Chapter Text
Grey Wind’s fur was soft beneath her hand. He smelled so lovely after his bath, like the special soap her mama uses to wash her hair. Alexis pressed her face into his side, inhaling deeply like one would to smell a flower.
She nuzzles her cheek against him. “You’re so lovely and clean,” she tells him, and smiles when he grumbles quietly in agreement.
Alexis loves her boy. Even if his brown fur is turning a little grey now, and he can’t walk as far as he used to, she still adores him with all her heart. Sometimes she gets kind of annoyed when he chews her shoes or when he wants to sleep with her in bed but ends up on top of her, crushing her chest, like he still thinks he’s a puppy, but she can’t stay mad at him and his big puppy eyes for long.
Most days, she wishes he could talk. Grey Wind is her best friend, and it feels so unfair that he can’t tell her how he feels. Her dad says she yaps to him like a wife nagging her husband, that she should leave the poor old man alone sometimes. But he doesn’t understand, her doggie likes it when she talks to him. He would talk back if he could. They’d talk all day and night, and Alexis would ask him everything about himself, which paths around the forest he likes the most, what his favourite colour is, whether he thinks Mama’s chicken stew isn’t as good anymore either… and maybe, if she was brave enough, she’d dare to ask him about her older brother.
She buries her face further into his fur at the thought, wishing desperately that he would speak right now. He grumbled again, but she knew he didn’t mind—that meant he was going to sleep. Despite laying on the uneven floorboards of the living room, Alexis followed suit soon after, curling into his warmth.
A sigh followed by a soft, muffled voice awakens her eventually. Grey Wind’s tail is thudding metronomically against the floor, but he lays still until she forces herself to sit up, wiping at her groggy eyes as she blearily watches him stretch and slowly ample over to the front door, where her mama stands.
“Yes, hello, Grey,” Mama greets, struggling to pet the dog with the basket of laundry balanced against her hip. “Have you had a nice nap, hmm?”
He boofs in response, giving her hand a sloppy kiss before exiting the door she kept held open with her foot.
“And what about you, sweetie?” she asks, a warm smile on her face. Laughter dances in her eyes, and Alexis’ hands fly to her hair, trying futilely to fix her hair some. “Oh, don’t bother. I can brush it in a moment, if you’d like.”
Her eyes light up at the idea of Mama brushing her hair. “Yes, please!”
“Okay, but you have to help me put the laundry away first, yeah?” When she nods, Mama grins. “Good girl. Could you carry the basket for me, too?”
Alexis is great at putting away laundry, or so she and her dad think; her mama would argue otherwise. Apparently putting the clothes in the right drawer isn’t the entire point—you have to put them away neatly, fold them up to make sure they won't get wrinkled. She doesn’t really get why wrinkles are such a big deal—Dad has wrinkles, and Mama still likes him—but she isn’t supposed to question grown ups (that she knows. Strangers are different). Instead of arguing over it, she just puts the clothes gently where they belong after Mama folds them. They get into a good rhythm usually, and can be finished really quick!
As promised, once she helps with the chore, her mama tells her to grab the hair brush. Alexis loves the way the soft bristles glide against her scalp, closing her eyes to enjoy the feeling as she settles against Mama’s legs.
“If I saw a shooting star,” she said into the calm atmosphere, earning a soft hmm? in response, “I’d wish for Grey Wind to be able to speak. I’d ask him so many questions… What would you ask him?”
Mama chuckles quietly, and behind her Alexis feels her lean slightly, reaching across the bed to pet the dog. “I’d ask him why he always uses the bathroom in Papa’s boots when he knows I have to clean them every time. And then I’d ask him to stop doing that.”
A giggle bubbles in Alexis’ chest. She doesn’t say that she’d seen Grey Wind by the shoes earlier with his leg up. She’ll let Mama discover that on her own.
“What about you, Lexi? What would you ask him?”
The question weighs on her heavily as she considers it, brush gliding gently through her thin hair all the while. “Do I only have one question?” she asks, unable to decide amongst the thousands she would hound him with, if she had the chance.
“Well, I had two, so you can too.”
Alexis stews on it for a while, and Mama lets her, the bedroom falling into a comfortable quiet. Grey Wind’s soft snores fill the space instead, until she finally has her answer.
“I’d ask him if he likes to go on walks with me still,” she decides, desperately wanting to know if he did. Sometimes he seems so tired, like he’s dragging his paws along just to keep up with her. It makes her sad, so she just wants to know if he still enjoys it as much as she does.
“That’s a good one,” Mama affirms. “I think he’d say yes.” Grey Wind grumbles in his sleep, as if in agreement. “And your second one?”
For a moment she gnaws on her lip, her front tooth wobbling against it, wondering if she really should say it. “And as well…” she begins hesitantly, wringing her hands in her lap, “I would ask if he remembers Brian.”
The air seems to grow heavy when Mama goes silent. The brushing stops.
“Alexis,” Mama mumbles, her other hand moving to grip her shoulder. “Don’t mention that name ever again.”
A sickly feeling washes over her, and her eyes widen in confusion. Alexis tilts her head, but the hand on her shoulder prevents her from turning to see her Mama’s face. “Why?” she wonders. “We never talk about him…”
“For good reason,” her mother snaps, but she doesn’t explain it. Nobody ever does. “I never want to hear that name come from your mouth ever again. Do you understand me?”
Tears prick in the corner of Alexis’ eyes. “That’s not fair!”
“Do you understand me?” she asks, a firmness in her voice that she rarely ever uses.
With a huff, Alexis wipes her eyes. She can’t understand why Mama’s mood changed so suddenly, but she doesn’t want to anger her any more in case she won’t keep brushing her hair. “Yes… sorry.”
Mama sighs heavily, and pats her shoulder lightly. “It’s okay,” she assures her, before continuing to run the brush through her hair, much more lightly this time.
The telltale sound of Grey Wind’s collar rattling as he shakes makes Alexis want to see where he’s going, but she doesn’t dare turn her head, worried she’ll see an expression she doesn’t like on Mama’s face. As it turns out, the soft thump she hears from the other side of the bed doesn’t mean he was headed downstairs like she assumed, but that he was coming to her. With a low grumble, he settles down beside her, resting his heavy head on her leg.