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Summary
Shane groaned, eyes cracking open with great effort, the distant sound of barking getting closer and closer, and he couldn’t help but wince at the volume as it pierced right through him.
“Anya.” He managed to get out, and the dog in question nudged at his head, another groan eliciting from Shane’s lips at the movement.
He was struggling to understand what was happening, but everything was fuzzy and scrambled and he couldn't hold onto a single thought for long enough to string anything tangible together.
“Ilya.” He exhaled as Anya nudged him again. “Get Ilya….Anya, find Ilya.”
or
Shane slips and falls on ice while out walking Anya, and Anya is just your everyday Lassie.