Dean stared down with restrained disappointment.

He wasn't expecting much with a name like Mewling Canine, but this was just ridiculous. Sure, it was amazing that he was able to summon the creature in the first place, but he was hoping for something with a little more... oomph.

The small, black long-haired sheepdog puppy cowered behind his legs whimpering and gazing up at Dean with sad puppy eyes for support. Every time a carriage wheel from the street up the alley hit a pothole it'd jump up in fright before huddling even closer to his legs.

"Well, I can't be too picky." Dean gave it a quick once over and tried giving it a command.

"Rollover." It took a few steps away and obediently rolled over. Immediately after, it tried to huddle up to Dean's legs again, but before it could do so he issued another command.

"Do a backflip." Once again, it immediately took action and attempted to do a backflip. Despite its best efforts, it only managed a haphazard backward flop on its back before scrambling back to its feet.

"Fly into the sky." Finally, Dean tried giving what he thought was an impossible command.

This time it only gave Dean a sidelong glance before waddling over to cower behind his legs again.

'So I can give commands, but its ability to adhere to these commands is limited by what's physically possible for it to do.'

Dean reached down and ran his hands through its shiny black fur. The fur felt real and he could even feel the lines of muscles along its flanks. It even tried to lick Dean's hands when he scratched it under the chin.

It reaIly did seem like a real dog.

Dean lightly nudged it away from his legs and began to walk towards the street up the alley. It tried to huddle alongside Dean's legs as he walked, but after a few rounds of being roughly jostled by his footsteps, it picked up the hint and settled for walking very close to him.

As the duo walked toward the street, Dean hoped that whatever allowed him to understand the two men from earlier was still in effect. He'd spent three years learning Spanish in high school with questionable results and if he had to learn another language in this new world he didn't know what he'd do.

Finally, they exited the alley and walked into a crowded marketplace filled with people of various ethnicities dressed in clothes that would be right at home in a Renaissance fair. He even saw a few men and women with bows, swords, and other melee weapons strapped to their bodies.

Different kinds of stalls lined the sides of the street and a steady stream of pedestrians, wagons, and carriages flowed through. Some people perused the merchandise, others chatted with friends, while others moved on to some other destination.

"Excuse me, can you help me-" Dean tried to ask for help from a passerby on the street, but he simply brushed right past him. Not losing his spirit he turned around and tried to ask for help from a rotund woman dressed in a roughly sewn beige dress.

"Ma'am if I can just have a moment-" Before he could ask her for help she cradled the small child that was to her left closer, walked a little faster, and walked away from him all while poignantly avoiding eye contact.

"Give it up. You won't get any help from them in the condition you are in. I can smell the piss on you a mile away."

Nestled in a small crook between a vegetable stall and another stall lined with odd trinkets was a man seated on the ground dressed in rags that barely clung to his emaciated frame.

A beggar.

"The people in this kingdom are odd that way. Seeing what they want and ignoring things that are too much for them to bear." He motioned for Dean to come closer.

"You'd best get out of the way young'un. This kingdom is gripped by a culture of hypocrisy. People seek help from those more fortunate than them but when it's time to pay the kind gesture forward they become oddly inept." He gestured toward the chipped clay bowl by the side of his foot revealing a few bronze coins- copper if Dean's guess was correct.

"Of course, there exist exceptions in all things.

Many inexperienced beggars in this kingdom make the same mistake you just did. They think by abandoning their pride and directly displaying themselves to the masses they'll make more coin that way.

Hehe, in a perfect world that would make sense. More people seeing you should equal more donations but that's not the way things work here.

Those who will give to the needy will do so and those who won't don't care where you are. If anything, they'll get angry and then violent that you're right there for them to see"

His face crumpled in consternation then. "It's not an uncommon sight to see the street cleaners quietly removing the remains of some poor bastard that died because they unknowingly caught some noble or adventurer in a bad mood. They died without even knowing what they did wrong.

Staying in a little crook, out of the way, like this is the smart choice. You're easy to overlook by those who wish to do so.

You'd do well to remember that boy. You should think the gods that you aren't already dead in an alley somewhere."

The back of Dean's neck went numb when he realized how close to death he was. He'd foolishly used the sentiments of his previous world to help him out of his situation without considering the differences in culture and worldview.

As crazy as it seems, apparently peoples' lives were treated like grass that could be plucked by anyone brazen enough.

"Don't look too afraid boy. You're alive now and that's all that matters. Don't worry about what could have been and just enjoy the moment." His joints creaked and popped as he rose from his seated position while adeptly hiding away the three coins amidst his torn shirt.

"It's almost sundown and the king's army will soon pass through here returning from their daily patrols of the forest edge. They won't go out of their way to hunt down beggars like us but if we're right there in their faces they'll make short work of us. We'd best move on before then."