*Is totally gonna make a timeline to keep this all in order.* |D Hope the little bit of power playing is alright- I figured the two would be playing a little before Alaine heard them. |D
WC: 470
Caillen and Sylvie were supposed to be sleeping, oh yes, they were... but such a thing as sleep was unneeded as far as the two pups were concerned. The will to play overpowered everything, at least, except a will to eat. Sylvie had dove underneath Caillen's 'bed' as these strange four-legged structures were apparently called, just before the sleepy male had woken up, and successfully scared the whelp into falling off his bed. (Thus, the thump Miss Alaine had heard downstairs.) Sylvie gasped and wiggled out of her hiding place after Caillen's fall, planting herself next to the turtle-stuck boy.
"Oh! Caillen! Je suis vraiment désolé! So very sorry! Are you okay? Êtes-vous blesser?"
She looked over the lanky youth in worry, only to be pushed over by a forepaw. Violet eyes blinked in shock as Caillen began laughing. Of course, he had a very lovely giggle, and the little lady couldn't stop herself from laughing with him, though paws quickly pressed against grinning mouths to stifle the joyous sounds. It had been only a few days since Sylvie had been found by Caillen's mother, but the young lady was already far healthier than she had ever been prior. Caillen too, it seemed, was doing much better now than he had before as well- when Sylvie had arrived, both were generally bedridden, ill, tired, constantly under the care of Miss Alaine... and now, they couldn't stop playing about!
But then, Miss Alaine's melodic voice carried up the stairs, hinting at a moment of unhappiness. Sylvie froze, both paws clamped over her tightly clamped jaw, though the smile only grew larger. They were caught, it seemed... but that did little to lessen the fun. Miss Alaine was never very cross, so she certainly couldn't be too angry at the pair... right...? The subject of her sort-of guardian's scorn had changed to something more preferred by the young pup- food. So. She was right. Giggling, the bouncing ball of lilac and peach fluff rolled onto her stomach and scuttled for the stairs down, sliding in the hallway upon fuzzy white puppy paws.
"Coming Miss Alaine!"
The 4 month old called down the stairs, wiggling her rump as she pounced tentatively from one stair to the next. Pausing on the fourth of seven steps, she looked back up the stair case for her comrade. Her partner in crime had to be coming, right?
"Caillen! Dépêchez-vous! You silly goose!"
Sylvie laughed, mixing her languages a little. She spoke near fluent French, and often went about speaking in 'Franglish' if you will, when happy or worried. Usually, in the interest of every non-French speaker, she refrained from this however- made conversation much easier to grasp. Hopefully, even though she had only been here a few days, Caillen would know what she meant by that phrase.
Speak. Think. Walk.