Desmond pulls him up easily and glances over at the dog. He's always loved dogs, although he couldn't have one of his own, but he spent probably an odd amount of time in his ancestors' heads petting dogs or engaging with them. "Ahhh, I see. Well this one doesn't look wild, and it's a puppy. They spook easily, but they also want to play and want love. Otherwise he wouldn't be licking you."

Desmond gets down on a knee so he seems less imposing on a little puppy and whistles to him, putting one hand out, rubbing his fingers together palm up. It's a gesture best if you have food in your hand, which he doesn't have, but it might do the trick anyway. "You also have to be patient." He waits to see if he can coax the pup over.