While the watchdog was having the time of his life chasing a frisbee, Six snuck off in search of an unsupervised adventure. Her muddy feet took her into a used book shop on the far side of town.
An incredibly hairy man in a nightgown and a blue knit cap sat behind the counter reading a book of fairy tales by the light of an old franklin stove.
“Total crap.” He tossed the volume onto the flames and leaned forward to get a better look at Six. His copper framed reading glasses slipped down his long nose. “What do you want, little girl?”
“You’re a wolf-man.” She said, “A wolf-man that burns books.”
“Only the bad ones.” The werewolf explained. “We get more donations than we have storage for so the best course of action is just to burn them. The local library sells theirs to the paper mill to be pulped and turned into spam mail, so really we’re doing everyone a favor.”
“Why are you wearing an old dressing gown?” Six pressed. “It’s hardly appropriate for public wear.”
“Werewolves wear what we want.” He said simply. “I can’t help but notice that you aren’t frightened of me. Why is that?”
“For ferocious femmes fear finds few footholds.” Six alliterated back. “Besides, if you hurt me my foster father would turn you into a rug. Possibly while you’re still alive.”
This seemed to take the werewolf aback. “Well I would hate to have that happen. It sounds fairly unpleasant. What’s your name?”
“Six.” She did a mock curtsey. “What’s yours?”
“Well my real name is Francis but everyone calls me Granny.” Granny said with a shrug.
“Believe me, it’s a long story and I don’t want to get into it. But you are free to browse my shop for as long as you like. You can even share my fire if you choose.”
Six looked into the flames, knowing that any warmth coming from it was the result of tortured and dying works of literature as they burned to ash. “I think I’d rather freeze.” She replied.
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“Suit yourself.” Granny kicked his hairy heels up on the counter. “Just don’t get lost and whatever you do, don’t spend too long in the non-fiction section or go into the back stacks.”
“Oh? And what happens if I do?” The girl shot Granny a look of defiance.
“Well, then you’re history.” Granny replied.
***
Sometime later the hellhound followed Six’s scent to a shop called Granny’s Books. He shoved his bulk through the door and started sniffing around.
“No dogs allowed.” Granny said from his place by the fire. “Store rules.” He pointed to a handwritten sign.
Titan looked him dead in the eyes. “I FIND THAT POLICY SOMEWHAT HYPOCRITICAL.”
“Dear lord, you can talk!” Granny almost fell out of his chair in surprise.
“YET YOU ASSUMED THAT I COULD READ. WHY WOULD YOU ASSUME THAT I COULD READ BUT BE SURPRISED WHEN I COULD SPEAK?” The hellhound asked in a voice like the gates of hell slamming shut.
“Well… I… I...” Granny stammered but before he could think of an answer Titan had wandered off in search of Six. “I really hate this town sometimes.” He said to himself.
He went back to his book but stopped when he felt something tugging at his foot. “What do you want now?” He asked the hellhound.
“WHY ARE YOU WEARING A NIGHTGOWN IN THE DAYTIME?” Titan asked.
“It’s a long story.” Granny said defensively. He looked at the monstrous hound. “Why would a talking dog wander into a bookstore?”
“I AM LOOKING FOR SOMETHING, A SMALL CHILD. FOUR FEET TALL WITH AN EXPRESSION LIKE THIS...” Titan narrowed his eyes and looked at Granny suspiciously. The resemblance was uncanny. “SHE DISTRACTED ME WITH A GAME CALLED FETCH.”
“Last I saw she was sneaking into the back stacks near the non-fiction section.” Granny pointed to a section clearly marked with warning tape and caution signs. “I told her to be careful but... well… you know kids.”
“NO, I REALLY DO NOT.” The hellhound trotted off leaving Granny alone in the front of the bookshop. Granny could hear Titan’s toenails clicking on the wood floor long after he had vanished into the back stacks.