"Don't praise him!" Mikey yelled at Enid with a distressed look across his face, his arms tugging desperately on the leather leash in an attempt to pull his beast back "I'm trying to train him not to jump on people"
But Enid ignored him and kept praising the dog wildly and big excitement layered in her attitude towards the dog
"Good boy, goody goody good boy!"
Ron laughed and joined her in praising the dog as the beast jumped onto them with two feet on the ground and his forefeet trying to find grip on the two teens.
Mikey tried his best pulling Ernie on the leash but the beast was just too strong, or fat, perhaps both.
Enid has just returned from her trip to the woods with the new boy and it was just a matter of time Ron began spurting our questions, as many as he could come up with and as casual as possible
What's he like?
Did you tell him about us?
What did you guys do?
Is he weird?
What happened to his eye?
Will he hang out with us sometime?
...
She gave him a weird look and answered to some of his questions, leaving out some as if she didn't bother to answer them or just forgot about them midtalking
"I just showed him a couple of cool places you guys will never know about, and he's chill, probably out of your league, so don't get your hopes up" she said, finishing with a sly smirk
Ron pictured Carl Grimes in his head:
the boy with the bright blue eye,
which colour looked bright
yet so dark.
Shaded,
not from the sun
but with the dark aura he carried around him,
he was like a curse spoken from an angel.
He pictured him standing close in front of him,
close enough for Ron to reach out with his hand and trail up his cheek
to dive into the strands of greasy, chestnut hair. The oil would stick to the skin on his fingers and leave a greasy glow on them, but he wouldn't mind it,
just another part of Carl he found so fascinating
Their eyes would met, lock,
and Carl would see the dark green,
Ron the blue
He bet that Carl would think he had brown eyes,
everyone did
before they got close up to him,
his eye colour weren't anything special,
people tend to overlook them,
there was just nothing about them to brag about their dark colour,
but maybe, maybe, Carl would find interest in them
"Wow, Ron. Why so eager to know?" Mikey asked, staring at him with big eyes but his mocking grin was even so big as he noticed that he interrupted Ron in his wishful thinking
"Wha-" Ron spoke out perplexed, the sudden words of his best friend hitting him such surprise, taking him off guard, so much that he didn't notice that he was falling
He didn't give much recognition to the rain and damp streets until he splashed butt-first, into one of the puddles on the ground, shortly after, he was squished by the cow-sized beast and his face was the next wet thing.
His friends howled in laughter.
And then,
as if a sweet-scented breeze declared his presence
he stood there.
Busily talking with two older men but stealing glances at Ron
as if he was talking about him.
A shudder ran down his spine and Ron had to interpreted it to know from what it was caused from-the water that has begun soaking into his shoes and pants or the fact that Carl Grimes was talking about him?
He shook the thought away,
wishful thinking was never good,
his mother told him.
Of course Carl wasn't talking about him,
and if he was then he probably pointed out what an idiot he was for letting a dog- probably twice his size- mount him, which would obviously result in him either falling backwards or bruises from its hideously big but snub claws
Maybe it wasn't smart
to get his hopes high up
Because what raises high,
Falls deep
And when you hit the ground
every single piece of what's you,
shatters away in all directions
But Ron couldn't help it,
he saw him and started fantasising about him, with the laughter of his friends in the background