[Jerry Miller's veterinary office]

"My god, Doc... you've got enough stuff here to last through the
next ice age," Andre Nimzevich grunted as he lifted the last heavy
box onto a high shelf in Jerry's storage room.

"Yes, yes, I know. But I always feel it's better to be prepared.
Around here, there are wolves coming in for treatment among
everything else. And coming in on their own, no less. I don't think
that I want to risk being out of something that could be needed
desperately. The Styptics and bandages, in particular, given the
nature of fighting that takes place out there."

"But you know better than anybody, I guess, don't you, Doc."

"Well, I guess I do, but I'm still an outsider, Andre, remember
that," Jerry replied with a gentle sigh. He pushed his glasses back
up onto his nose from where they'd slipped. "There are a lot of
wolves, in particular the truly wild ones, who would sooner die than
let me lay a hand on them. I try not to antagonize those sorts."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. Hey...doc...do you ever stop to think
that maybe we're involved in a lot of really weird stuff up here. I
mean, talking animals, wolf spirits, dog shadows...government
projects, diseases...you name it."

"Not bad for a retired veterinarian, huh," Jerry laughed. Andre
couldn't help but laugh in response.

OFF: Just some Character Development. Cuz I was in the mood. *hugs
to all*


Sparf