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Richard Moreau didn't have a favorite season, nor did he really hate a single season. No, he favored them all equally for various reasons. Summer and springtime meant loose fitting clothes to fight off the heat, while the fall and winter seasons meant layers upon layers of clothing, which offered Richard an excellent challenge, as well as an excuse to take someone home with him, besides Baldwin, of course. His home wasn't that far away from the dog park and he was certain that he could woo any man or woman with an offering of hot cocoa, all he needed to do was work his charm. Something that Richard felt he needed no instructions with.

First of all, most women loved dogs. Cats worked well enough, but not many people walked their cats (and held any sort of dignity for themselves or their feline companion). And he had step one covered. Well, MORE than covered, as Baldwin was blessed with a size that made him twice, maybe even three times the size of regular dogs, which, to Richard, meant three times the chance of either wooing another over to him, or, if he were unfortunately, scaring them away.

The dog park was awfully lonely by the time he made it there, but he didn't mind. For now, it was just himself and an Irish Wolfhound, flopping at his feet and resting its great snout over his feet, offering his owner some bit of warmth as Richard skimmed over a week old newspaper. Baldwin gave a whimper, and Richard knew he moment he lifted his head as the winter chill nipped at his toes through the protective leather and shoes. Either Baldwin was ready to go home, or someone else had finally arrived, and Richard's crimson eyes lit up at the sight of the stout Bulldog that trudged forward, though more so he eyed his owner.

'Young, dresses modestly, which means she either has good morals or has a lot to hide... eighteen, perhaps? I'll have to tread the waters carefully on this one.'

Or tread through the snow, rather, as Baldwin didn't need another queue from his owner. The large dog rose to its longer, slender legs and trotted towards Minotaur, tail wagging tongue already flopping out of its mouth with glee. 'Good dog.'

Yes, everything seemed to be going exactly as planned for Richard, and he could only thank himself for training Baldwin so well, as well as his own judgement and the time he had spent perfecting this act. The sight of the young woman opening up to Baldwin made a curled smile appear on Richard's face, and calmly, slowly, he folded up the newspaper and rose from the bench, taking his time to make sure he was completely presentable before approaching her.

'Jacket and all zippers zipped? Check. Dusted off all specks of snow and dirt? Check. Hair? Check.' Richard's checklist was thorough but quick, and a simple comb over with his gloveless hand ensured that he was at his best when he approached her. By this time, Baldwin had not only given her hand a sniff over but a lick, turning away when he saw his master approaching and instinctively moving away from the young woman, so that he could do proper introductions to the smaller bulldog. He had done his part- now it was up to Richard.

"It's nice to see I'm not the only one that's willing to endure this weather for the sake of my dog's health," Richard said, giving his own dog a pat on the head as his reward for reeling her in. He looked down at the young woman before him, rather liking what he saw and leaving it to his imagination as to what she might have looked underneath. He kept his smile calm and polite, even as he looked at her now wet hand and offered her a handkerchief. "Though, careful about Baldwin's licks. It's like a tsunami, one wave of wetness and affection after another."

There was some genuine concern for her health, of course. Getting the poor woman sick would have been counterproductive, and as much as he loved his dog, he didn't want to end up kissing that hand later. It'd be like kissing Baldwin, and he had just about enough of that every morning.

In truth, Richard was only half paying attention to what the young woman was saying, as the rest of his attention was on her appearance. Now that he had gotten close enough to observe her, he could appreciate everything she had to offer. Small, but delicate, or at least he assumed as her coat hid most of her body, though Richard enjoyed a good challenge. He suspected that she was fair sized in the bosom; nothing particularly wrong with that as it meant that she was proportionate and breasts weren't usually his favorite feature when it came to a woman. No, the best features were elsewhere and he was looking at one of them right now, adoring her maroon colored eyes the most, as well as that mole, making her stand out in his mind (an amazing feat, given how many 'partners' he already memorized). If she had blonde hair, he'd have given her the nickname of 'My Marilyn Monroe'...

Not that he had anything against her short, wavy black hair, of course, as it was beautiful in its own right. Though, he wondered if he could ever convince her to give dying her hair a chance... a task on his ever growing 'to do' list for later.

When she switched the topic to his own dog, he glanced back at his canine companion, who seemed to be growing dizzy watching the other dog trying to run circles around him and wore a grin. In truth, he did care about his dog- it was his best friend, after all, but he was simply more interested in other things at the moment. Baldwin had done his job- now it was time for him to do his. "You are correct. Pure bred, best pedigree imaginable for his breed, so claim his papers. Why I remember when he was only the size of my hand, if you can believe that."

He held out his hand as a measure of reference, the glazed look in his eyes could easily be played off as him trying to reimagine the tiny little puppy he brought home that night, but in truth, was simply sizing up something else, something that made his grin deepen. "Baldwin and I go way back, though he can be quite a handful sometimes."

Finally, Baldwin seemed to understand what Minotaur was going for, and the great and large Irish Wolfhound had two options. Either squat lowered, which he could only hold the position for a little while before he became uncomfortable, or he could sit. So, he shifted over to the left, and proceeded to sit down, right on top of the smaller dog. Surely that would be enough to keep the poor thing warm!

Oh yes, there was definitely more to this young woman than she was allowing to be seen, and Richard highly suspected that she was a bit more curvy than the average woman. Women nowadays always worried about their weight and figure, which would lead to some rather slender bedmates, all bone and little volume. Sure, they looked good in a dress, but Richard preferred a little meat, a little substance, and it would seem that she was hiding a lot of it under that thick coat.

'C... a D would be much too generous,' Richard thought to himself with a smile, before finally putting his hand away and holding them behind his back, satisfied with his initial evaluation for now. In the end, it didn't matter what size she was- alright, so perhaps a little, but there were always occasions where he was willing to make exceptions. They already seemed to have something important in common, that being their love and care for their canine companions, which already said enough about her personality that Richard rather liked. "Oh, he's quite a handful- several, in fact. He eats like a horse, the strength of an ox when it comes to walks, and yet he is as gentle as a lamb."

And apparently, was now perching like a pigeon on top of the smaller dog, though Richard paid little attention to the display for now. He didn't see anything too embarrassing and Baldwin was certainly not trying to hump the dog (though it would not have been the first time Baldwin managed to woo a lady dog before he had the chance to get his moves in on said lady dog's owner, and after that, any thought of taking her home was just ruined). He gave a breathless laugh, before turning back to the young woman. "Ah, I knew there was a use for his big size and coat, as your Minotaur has figured out. Good dog! Though he raises a good point- it is rather cold, even as bundled up as we are."

He could easily offer her to come to his condo- it wasn't that far off and it would certainly be warm. But, he waited. There was no need to rush, and she still had to pass the last stretch of tests before he'd honor her with an invitation. "It's funny- you now know my dog's name but not my own! I'll correct that. I'm Richard Moreau," he said, extending a hand in greeting (and nothing more, for now). "And might I know Minotaur's caretaker's name?"

There were times where Richard felt that he could read a woman like a book, though sometimes those books always seemed to be resembling that of a Harlequin romance novel, but in this occasion, he could see genuine concern and even a tad bit of fear. Or perhaps she was just nervous- that seemed just as likely, and completely understandable. If she was as soft and modest as he thought her to be, then it was likely that he was the first to genuinely flirt with her (though a pity, given her beauty and manners, something that Richard felt was underrated when it came to seeking out a mate. Their loss.)

He could not fault her for her nervousness (and in a way, it was adorable), but it did get him to questioning his method. Was he coming on too strong, or perhaps there was another reason, one that he would have to word carefully when addressing this possible dilemma, but for now, he put it at the back of his mind. For now, he simple reveled in obtaining her first name, and he rather liked it. "Penelope, wife of Odysseus, correct? The one that fooled many suitors by unraveling her tapestry, or was it a shroud... either way, a beautiful name. A pity few people think to use it nowadays..."

He was no master when it came to Greek mythology, but he at least knew the Odyssey enough to feel as if he's hit something in that ballpark, and most women enjoyed a man who appeared to have some interest in literature. He even forced himself to read the 'Twilight Saga', if only to woo another into his bed- part of him was praying that this wouldn't be the case for Penelope.

Meanwhile, Baldwin was happy and content on top of the other dog he perched on, and the fact that the bulldog seemed to drift to sleep hardly bothered him. No, instead he looked to his master and the young lady he was talking to, stretching out its long, slender neck and trying to nose her hand again from this angle, all without moving from his spot. She had seemed like such a nice lady and she called his name... but why was his master talking to someone so young?

Baldwin's pleasure was about as clear to see as Richard's sudden dismay. Whereas the Irish wolfhound was ecstatic to be receiving such warming love and affection (even if the poor dog didn't understand a word she was saying, though the positive tone of her voice and the scratches to his head and muzzle were more then enough indication that it was something good), Richard could feel something come crashing down within him. And that something was the sound of metal bars of a cell, closing, with him locked inside of committing a crime that he would have normally avoided.

She had said 'class', which meant to Richard that this young lady was still in school. He didn't immediately panic and only the keenest of eyes could have seen the momentary terror that took his gaze, before it softened up and he did his best to recover. He was a gambler, after all, and part of the game was to wear a good poker face, and that was something that came naturally for Richard (or at least he felt that way).

"Oh, a scholar, are we? I graduated college a few years ago, for business and some philosophy. Though my favorite class was biology, as well as the practice," Richard said smoothly, holding back his yelps when he could feel Baldwin's whip-like tail beginning to slap against the back of his leg. Perhaps there was a way to recover this situation? "Can't lie- college was the best four years of my life. What university are you attending, Penelope?"

And just like that, the mood was shot. It was as though something, or someone, rather, had just grabbed a giant stamp and slammed down on a file, labeling it with big, bright red letters that read "STATUTORY: DO NOT TOUCH!" It took everything, everything within Richard's power to stop himself from giving a yelp and leaping back, as though he had just set off a powder keg and found himself too close to the blast, but if one looked closely into his crimson eyes, they could almost see is inner self screaming with frustration.

She was in highschool. Which meant that she was underage, and therefor, unobtainable! He could practically see the yellow tape wrapping around her as he considered his next words- pursuing this minor was simply not worth the legal issues that would hound him for the rest of his life.

The voice inside him was screaming Disengage! Abort! Abort!, and disengage was precisely what he did. Still, he had to put on an act, and he was rather proud of himself for portraying none of that anger and frustration he felt within him, as he addressed her. "Well, pardon me for saying this without hardly knowing you, but I have a feeling you'll do just fine. Just keep at those books and try not to go a little crazy, though you don't appear to be the type to fall onto such terrible habits."

Then a thought hit him, and his forced disinterest had dissipated, as she was rummaging her purse for something. She had said year- perhaps she was rather close to being of legal age after all? There was one way to find out. "Turning eighteen is a pretty big deal, at least it was for me. Why I was already graduated from high school and making my way to college at that age... you must be fairly close to breaking from your shackles, right?"

It was one way of asking 'when will you be eighteen', though Richard could have thought of many other ways without once being blunt. He was musing some of these when he spotted what she was pulling out, and once again, his inner voice was screeching. What had she done!?

Baldwin's nose caught whiff of the bacon before she even had the chance to say the word, but the moment she uttered that glorious two syllable word, the Irish Wolfhound's ears perked up and he practically shot off Minotaur and glided towards her. Richard immediately grabbed his dog, gripping his fingers around his collar and saving Penelope from a pounce, and it took much effort for him to keep Baldwin back, his excited whimpers making it very, very clear that he wanted the bacon. This freed Minotaur from his warm tomb, and successfully prevented Richard from getting any closer to Penelope.

'Clever girl.'