Thor's Lieutenant

"He only brought one other person?"

Driving through New York, she braked hard to not hit a black dog. The german shepherd, she identified within seconds, looked frantic. There was flashing silver at its neck.

Pulling her car off the road, she parked and slid out of the driver's seat, watching it run. A mid-aged woman, clearly out of breath, paused beside her. "No," she panted. "Come back!"

"Military dog?" Alora guessed. Dogs whose handlers had died often wore their dog tags. The stranger nodded mutely. Inhaling quickly, Alora brought her fingers to her mouth and whistled sharply and loudly.

The dog skidded to a halt and spun around, ears pricking. Cars swerved to avoid hitting him. Another whistle had him running back to the pair. He trotted up to the women. "Sit," Alora snapped. Folding his back legs under him, he curled his tail around his paws, looking up at the blue-eyed woman. "I swear, they train U.S. dogs the same way every time," she mumbled under her breath.

"Thanks," the person who had chased him caught her breath. "He's supposed to be put down today.."

"I'll take him," Alora's voice was flat. She pulled out her wallet, grabbing a few hundred dollar bills and shoving it into the stranger's hands.

"I'm sorry, you can't just-"

"I know military dogs." She tugged out her dog tags, meeting the stranger's eyes calmly.

"Kennedy?!" Alora had wondered if her name was still known.

Alora turned and opened the side door of her car. Tugging her sweatshirt off, she threw it down onto the seat to provide a barrier. "In," she ordered. The dog leapt up obediently, curling up on her coat. "There is no way you're getting my car dirty," she mumbled, eyeing the dirt clinging to his fur. "Stay."

"His name is Azai. We haven't been able to read his dog tags," the stranger rambled.

"'Kay. Bye." Closing the door, she got into the driver seat of her car and took off.

❃

A young blonde ran toward her, forest green eyes sparkling. "Hii! I missed you," she chirped, leaping into the woman's waiting arms.

Alora hugged the six-year old tight. "Missed you too, Wren." She glanced at the parents, who were walking by. "Sorry for being late," the former military officer winced.

"It's totally fine," the mom, Ella, waved her off. "We don't really want to go, anyways,"

Abram, the dad, smiled lazily at her. "This is going to be boring," he whined, letting his wife drag him away.

The moment they were gone, Wren stopped waving and turned her attention to her babysitter. "I'm reading through First Samuel," she grinned, wiggling out of Alora's arms.

"Wow, you read fast," she managed a smile and walked with Wren into the house. "Do you want me to read genealogy to you or do you want to come shopping with me?" Alora was a Christian. The reason the label wasn't on her dog tags was to avoid being bullied for it.

"Shopping!" Wren cheered, pumping the air with her fist.

The two went to her corvette and Alora opened the door for her. She slid into the back seats of the car and came to a realization. "Alora, you have a dog in your car."

"How observant," she replied wryly, going around the car to her seat. The dog hadn't moved a muscle. "This is Azai. I just adopted him. He's a former military dog so be careful when touching him."