The dog is smart enough to let herself out but if Bucky left the food out she would just eat it all, so. Kind of strange that she's figured out how to feed herself? Usually his nightmares are so vivid that it's not safe for him to sleep with even one arm draped over the old girl, but there's something about that distant voice and the clinking of pellets against the food bowl that has Bucky stirring with a sniff.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he gropes around the space in front of him. No dog trying to eat his hair even after he's cut most of it off or lick his face pestering him for breakfast.
"...Themba?" A raspy low voice calls out from the living room, echoing off the floor. The sound of dull metal thunking against the floor as Bucky rolls over and stretches his arm out, followed by a whistle comes through a little more clearly now that he's not just mumbling to the floor. "Come here, girl," he adds in Xhosa. She hears him of course, recognises her name and that command, but she's torn between inhaling breakfast and being a good girl.
When Zemo walks into the living room he will find Bucky almost-but-not-quite-awake, starting to push himself to a sitting position on the floor, wearing nothing but plain black boxer briefs with a thin flat sheet draped over his stomach and crotch. Nothing to see here but a weapon growing rusty in its sheath, determined to attain some semblance of a peaceful retired life. There's even a flannel shirt draped over the backrest of the lone chair in the living room, a flag to signify his commitment to going full country with his three animals and a whole lotta nothing.
Nobody told him you can't do it the slow way around 😒
Squeezing his eyes shut, he gropes around the space in front of him. No dog trying to eat his hair even after he's cut most of it off or lick his face pestering him for breakfast.
"...Themba?" A raspy low voice calls out from the living room, echoing off the floor. The sound of dull metal thunking against the floor as Bucky rolls over and stretches his arm out, followed by a whistle comes through a little more clearly now that he's not just mumbling to the floor. "Come here, girl," he adds in Xhosa. She hears him of course, recognises her name and that command, but she's torn between inhaling breakfast and being a good girl.
When Zemo walks into the living room he will find Bucky almost-but-not-quite-awake, starting to push himself to a sitting position on the floor, wearing nothing but plain black boxer briefs with a thin flat sheet draped over his stomach and crotch. Nothing to see here but a weapon growing rusty in its sheath, determined to attain some semblance of a peaceful retired life. There's even a flannel shirt draped over the backrest of the lone chair in the living room, a flag to signify his commitment to going full country with his three animals and a whole lotta nothing.