[ Sylar gave one last resentful look toward the other dog, out of the corner of his eye, and then Peter's eyes were on his, making deliberate, human contact. He licked his nose anxiously, apologetically, and did what he was told, backstepping until he crouched behind Peter, and then so carefully dropped his hindquarters down and sat.
He held onto the ball jealously, and didn't look away from Sam for a second, his ears pricking forward, then falling back soft and submissive again, then back forward, as though he wasn't in proper control of them--which he wasn't.
What was he supposed to do? Stand and watch Peter play with this other dog? ]
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He held onto the ball jealously, and didn't look away from Sam for a second, his ears pricking forward, then falling back soft and submissive again, then back forward, as though he wasn't in proper control of them--which he wasn't.
What was he supposed to do? Stand and watch Peter play with this other dog? ]