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There's a pond! Or a little bit of sea, anyway. It's weird.

Though perhaps not as weird as the big earth bunker. Claire met the girl who made the big earth bunker. There was sarcasm, and lots of suspicious question. Claire doesn't think she's liked much in that quarter.

But now she's nowhere near the big earth bunker nor the house with Sylar-who-will-be in it, and out by the pond, sitting near the edge as she re-reads her book on Evolution.

Mr Muggles is crouching at the edge of the pond, occasionally barking at it.

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And now, he isn't.

But there are some bubbles that weren't there before.

Slurp.

The pond is new and Will heads over then sees the blonde girl and stops, feeling nervous though odd noises are coming from the pool,

"Think might be somethin' in there, milady, keep seein' bubbles."

Claire looksup at the slurp, frowning in confusion as she tries to figure out what just happened.

Seconds later she's discarded her book and is up to her elbows in salt water.

"Mr Muggles?"

There is SILENCE FROM THE MURKY DEEPS.

Then there is a small, wet, and very irritated Pomeranian flying through the air. Think Artoo-Detoo in the Dagobah swamp. wwooooooooooooOOOOOOOooooooosplot.

With suckermarks on his legs.

The kraken peeks above the water with big, sad eyes, and rubs its bitten tentacles together woefully.

"Yeah?"

Claire glances up, at the pond then at Will.

"Sure it's not one of those natural spring pool things?"

She knows she's in Kansas. It doesn't mean she knows naything about the geology of the area.

The bubbles increase, a tentacle waves at them, and then vanishes quickly.

Spots is shy.

Claire darts back and fails to catch Mr. Muggles. But she does gather the poor bedraggled dog up into her arms, only crying a little bit.

"Hey, boy, ssssh."

Mr. Muggles yelps and cries and shivers and generally laps up the attention.

Will points to the tentacle,

"See, tis somethin' in there, milady. An dinna think tis a spring, they're usually cleaner least the ones in Sherwood are."

Claire peers at the tentacle.

Mr. Muggles is picked up and set a little way away from the pond.

"Maybe this is a special dirty volcanic spring?"

"Aye, well guess could be milady just thought volcanoes were taller an tisna any 'ills round 'ere barely any trees."

He's just going to look awkward and at Mr. Muggles and blink a lot,

"Is that supposed to be a dog?"

Spots hauls himself out of the water with a handful of tentacles and sits on the edge, sniffling at her.

Can cephalopods have runny noses?

This one does.

Also, big sploshy tears.

HE WAS HUNGRY. NOBODY'S FED HIM YET and he tried dragging the seabed for drowned sailors the way Mummy taught him, but there weren't any and it was only a little seabed and he misses his mummy and his new daddies are gone away and the dog bit him and waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

Claire, who has no positionfrom which to argue geology, stares at him with mild offence.

"Yes, he's a dog!"

Claire is still protectionating Mr.Muggles.

"Go on," she says, nudging at Spot with a foot - not kicking, just trying to get him back in the ocean. "Scat."

Will's used to dogs being larger and good at taking down boar or deer and blushes and looks even more awkeward,

"Just 'e's so small, milady. Is 'e for chasin' rats?"

IF HE HAD A LOWER LIP IT WOULD BE WOBBLING, CLAIRE.

As it is, he's just wobbling all over. And crying.

"Maaama! Mamaaaa!"

Sokka was walking. But now he's running.

"CLAIRE!"

Don't worry, Claire! He will protect you from the kraken!

... that's about the size of a shoebox.

WITH HIS SWORD.

"Get!"

Claire pushes the kraken again. GET INTO THE POND, YOU SQUIDLY THING. Mr. Muggles yaps, in agreement.

On hearing her name called, though, she looks over.

"Hey, Sokka," she says, first with frustration and then, "...I don't think you need to attack it with a sword."

SIZE OF A SHOEBOX.

Sokka is giving the kraken a narrow-eyed stare, at least until it disappears into the pond.

"One of those things broke Nooyawk," he informs Claire, still with sword between girl and pond. "...a bigger one."

"No," she says. "He's a pet. He's not for anything."

A week ago she would have made fun of Pomeranians with anyone. Now he's her only family.

Time to fiddle with bandages,

"Oh aye, milady, just well um, only know nobles who 'ave dogs who are just pets is all."

"A squid ate New York?"

Claire would be able to be fully disbelieving if she didn't have a wet armful of squid-broke dog.

Also if she hadn't fallen through from another world and if Sokka's friend couldn't hit things with rocks bigger than she is.

"He beat up Mr. Muggles, but I think the town is safe."

"Well, good for you."

It's possible Claire misunderstood this to imply he was lucky enough to know nobles. She stops being so irritable when she notices the bandages, though.

"He belongs to my Mom," she offers.

Sokka nods.

He does not trust the tiny tentacly thing. Backing away from the water!

"It was bigger than the big houses. Jack called it a kraken. I'm pretty sure that's a baby one."

He has no idea what he's done well, more fiddling. Lucky to know nobles would bring out fun bitterness and all, so its best he doesn't pick up on that,

"Um aye, milady, 'e looks sweet."

Claire is being backed away from the water by a guy with a sword, talking in all sincerity about how a bigger version of that little squid thing destroyed the whole of New York city.

Her life is so much weirder than that time New York almost blew up.

"I don't think the pond has any really big ones," she says helpfully. "You want to come help give the dog a bath?"

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