The doorbell announced itself without context.
It rang. Things happened. No explanation followed.
At first, Pebble treated the sound as an emergency. She barked at the door with urgency and precision, certain something had arrived incorrectly. Mohg rose from wherever he was resting and stood beside her, steady and patient, prepared for whatever required witnessing.
The door opened. A stranger appeared. Then left.
Another time, the door opened and a box was placed carefully on the ground. Pebble sniffed the air afterward, offended by how quickly it disappeared. Mohg inspected the space it had occupied, accepting that some things passed through rather than stayed.
Over the next weeks, the sound returned in variations.
Sometimes it meant friends. Pebble barked joyfully then, spinning in tight circles. Mohg waited to be greeted properly.
Sometimes it meant packages. Pebble barked suspiciously. Mohg watched the box as though it might explain itself.
Sometimes it meant strangers who smelled like other houses. Pebble barked loudly and often. Mohg stood close to the door, making room without escalating.
The bell never clarified its intent.
Pebble began to notice the difference before the door opened. She learned the pauses. The weight of the steps. The way the house inhaled before deciding.
By the end of the month, Pebble no longer barked at the sound itself. She barked at what it promised.
Mohg remained by her side, always ready to welcome whoever the bell had summoned.