the zoo of the new

POSTED: Thu Apr 26, 2018 7:02 pm

No stranger to puppies, Posey nevertheless hadn’t seen any like the little orange spitzy creatures who clambered around her now. They were very small, very cute – big eyes, poofy fur, foxy faces – and certainly trouble, though not the sort Posey couldn’t handle. In fact, it made her feel more lively, keeping tabs on them. She gladly volunteered again and again for the duty of pupsitting, both out of pleasure and pity for the haggard father.

Linden’s story was one shrouded in mysterious and disturbing circumstance, but Posey did not ask questions. Well, she supposed she had – direct and brash ones, where was the pups’ mother, were they meant to be that small, did he need help? But she hadn’t pried. It wasn’t important. The pups were; they needed mothered, and Linden needed respite. It was no trouble at all, Posey insisted.

Sharp teeth clamped down on her ankle. She yelped.

“Bennett!” The old wolf surged toward the growling pup and growled back, showing yellow ground-down teeth. He wriggled defiantly, but she whapped him lightly on the head with a paw. “Bite softly!”

He made the appropriate concessions, maybe to get them over with, and leaped onto her ribs to tackle his brother, distracted by a flying beetle. They fell in a heap of red and grey fur, and Posey languidly got to her feet, shaking herself (and sending several white hairs flying everywhere). As she looked ahead, she flipped her tail up and wagged it, wuffing to get the boys’ attention.

“Your father’s back, yessiree! ‘hoy, Linden!”
Mistfell Vale
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POSTED: Fri Apr 27, 2018 5:14 pm

It had been a good day.

His shoulder wasn't hurting, and the sky was clear. Two days of this had hardened the ground. Gunther was more than eager for a ride, though Linden lacked a saddle and could not ride as fast as he might have liked. Their slower pace was fine, he supposed. The horse didn't seem to mind, and took every opportunity Linden became distracted as grounds to begin feasting on fresh spring grass. He didn't mind this. He had been unfocused and thinking himself becoming too needy, like the expectations he had for the home he desired were somehow unreasonable.

Today, though, he had found the house.

Having satisfied this, he had made certain his intentions were obviously marked and continued on his ride. The old woman who cared for his sons could stand to wait a bit longer, he supposed, and took a roundabout route back to collect his children.

He turned Gunther into the fenced-in area that served as a makeshift pen and made his way over to where the puppies – having made truce long enough to charge towards him – were waiting. He squatted to intercept them, and scooped the pair up in his arms. Their happy squirms soon became less pleased, and both began nipping at his long hair until he let them down. They returned to their game upon satisfying he did not have food.

Hello Posey, Linden said, cleaning slobber from his face. He remained at this lower position to better speak with the old woman (and also to keep his eyes on the boys, as they were presently). I hope they didn't cause too much trouble for you today.

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POSTED: Tue May 01, 2018 11:00 am

The father strode forward and crouched to collect the boys, embracing them until they wormed their way back down to earth to play. A melancholy smile slipped over Posey’s face, and her eyes softened as she came forward to greet him, quickly shaking her head at his remark.

“No more than usual, huhu,” she joked, and twitched her head around when one of the pups squealed – a short-lived noise that settled again into normal yaps. Relaxing, she looked the archer over with another smile. “Does me good t’ see a father as loving as you. Won’t take it for granted, yer a rare sort.”

She thought about three pups in the north, a stern white face that offered teeth and meat and nothing else, and shifted her paws. Devotion and affection did not always go hand-in-hand.

“What about you, manage t’ get some work done without the fluffs underfoot?” She broke out into a grin, recalling an earlier epiphany. “Oh Linden, you know, they remind me of dandelions. I want to blow on them and make a wish. I’ve never seen anything like them.”
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POSTED: Thu May 17, 2018 6:07 pm

He smiled at her words, but there was more to the expression than mirth – his eyes were thoughtful and small tightness appeared around his jaw. They might have had a full family before, and known their grandparents properly – but how could they now, when they had come into the world marked by who their mother had been?

It was cruel and it was unfair, but small mercies had allowed them to live. Small mercies had kept them alive this long.

They get that from their mother, he said, turning to watch them run and roll in the dirt. She had a lot of dog in her. The daughter of two noble houses, Mistral had much more in her than spitfire and ill-played intentions. He was glad to see her color and traces of her blossoming in the twins.

I've found the place, Linden went on, fresh excitement finding its way into his voice. Nearer the end of the town, and big enough for all of us – with some work I think it will be just fine.

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POSTED: Mon May 28, 2018 10:03 pm

Posey smiled and watched them play too, her expression affectionate but shrewd. Oh yes, I can see it. Once more she did not pry. She had demanded all relevant answers up front, and learning that the woman was dead had been enough for her to shut her trap. She only wondered what Linden saw when he looked at them, and was reassured by his tenderness that it was nothing ill. She mused once that it was good Ira's daughters took more after her in looks.

Linden went on about the place he hoped to fix, and Posey chuckled. Good, good. Suppose y' can't be too picky for yer kids. He had taken an awful long time to find a suitable place, but Posey was the sort to find a nice den near a water source and stick to it. They were very different people, but she quite liked the serious father and had taken to his plight immediately.

You got yer horses in a row too? She grinned wickedly. And yer cat?

I'm sorry this sucks. :V

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POSTED: Sat Jun 16, 2018 9:14 am

He saw too much of Mistral in the boys, truthfully – lucky as they had been to take his color, they were not wolves. Linden was not ignorant to hereditary in this matter, for he and his father might have been brothers, but the worry of other things being passed down concerned him. Their blue-blood was tainted by what Mimi had done.

Even now he believed that Kalypso's mercy had been that of death by exile, and their luck in surviving was no doubt tied to some karmic pendulum he did not understand.

Linden smiled faintly at her commentary. His collection of companions was certainly a curious one, he supposed, but he had bonded with them fiercely (except Matilda, who rejected his attempts).

Walter is his own cat, he reminded the old woman gently. I think he'll like the place, though – for the horses I have more work to do. The mare was tremendously fat now, and Linden had realized why. He wanted to prepare for this as quickly as he could, though had no concept of when she would drop her foal.

How is your daughter? Linden asked.

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POSTED: Mon Jul 09, 2018 11:49 am

OOC: Padded this out to meet word count bc I SUUUUCK

IC:

“Cats ain’t picky,” Posey replied sagely, as if she knew a damn thing about cats. She didn’t, not really: they were fun to chase, if less fun to hunt (their claws stung), and “civilized” folk tended to keep them around. Of all the cats she’d met, though, none of them seemed to give a damn about anything. She’d even seen them pretend like nothing was amiss when they’d taken tumbles off rooftops and trees.

She knew less about horses than she did cats, but when Linden brought up her daughter, well, that was a subject she could talk about all day.

“Oh! She’s good,” the old mother said warmly, wagging her tail. “Spends most o’ her time huntin’ or patrollin’, really, now that she don’t feel she gotta stick by me all the time. The pack takes care o’ me, she says, so she takes care o’ the pack. But she’s terribly serious. I worry she won’t make friends like she oughta.”

She lifted her golden-brown eyes to Linden, blinking slowly at him.

“Why, she’s kinda like you, I reckon,” she said. “Except,” she added, and dropped her voice to a theatrical whisper, “well, we’re friends, ain’t we.”

She snickered, then lifted her head again to watch the puppies, content but ever-mindful of their yaps and tumbles. Her ears flicked from time to time, but no yip squeaked higher than their pain threshold, and when they fell they got back up. That was what puppies did – no cause for alarm when you knew the signs.

“Well if you’ve come to collect them, I wanna say my goodbyes,” Posey said suddenly, knowing that she wouldn’t do Linden any favors by rambling on like an old madwoman. She heaved herself up onto all fours and approached the youngsters, howling out to them playfully: “Beeeennett, Floooooo-oooorian!” and once she’d summoned their attention crouched to their level. She presented her muzzle, hopeful for at least a goodbye sniff, expecting little else from the distracted boys. Another babysitter might have demanded more good show and manners than that, but it wasn’t her style nor her place.

She loved them no matter what, after all, the way she loved all her charges.
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