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table © Jenny
OOC: Backdated. o: Sorry it took so long, Shawwwww~
Frosted fields of soft browns and mottled golds once gave way in stiff memorandum as a trio of creatures so searched the paddock, searching for any sign of a little lilac collie pup. Any inkling of her sweet cream maw, those vibrant violet gems, her flashing yellow bandanna... equine and canine alike pondered the waves of crinkling grasses ahead of them. If only they had been there but moments earlier- the now pleasantly grazing sheep had been herded into a perfect double line, trotting 'round the pasture in an orderly fashion with the then 4 month old pup working behind them. Dark, blazing gems were perfect for holding the intimidating glare a herding border collie was so revered for, while slim, yet young form was perfect for dashing from side to side without missing a single bleating ewe or lamb. Amazing, the sight had been- a pup herding so beautifully.
Ah, what a memory that had been. Now, the no longer child was curled up beneath those few particular lead sheep- the matriarchs', if you will- staying warm alongside their wooly coats as she caught her breath. For, though she was a herding dog, she was not violent- never did she harm any of her charges- she ran them simply off of dominance. The occasional nip of course was required, but never was it painful nor mean. Gentle reminders were all they were. And so, curled up in a sweet bundle of soft, downy fur, the pheasant dog rested, one white ear flicking occasionally against the chilly winds, while it's dark counterpart stayed nestled into the coat of one sheep.
Sylvie, now an adult, was curled up just as she had been then, relaxed among the group of fluffy beasts. The stables were not far away, well within the gaze of the yearling female, her lupus form low to the earth against the gently growing edge of the paddock's hill. Violet gems opened slowly as silence surrounded her, the quiet bleating of her camaraderie barely heard over the somewhat chilled winds dancing around her. Soon, those puffy, cloud-like bleating charges began to shift, slowly separating from the loose, but near perfect circle she had easily worked them into. Like a second nature, herding was, something the ever aging collie shea would never forget how to do. The wind blew over them again, and Sylvie stood from her comfort beside the large sheep. Shaking out her dilute chocolate fur, the white ruffed collie studied the sheep as they dispersed, and then where the circle was breaking. A ram was making his way into the circle, searching for his mate before he too dispersed, the female trailing after him.
She simply watched, wary violet gems betraying how old she felt in this nostalgic situation. At least the sheep remembered her, having so easily been herded into the same lines as her childhood warranted, and then into the same circle of warmth. She wondered absently if Heath or Ruri ever checked the paddocks after her leave, looking for her caramel pelt against the sea of white wool. She would have to visit them next, she decided, since Alaine and Caillen had disappeared on her instead of it being the usual reverse case. Again Sylvie settled back into place among the dots of alabaster, standing out against them. Maybe she could catch Heath here, save herself the trouble.
