Dakota winces at the pain but let's him clean up the wound. Hank puts a small thing of ice in a ziplock bag, wrapping the wet cloth around it. He applies it to her cheek, seeing how it's already bruised. She'll feel it in the morning.
...
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The rain pours down on Thorne Bush. It had been that way for the whole day and the weatherman had said the rainstorm was not over. Dakota lays on her stomach, sprawled out in the bed. Hank has his little spot on his side, which is twenty-five percent of the bed. Lightening strikes, thunder lightly rumbling. Humphrey whines in the other room. Hank groans, hating how the dog has been whining the entire day. He can barely recall a time when he had the house to himself and how peaceful it had been. Suddenly, Humphrey begins barking. Hank lets out a groan, wiping his hand over his face. Humphrey barks once again, louder. "Shut up, Humphrey!" Hank shouts at the barking dog. Humphrey continues to bark. Dakota turns over, burying her head into the pillow. Hank wonders how she can sleep with all of Humphrey's barking. "Humphrey, I said quit!" Hank shouts, growling. Humphrey hurries into the bedroom, over to Hank's side. The dog whines, begging Hank. "Mutt, get out of my face." Hank snarls at the dog. Suddenly, Humphrey's ears straighten and he freezes as if he were listening. The dog walks out of the bedroom and into the living room. Hank turns over on his side, facing a sleeping Dakota. "Ahh, maybe I can get some sleep." Hank says sleepily. Humphrey begins whining. In the heat of the moment, Hank sits up in bed angrily. "I SAID SHUT THE F—" Humphrey is at the bedroom door, looking backwards and forth between Hank and towards the kitchen. Then it dawns on Hank that maybe there's something outside. Or someone. After grabbing the hand gun hidden at his side of the bed, Hank walks to the kitchen where Humphrey whines. The dog's ears become straight and he jumps up on the door, barking uncontrollably. Hank pushes the dog aside and looks through the window of the front door. The 28 year old man can barely keep his laughter in as he watches an old black lady run towards her house with her hands waving in the air. "Mona." Hank shakes his head as she chuckles, looking down at the dog. "You sure scared the shit out of Mona, boy." Humphrey puts his paw up for Hank, whining for attention. Hank looks back to see if maybe Dakota had gotten up but after he hears how silent the house is, he looks back at the dog. With a smirk, Hank pets Humphrey. The dog pants, wagging its tail happily. Hank scratches behind its ear, making the dog stomp its foot. He makes the dog look at him. "You still look like a Mutt to me." Hank went back to bed and fell asleep immediately. Humphrey laid down on Hank's side of the room.
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