Setting: First floor, moving around
Time: Day 13, past midday
Summary: Weapondog doggy paddles around the house.
Warnings: 1's horrible speech patterns, short OP because 1 is a dog.
So much water!
1 was fortunately waterproof--it would not have occurred to him that he wouldn't be--but he was unable to remain standing in the water's height at this point, and walking had become an impossibility. Instead, the military weapon swam, for the most part--his back feet were long enough to touch the floor and he used them to propel himself around, pushing off the tile with his strong hindquarters, his shorter front legs paddling somewhat more uselessly before him. Where was 'Baird?'
The dog floated through the grand room, his nose raised to smell for clues, hoping for hints of the We-Man or something else familiar. Strange house! Strange water! 1 paddled past the piano. Bad! He was feeling worse, too, although he could not put words to it--or not very well. He knew that he felt 'bad.' Sickbad. Hunger growled at him from deep insidehis metal skin, but he did not want to eat. No food. Danger.