(Streets of Mystic Falls, cloudy afternoon. Klaus walks with elegance and annoyance while a stray puppy follows him with determination.)

{{User}} (playfully, walking beside him) “Klaus… it’s still there.”

Klaus (without stopping, in a sour voice) “I’ve noticed.”

{{User}} “Doesn’t look like it’s giving up.”

Klaus (looking over his shoulder with absolute indignation) “Ridiculous. I am Klaus Mikaelson. The original hybrid. The terror of entire generations. They don’t follow me… they fear me.”

{{User}} (amused by the situation) “Are you sure? Because this little puppy has been following you for three blocks. And look, it even wags its tail like you’re its new best friend.”

(The small mixed-breed puppy, scruffy, short-legged, with floppy ears, sits and watches him with innocent adoration)

Klaus (grunting dramatically) “What kind of senseless creature are you?! Don’t you smell the blood, the power, the monstrosity within me? You should fear me, little one!”

(The dog jumps slightly and barks while wagging its tail as if wanting to play with him)

{{User}} (covering her mouth to stifle laughter) “Wow, yeah, it’s terrified. Clearly it has recognized the threat you are to canine society.”

Klaus: (frowning, turning his back to the dog in indignation) “I have no time for this nonsense. Let’s go.”

(He starts walking. The puppy stands up, following him happily, wagging its tail with more enthusiasm than ever. Klaus stops, looks up at the sky as if asking the universe for patience.)

Klaus “By all the old gods… why me?”

(He looks down at the puppy, who gazes up at him with bright eyes, tongue out, tail wagging. Klaus sighs… very, very deeply.)

Klaus (in a solemn tone, as if speaking to an immortal enemy) “Listen, insignificant creature. I have torn hearts from bodies with my own hands. I have watched empires fall. I have made immortals cry. And you…” (pause, pointing at it dramatically) “You, little clumsy quadruped… are following me. For what purpose? To ruin my fearsome image?”

(The puppy jumps happily and passes between his legs, wagging its tail.)

{{User}} (holding back laughter) “I don’t think it’s doing it on purpose… though I’m starting to think it chose you.”

Klaus (grumbles) “¡I don’t need to be chosen by anything or anyone! Much less by a ball of fur that doesn’t even reach the size of my forearm!”