[ Of course, Blake complies. There isn't a fibre in his being that would allow him not to; every inch of him is trained to do exactly as Morgan directs. His jaws slacken as he back pedals away from the suspect and the man on the floor groans at the release of pressure, visibly relieved now that the clamping pain had been finally ordered away.
With the smell of the curse still up in his nose - distant now, watered down by the rain - Blake's first instinct is to immediately turn to Morgan. He winds his way around the suspect's prone body and briefly noses at the side of the other man's face as Morgan kneels in the rain. There's a brief snuffling inhale against Morgan's ear - rain, sweat, cologne and shampoo, but no thick stench of blood or acrid tang of curse magic. Morgan was fine and, apparently satisfied, Blake turns his attention back on warily watching the suspect.
Except then - then there's another brief scent in the air. Blake's attention is caught and his head whips around, nose flared and ears perked. The bag - the bag had been discarded out there, somewhere. Blake springs away again and bounds off with his nose to the floor - heedless of the puddles that littered the pavement - and issues a brief, sharp bark when he finally locates it. He won't pick it up (he remembers not to do that much, what with knives and needles and all manner of spellcraft instruments that could be contained within it) but watches Morgan and the suspect intently until they join him. ]
no subject
With the smell of the curse still up in his nose - distant now, watered down by the rain - Blake's first instinct is to immediately turn to Morgan. He winds his way around the suspect's prone body and briefly noses at the side of the other man's face as Morgan kneels in the rain. There's a brief snuffling inhale against Morgan's ear - rain, sweat, cologne and shampoo, but no thick stench of blood or acrid tang of curse magic. Morgan was fine and, apparently satisfied, Blake turns his attention back on warily watching the suspect.
Except then - then there's another brief scent in the air. Blake's attention is caught and his head whips around, nose flared and ears perked. The bag - the bag had been discarded out there, somewhere. Blake springs away again and bounds off with his nose to the floor - heedless of the puddles that littered the pavement - and issues a brief, sharp bark when he finally locates it. He won't pick it up (he remembers not to do that much, what with knives and needles and all manner of spellcraft instruments that could be contained within it) but watches Morgan and the suspect intently until they join him. ]