[AW] A Carrot with Four Sides is Called a Square Root

The air was getting warmer, the days were getting longer, the snow had melted away, winter had finally lost it's grip on the lands which allowed spring to take hold. Birds returning from the south and plants budding out were the signs that told the old man that it was time to plant his small collection of seeds. There were only carrot seeds, and as food for himself, he did not need to grow carrots, but the horses loved them and he could practically get them to move the world with them. Well, maybe not move the world, but they did tend to be more willing to let him work on their hooves and take care of other health issues with a lot less fuss.

Ibycus went out to his little garden area and carefully pulled up the circular wattle fence that he had made a couple of years ago and set it to one side. Once he was done, he would put it back to keep the rabbits out. Down on hands and knees he dug out the weeds with a small rake that he made from a curved and split branch. He also used the rake to smooth out and level the dirt in preparation for the seeds that were in the pouch that was set to one side.

Given that he had spent most of his life living alone had set him up so that he would unknowingly look a sight on the possibility that someone might happen by and see the old wolf dog on his hands and knees while he dug in the dirt and pulled out the weeds and talked to the worms as he complained to them about how cold the winters have gotten through the years and the aches and pains of old age.


Пролеће долази, Dinar muttered to her that morning. She found him outside, relaxing on the cool grass and feeling the Sun on his coat. She thought it was a sign of his mood heightening, but her jokes failed to start a badinage with the older dog, who appeared far too tired for friendly antics. 

">Let's walk,<" he offered and Cent followed, although she felt.... weird. She couldn't shake off the feeling that this wasn't another one of his usual grouchy moods. She had no idea where that feeling came from. What was there for Dinar to be grouchy about? He was resting well, had a warm room and warm meals to eat every day. She did her best to provide for him, as repayment for all he did to keep her safe in their travels. Surely, she was just being paranoid.

They walked longer and farther than Cent expected, wandering trough the shadowed woods and stopping by the lake to lap at the clear waters. The whole thing had a somniferous effect on Cent, who awoke at sunup not because she was rested, but because her terrible homesickness followed her to her dreams, making her wake wet-eyed out of a nightmare. Again, she dreamt of the execution. Or, well, the day of the execution - and the guilt she felt for not being present to see her mother's head be severed from her neck. Cent yawned.

She tried to forget, and the walk prolonged, and they began to wander past places owned by Gang members. Cent inhaled the fresh smells of incoming spring. She thought she heard a voice talking and headed in its general direction, she on two-legs and dressed warmly, her large companion on all fours right by her.

Dinar spoke none during their walk, and now his voice startled her.

">Cenče, we need to talk.<" he said simply, almost muttering. For a moment she thought he was talking to someone else, but that couldn't be possible. Cent was the only dog Dinar conversed with in months.

">Yes, what is it?<" she asked, albeit with a bit of disinterest, as they began to walk around someone's property and her attention was caught by movements in what looked to be the garden. They stopped close to it. There was a heavy sigh, accompanied by a cough and the older dog began; 

">Cenče, I don't feel nor healthy nor good, for many-<"

"Good day there!"

Cent heard half of half of what her companion said, having been busy observing the old dog in the garden, talking to someone or something in the dirt. The young dog cocked her head to one side.

"Who are you talking to in the dirty, grandpa?"

Dinar looked at her with betrayal in his eyes, but said nothing. He simply sat by her, joining her in observing the other old dog digging in the garden. He couldn't even gather the strength to be wary of him. He just felt... weary. It felt like the mass of his body was getting harder to and harder to carry.

'Grandpa'. That was a word that he never thought he would hear someone use in relation to him. Having spent pretty much all of his life alone without family, there were no descendants to call him dad or eventually grandpa. Maybe that was why he generally stayed away from the bustling center of DCG, seeing everyone else with their children reminded him of the emptiness of his life. Reminders of the hole in his soul that would have been filled with love of a wife and children if he had not built the belief that there was something fundamentally wrong with him and subsequently discontinued the search for a mate early in his life.

Having been kneeling to pull weeds and plant seeds, Ibycus rocked back to sit on his heels and looked up at his surprise visitors. He pondered a moment as he did not recognize them and wondered if they were new members or visitors. Hello, his Italian accent returned the greeting. He glanced back down to the dirt in front of him, I was just talking to the worms, he answered the query and looked back up at the visitors, What brings you to my little corner of the world?



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