“Is this why we fell into such an easy friendship? I reminded you of…a beloved dog?” “No,” Islington scowled but it was conquered with a laugh. A laugh too gleeful, at that. “And there was nothing easy about falling into our friendship.” That is how Islington ended up feigning a run before striding out of the kennel, my following behind, with half a dozen dogs running along for the joy of it all. “I never said it wasn’t diverting,” he called over his shoulder. “You’re going to rot, Islington. I don’t exactly know where, but at some time, some place, you will rot!”
