Dean was still on the ground when Arion reached him.
He was moving with that calm competence Alamina seemed to breed into its people, like even surprise attacks by giant dogs were a manageable part of the morning schedule.
"Boreas," Arion said, voice firm without being loud.
The malamute paused mid-investigation, ears flicking, then huffed like Dean was clearly an important artifact and Arion was interrupting a vital security check.
"Off."
Boreas, offended by the concept, shifted his weight off Dean with theatrical reluctance and sat immediately beside him instead, shoulder pressed against Dean's ribs like he'd decided his job was to guard his new favorite human from the dangers of… oxygen.
Dean pushed himself upright, brushing at his shirt with irritated hands that did nothing except smear melting snow around.
He opened his mouth.
Arion spoke first.
