[There has been an abundance of snowballs being thrown, Will has seen. He's been on the receiving end twice, which is more reason to stay inside, even if his room isn't as big as his house and he's living with other people. Even if there's a limit on how many dogs he can have and he has to share a bathroom. Holing up is preferable to that sort of that, and staying miserable in bed is easier when it's so damn cold out.
Fortunately, he's found that people throw less of them his way when he's out with the biggest dog of his collection, a mutt that comes up just past his knees. She has a narrow snout with very dark eyes and a color scheme that, he assumes, comes across as threatening. Whatever the case, he hasn't had any issue whenever he chooses her for his outings, so she gets top priority when he has to go long distances. He tends to keep his head down, honestly, but keeping it down too much makes him look suspicious. He's not good socially, but he knows basic cues. Guy who looks down the entire time he walks with a dog by his side? Something's wrong.
When he looks up this time, however, he must look a little suspicious. He stops immediately, almost like he's run into some invisible wall. The dog stops, sits, and eventually starts to groom herself, that's how long he's stiffly frozen right in place, and it has nothing to do with the weather. He sees her. He remembers her. He sees antlers, a swarm of flies scattering, he sees hunting, he sees a mangled version of a stag, he sees, he sees, he sees her. That last time he saw her, he can't remember. For that, just like with everything else involving Abigail Hobbs, there's guilt.
And with Abigail Hobbs, there's also Hannibal. Her fathers, he'd said. He felt obligated, yes. He'd bought her things and reconsidered, found them as inappropriate at students clapping at him bringing a serial killer down. Poorly timed. Ill-fitting. The only thing that fit was one man's mask, his skin suit, and eventually it unraveled Will while staying completely stitched up.
But Will is better now, or getting there. The Abigail Hobbs he sees has two ears. She has two complete ears just like everyone else. What this means, he does not know. He finds himself walking towards her without realizing it, hands clenched tightly in his jacket pockets, palms protected from digging nails thanks to the need for gloves. He doesn't know when she's from. He doesn't know anything about her here, which is almost on par with how he saw (or refused to see) her back in their home. His voice could either cause her more distress or give her calm, but he has to take the risk. He has to give her space, he knows, so when he's sure enough that people won't overhear and that he also won't be shouting, he finally speaks, the dog's ears focused on his voice while her eyes focus on said teenager fighting off a panic attack.]
Abigail.
[What had he last said to her? Something about her being her father's daughter, maybe? Something that...saying her last name, he thinks, is uncalled for. The most famous Hobbs in recent history is not one she wants to be associated with.
She can make up a fake one if she wants. He'll respect it. He couldn't protect her, and he'd insulted her the last he remembered. But here, now? He won't let it get that way, if she lets him.]
no subject
Fortunately, he's found that people throw less of them his way when he's out with the biggest dog of his collection, a mutt that comes up just past his knees. She has a narrow snout with very dark eyes and a color scheme that, he assumes, comes across as threatening. Whatever the case, he hasn't had any issue whenever he chooses her for his outings, so she gets top priority when he has to go long distances. He tends to keep his head down, honestly, but keeping it down too much makes him look suspicious. He's not good socially, but he knows basic cues. Guy who looks down the entire time he walks with a dog by his side? Something's wrong.
When he looks up this time, however, he must look a little suspicious. He stops immediately, almost like he's run into some invisible wall. The dog stops, sits, and eventually starts to groom herself, that's how long he's stiffly frozen right in place, and it has nothing to do with the weather. He sees her. He remembers her. He sees antlers, a swarm of flies scattering, he sees hunting, he sees a mangled version of a stag, he sees, he sees, he sees her. That last time he saw her, he can't remember. For that, just like with everything else involving Abigail Hobbs, there's guilt.
And with Abigail Hobbs, there's also Hannibal. Her fathers, he'd said. He felt obligated, yes. He'd bought her things and reconsidered, found them as inappropriate at students clapping at him bringing a serial killer down. Poorly timed. Ill-fitting. The only thing that fit was one man's mask, his skin suit, and eventually it unraveled Will while staying completely stitched up.
But Will is better now, or getting there. The Abigail Hobbs he sees has two ears. She has two complete ears just like everyone else. What this means, he does not know. He finds himself walking towards her without realizing it, hands clenched tightly in his jacket pockets, palms protected from digging nails thanks to the need for gloves. He doesn't know when she's from. He doesn't know anything about her here, which is almost on par with how he saw (or refused to see) her back in their home. His voice could either cause her more distress or give her calm, but he has to take the risk. He has to give her space, he knows, so when he's sure enough that people won't overhear and that he also won't be shouting, he finally speaks, the dog's ears focused on his voice while her eyes focus on said teenager fighting off a panic attack.]
Abigail.
[What had he last said to her? Something about her being her father's daughter, maybe? Something that...saying her last name, he thinks, is uncalled for. The most famous Hobbs in recent history is not one she wants to be associated with.
She can make up a fake one if she wants. He'll respect it. He couldn't protect her, and he'd insulted her the last he remembered. But here, now? He won't let it get that way, if she lets him.]