, nuzzling to Tim's arm as he gets those good pets. ]

[Dimly, he makes a note to remember that and see if it works when he's human in the same spot. But for now he keeps rubbing, bringing both hands up to his best boy's head so he can smother him with those good good scritches.]

God, you love that, don't you. This must all be a lot for you, huh? When did this happen?

[ There's a pathetic little doggy noise while he lets himself get those good scritches that says, in no uncertain terms: don't ask him to explain things right now, he has no words, also he's getting scritches and it's nice. ]

[Tim can't help but laugh, low and genuine.]

Jon, you are totally pathetic. [With only the most love in his voice, and one hand switches from his jaw to his ear.] Let me know when you're up for talking, 'cos I've, er. I've got a few questions myself, you know. And spare clothes, if you need.

[ That earns him another pathetic doggy noise, leg kicking a little as Tim scritches before he turns to settle as a loaf on the ground in front of Tim. Okay, okay, they can talk...

His tail is practically a motion blur behind him but they can talk. He will need clothes, though.]

[Tim's still grinning broadly at the sight of Jon like this, but also.]

God this is weird. Okay, uh, first of all, vanity question.

[He takes Jon's head in both hands, running his thumbs gently through the short fur on his muzzle as he tries looking for the familiar scars.]

Was this, er-- [He lifts a hand to gesture over himself and the obvious missing piece.] Was this part of the deal?

[ No scars! Though even if there had been when he'd gotten back, they'd have been gone once he was a werewolf. Part of the package.

That said, Tim's answer is a head weaving back and forth-

Sort of? Sort of. ]

[Sort of? He can accept sort of, if it means a better explanation later.]

And you're happy like this? [Not that the wagging was any sort of fucking subtle, but he needs to check--] You chose to do this?

[ A slightly long suffering sound: yesssssss Dad, he chose this, he wanted this, he's happy- look it this tail! Happy! He'll squirm a little so he can nuzzle at Tim's hands, nudge right in for the affection he craves and usually has the manners to wait for. ]

[Tim can't help but laugh at the enthusiasm, and starts patting Jon's head again.]

I'm just checking! I know you, John, you'll literally cut off your own hand to help someone else, I'm trying to look out for you.

[He lifts his friend's head a little to meet his eyes.]

You planning on staying furry for a while, then? Right now, I mean.

There is no easy doggy way to say 'I would be naked if I changed back so yes' so instead he makes a slightly ridiculous sound and moves to settle in Tim's lap. Or on Tim's lap, as the case may be, where he can continue to both give and receive oodles of affection with one of his favorite people in any world.

Tim gives a gentle 'oof' as he's thumped firmly back against his couch, but he's happy to resign himself to being pinned by his friend and continue scruff-scratching his thick fur.

"God, you're like a bloody hot water bottle," he comments with a grin. "How much of this is just fluff, I swear--"

And he starts shuffling his hands into the fur to see how deep he goes, how small his doggy bestie really is.

Dog!Jon is much like normal Jon: smaller than his personality but bigger than you'd expect from his usual posture. But there is a looot of fluff, a thick outer coat and a coat underneath since they're in January.

Jon doesn't seem to mind, since he makes a happy, prim little noise and lolls his head against Tim's arm with absolute trust.

It's a little bit fun digging through the fur and finding that dense, soft undercoat, and his fingers comb through it carefully to give Jon long, languid back scratches.

"Suppose we should get you a shirt at some point, shouldn't we?" he hums dryly. Making no attempt to stop his scritches. "I do want to hear details."

There's a pathetic noise as he sort of collapses against Tim ever so dramatically.

If he must.

Another oof as more wind gets knocked out of him, and he just starts rolling Jon off his lap.

"Christ you're heavy." As if he's having any actual trouble with Jon, but it's the principle. "I think this is the first time I've seen you looking properly fed."

He manages to stagger to his feet, but pauses mid-crouch at the sight of his closed bedroom door. "Shit - I've got Winnie here," he remembers out loud, looking down at Jon. "Is she gonna be alright? With you being like this, I mean."

He stands up as Tim does, and he makes a thoughtful sort of noise, padding uncertainly as he peers at the closed bedroom door. Winnie was raised by him, an eldritch abomination, and with Lark nearby. He should be fine being near her but he's not sure he wants that yet, not like this.

Instead, he hops a little and pads towards the front door. Maybe he'll go and get changed?

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