FLUFFY THE THREE-HEADED DOG
a character's "moment of peace" in nature is interrupted

The snow was quiet. Frost clung to the blades of grass in silver threads and when the wind moved across the moor it did not roar but rather sighed. They liked the sighing. Tucked into a shallow hollow between stones, belly pressed to the cold earth where the snow had been thinned by restless shifting, they watched as tiny snowflakes accumulated on each of their noses before one swift curl of the tongue lapped the pile away. The cold did not bother them too much. It made the air taste cleaner and three noses to work constantly to take in the frost, stone, a distant rabbit, the faint metallic tang of their own muzzles.

The muzzles.

Those sat wrong against their faces. Leather tight where it should not be tight, buckle heavy beneath small jaws. When they tried to yawn, the muzzle resisted. When they tried to bark, the sound caught and dulled to a whine or whimper. They pawed at it, once. Then pawed at another. The straps did not yield, not even a little. One head whimpered softly. Another huffed in frustration. The third licked at snow instead, trying to forget it.

Snowflakes drifted down lazily, catching in the soft fur between their ears. One landed on the tip of his nose and lingered there, melting slowly. The head blinked cross-eyed at it, then sneezed. All three heads startled at the suddenness of the sound, then relaxed again.

They rolled onto one side, wriggling his back into the frost, paws bicycling at the pale sky. For a moment they forgot the tightness around his mouths and the strange hands that had fitted it there.

The crunch of boots shattered the hush and all three heads snapped upright, nose sniffing the air as the wind shifted, carrying scent. Distinctively Human. Two of them. The puppy shrank before he even saw either ― body low, belly close to the ground, ears flattened so tightly they nearly vanished into his fur. His tail tucked hard beneath him. Three heads pulled inward, necks folding to make himself smaller, smaller, smaller and froze as all six eyes fixated on the shapes crested the hill like moving boulders against the sky.

The narrow one spoke quickly, gesturing, while the other figure loomed behind him. The figure was huge. Not just tall but vast. A shadow that swallowed the frost-bright world whole. Each step pressed deep into the snow with a sound that vibrated through the ground.

The great shape stopped and ground stopped trembling.

Then something unexpected happened.

The giant lowered, slowly. Carefully.

The massive shape folded in on itself, sinking into the snow until it was no longer towering, no longer blotting out the sky. They blinked, all six eyes at once, and shivered. The giant watched them, breath fogging in slow, steady clouds over their fuzzy faces.

His voice came next ― low, rough, but quiet and warm ― and their middle head tilted first, confused. The left followed. The right lagged behind, still wary and a growl muffled behind their muzzle. A gloved hand extended, enormous and easily large enough to encircle their whole ribcage, but it stopped halfway, hovering in the space between them. Their tail did not lift, but did loosen from its tight curl. The giant did not move forward, and they scooted one paw's worth forward to sniff the outstretched hand. Once each head had had their turn, snow crunched softly beneath their paws as their shifted forward more. And then a little more. Then more still until three noses reached the bare hand that smelled of something gentle. The giant’s breath hitched in wonder, causing them to retreat a couple paces.

"Well now," the giant murmured, standing and reaching into their pocket for a sack that jingled as it was passed to the other human and they crept forward again. "Aren't yeh somethin' special." The giant knelt again, the enormous hand moving towards them again but only enough to brush tenderly against the side of their head, fingers scratching the one place behind their ear the muzzle could not touch on their rightmost head. "I think I'll be callin' yeh Fluffy," the giant murmured, a smile tugging through his beard. "An' don' you worry now. We'll have those awful muzzles off in no time. No need for that sort o' thing where you're goin'."

A sound slipped from their chest, small but bright with feeling. Then their tail began to wag, tentative at first, then faster, thumping unevenly against the snow.