Page 113 of Sacrifice
"That was—I clicked it by accident."
"Three times?"
"Shut up."
The shelter is clean but loud, dogs barking from every direction.
The sound hits something primal—pack animals calling to each other.
A volunteer leads us to the back, where three massive dogs wait in a large run.
"These are the ones," she explains. "Came in together, won't separate. The Cane Corso is Rex, the German Shepherd is Luna, and the Rottweiler is Odin."
"Odin?" I ask. "Seriously?"
"Previous owner was into Norse stuff apparently." She opens the pen. "They're trained but need consistent handlers. Not for first-time owners."
"We're not exactly typical first-time owners," I tell her.
The dogs emerge cautiously.
Rex, the Corso, is massive—probably 150 pounds of muscle and protective instinct.
His brindle coat gleams, head broad and powerful.
Luna's smaller but alert, ears constantly moving, cataloging every sound.
Classic German Shepherd coloring, black and tan.
Odin... Odin's a tank with feet.
Solid black, built like he could take down a bear.
"Hey, babies," Elfe coos, dropping to her knees.
"Careful—" I start, but the dogs are already approaching.
Luna goes to Elfe first, tail wagging cautiously.
Rex follows, more reserved, evaluating.
Odin heads straight for Saga.
"Hey, big guy," she murmurs, letting him sniff her hand.
His tail starts wagging, whole body wiggling with joy.
Soon all three dogs are surrounding the women, accepting pets and giving kisses.
The change from cautious to affectionate is remarkable.
"They like you," the volunteer observes, clearly surprised. "That's... unusual. They've been standoffish with everyone."
"We'll take them," I say.
"Don't you want to?—"
"We'll take them." I pull out my wallet. "Whatever fees, shots, supplies they need."
