(no subject)

[blindbirdboy]

[Whistling low to assess his surroundings]

Comments

[1isbandit]

Bandit put his nose to the ground, following the scents to where all the meat was being kept. This was the easiest job by far, for Bandit merely needed to use his instincts, very little thinking required. At the question, Bandit gave a big, doggie smile.

Beef. Lots and lots.

He takes Iggy right to nearest deli, plenty of cured meats hanging in the windows.

Here. Meat place deli.

[blindbirdboy]

"All the beeves, gotcha." He replied, smile going a little crooked, "Sit tight, I'll be right back, then we'll see if we can't find someplace to sit and eat."

They had, apparently, just beaten the lunch rush, which was just fine with Iggy, as it meant he was in and out fairly quickly, and didn't much have to worry about a crowd making things difficult.

He emerged again before long, the bag with the sandwiches in one hand, "Hope you like wheat bread, they wouldn't sell me a sandwich with no bread on it."

[1isbandit]

Bread gud for dogs. Bandit says this with an almost sly tone to his robotic voice. He knows very well he's not supposed to eat bread, but he's all dog. He's certainly not going to turn down chunks of bread surrounded by all that good meat.

Com. We sit. Bandit leads Iggy over to a nearby bench. His tail is thumping around again inside his suit, producing a muted sort of thumping sound as he anticipates being able to get some meat.

[blindbirdboy]

Iggy knew that bread wasn't necessarily good for dogs, but that a little bit wouldn't hurt, the same as the two slices of cheese on the sandwich weren't exactly nutritionally sound, but wouldn't do Bandit any real harm, especially as he seemed sturdier than most dogs.

Sitting down after only a moment to suss out just where the bench actually was, he wedged the bag with his purchases between his feet. He pulled the bag with the sandwiches out of the top, running his fingers over the wrappers, setting one in his lap and unwrapping the other, setting it on the bench beside him where Bandit could get it, with a warning of: "Don't eat the paper."

[1isbandit]

Bandit dives into the sandwich with the gusto only a dog can have. Food is the stuff of life for dogs and they generally think with their stomachs. He tries to enjoy rather than woofing it all down at once, but he still finishes quite a bit of time before Iggy does.

He sits there and licks all the way around his chops and nose, getting all the bits stuck to his furry face that he missed the first time around. Bandit happy dog!