The woes of a first timer

Silvano Sadira · 09-15-2012, 07:33 PM

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363

they're outside of the hotel, c:

They were a month old now, just a few days over even. They grew bigger each day and Silvano marveled at their growth. Had he and his sisters grown so much at the same age? He watched his two sons, his precious boys, play in the courtyard of the Hotel. There was no one else out that day, and it was oddly silent in the Hotel from what his canine ears could tell. There had been no outbursts of anger, of rage against him, and he thought that was a good sign. Slowly, but surely, he knew he could turn around the members and gain their belief in him. But he was so young, and a new father to boot. Emerald eyes carefully watched the two brothers play, though one seemed severely less inclined to participate than the other.

Lips in a line, the man watched Gene bite at Pascal, who pulled away and squirmed toward the root of the big tree in the yard. Gene, unperturbed by his brother shrinking away from the contact, rushed at the younger boy and tumbled right into him. Both rolled head over heels and sat shaking themselves free of debris - or rather Gene did. Pascal simply seemed to sit confused as he stared a line of ants trailing down the length of the protruding tree root. Silvano furrowed his brows. Something was not quite right about his youngest son, but everyone was quirky at a young age. He might grow out of it, figured the Constable, and he hoped he would.

"Gene," warned the calm Sadira, reclining against the exact same tree his boys played under. "Don't do it," he added, threatening to get up and grab the pup. The pup in question peered at his father, understanding the warning tone and the words themselves. He babbled back at his father in his yips, words still slightly beyond him. Soon though he would speak his first words and quickly pick up the language of his family. Pascal did not often yip around as Gene did, but he still did it now and then. Looking away, Silvano stared at the sky, sighing contentedly. What a life.

Jimson Morris · 09-15-2012, 10:09 PM

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Word count: 530 // :3

A loud crash resounded through the hotel, followed by a long string of colorful curses, disrupting the silence that had weighed heavily throughout the building. Jimson rolled heavily off of his now-demolished bed, adding another loud thump to the previous cacophony. "Damn fool cotton pickin' sonuvabitch," he muttered, standing and dusting himself off. He hadn't even sat down that hard! At least, he hadn't thought so. Apparently the bed had other opinions. He stared forlornly at the mess. What was once the wooden frame was now sticking up and out in all directions and the mattress, which hadn't been in the best shape to begin with, was now sporting a long rip down one side where a piece of the frame had gouged it open. He continued muttering to himself as he cleared the destroyed frame from around the mattress, piling it in the unused washroom. He really didn't need a frame, anyway, he supposed, and this gave him all the more reason to move in an extra mattress from one of the unused rooms, which he was sure his back would appreciate. Really, the problem would have been solved if he'd just bothered to shift every night before he went to bed. His lupine form weighed about half as much as his optime, and it was much easier to get comfortable that way. His bed frame probably would have never even broken. But if something happened and he needed to defend himself, it would take that much more time to shift before he could grab his staff and beat someone about the head.

The snowy canine brushed the dust off his hands after tossing the last piece of wood into the bathroom and closing the door. His stomach noisily reminded him that he hadn't eaten since early that morning, and he decided that he would find an extra mattress later -- he'd really only come back to his room to retrieve his knife from his bag before heading over to Lunenburg. He'd been spending a good deal of time at the harbor lately, refurbishing one of the trawlers with the idea that he would be much more successful taking it out and fishing than he was with hunting on land. Theoretically.

Grabbing the hunting knife and belt he'd come for, Jimson fastened it around his waist and headed downstairs, where he grabbed a handful of jerky (on which he promptly began gnawing) from the pantry before stepping out the front door. In the courtyard he spied the form of a male leaning against the large tree that dominated the space, keeping an eye on two very young puppies playing nearby. His flowing white tale wagged briefly; the dog could put the boat (which he had yet to name) off for a little while for puppies. He loved the little buggers, and Cour des Miracles didn't exactly have the booming puppy population to which he was accustomed, so he felt a little deprived. He approached the earthily mottled male, grinning at the antics of the pups, and stood respectfully a little ways from him, leaning on his staff. "Dun b'lieve we've met, sir. M'name's Jimson. Mind if I join ya?"

Table credit Raze.

Silvano Sadira · 09-18-2012, 06:20 PM

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387

they're outside of the hotel, c:

Silvano gazed up at the sight of the large man approaching and bristled momentarily. The hairs on his neck, raised, fell and he calmed. He was Constable here, and there was no threat here. The tall dog was clearly of the pack, even if Silvano had not seen him around yet. Entirely possible with his patrols and his own sons to be watching out for, the man was busy! Silvano eyed the stranger and noted the drawl. Gene looked up at the approach of the big man and ogled him. He was tall, probably taller than Silvano himself, who stood as one of the tallest in the pack. It was entirely possible others were taller, but god, how his joints must hurt if Silvano ached now and then as he did after a lot of work.

A wide sweep of the hands and the Constable bowed his head to the stranger, the newcomer. "Please, sit." There was kindness in his offer, the invitation was warm and curious, as he kept his emerald eyes on the dog. It was so uncommon to find someone so large and not even wolfish at all. It was just something about the stranger that did not feel like a wolf, nor like the smaller coyotes. Gene had focused all his energy on the tall man, both paws over the root of the tree they played under. His sea-green eyes were so intently fixed on the big dog, almost as though he was going to set fire to his head. Pascal laughed in his puppyish way and batted at the ants on the tree, bumbling around before turning back. His rear was in the air and his front low to the ground. A tongue was sticking out as he stared at the black dots crawling all over.

"I'm Silvano Sadira, and these are my two boys. Eugene and Pascal," he introduced them each with a hand gesture. Gene perked at the sound of his name, eyes shifting to his look-a-like father. Pascal's ear twitched and he sent a quick glance before returning to the more important thing there. "You are new to the pack. I assume Vigilante accepted you?" he said kindly, knowing that if he himself had not accepted Jimson, then it had to have been Vigilante.

Jimson Morris · 09-24-2012, 07:13 PM

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Word count: 423 // Sorry for the wait! ><

Jimson's hand tightened briefly on his staff as the other male bristled momentarily, and relaxed as soon as the other did. The big dog could not blame the stranger for the initial reaction -- Jimson was unknown to him, and he had pups to protect, after all. And he had probably startled him, too, coming up from out of nowhere like that. At least it was only a moment of wariness, though. It would be a less than auspicious start to his residency in Cour des Miracles to get into a fight with one of the members of the pack. Any doubt as to the other male's acceptance that the giant dog was not a threat was erased as he smiled warmly and invited Jimson to sit. "Thanks," the Pyrenees said as he lay down his staff and accepted the offer, seating himself, arms on his knees, so that the wolf was between himself and the pups. Jimson knew how protective parents could be, especially new parents, and did not want to come off as threatening in any way.

Jimson chuckled at the intent stare of leaner pup as the father introduced himself and the young ones. "Hey, there, young'n," he said with a big, genuine smile. He returned his attention to Silvano. "They're han'some boys, sir." He nodded at Silvano's last question. "Yeah, almos' three weeks ago," he replied. "Met young Mister Haskel, too." Jimson picked at the grass between his feet, pulling a few strands and twining them together as his brow furrowed. He had avoided addressing sensitive subjects with the pack members he had so far met, figuring that a good deal of current events were not quite his business yet -- not to mention that he had only recently really decided to stay. But he was a member of the pack, now, not a temporary guest, and felt that the matters concerned him. Besides, how could he help if he was not aware of what was going on? "Young Mister Haskel mighta implied that there'd been some... problems, here recently. Attacks? If y'dun think I'm bein' too for'ard, sir, by askin'. I been makin' rounds about th' borders, a li'l bit every day, at least, an' I ain't come up on nothin'... I jus' feel like I need t'be fully informed t'help as much as I can. An' I unnerstan' if it ain't my business, neither, but the ones who're attacked... are they okay? I mean, anythin' I can do t'help on that front, too, I'd be more'n willin'."

Table credit Raze.

Silvano Sadira · 09-27-2012, 07:58 PM

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432

they're outside of the hotel, c:

The dog's accent was thick and it made him slow to understand. Silvano was normally good with accents, but he had only been exposed to local European tones rather than continental North America. He kept the confusion off his face as best as he could and nodded slightly to give himself some time to understand properly. He did understand that Jimson praised his sons, and the man smiled genially. "Thank you, my mate and I are terribly proud, you see. Our first litter and everything. Here's hoping we do well." Silvano crossed two fingers, and lightly waved the hand with an unsure smile.

"Mister Haskel..? Oh! You mean Skoll," he said, suddenly realizing. "Oh, yes. He's quite a nice guy. Looking for his place in life, I think, but he's almost got it." At first he had thought it might have been Hati, but he had a different last name from his father and brother. Skoll and Charlotte had taken on their father's name and their brother the mother's name. Ayita. Silvano almost recoiled. She had just recently passed away and he was unsure how the siblings were all dealing with the loss of their mother. The loss of the matriarch was definitely not something good, and the King was suffering for it.

The Constable's smile vanished as the man asked a serious question, and the sub-leader reached for Pascal, pulling the six week old pup into his arms. For once, the pup squirmed out of his grasp and wandered back to the tree root he had been playing with. "Yes, we've had some problems. They've.. stopped, more or less, so it's just up to us to keep our eyes open. I don't know what had happened exactly, but I was informed that Ayita, Skoll's mother and the King's mate, was injured." He paused, wondering if he had actually formally announced his title. He didn't know if Jimson had put two and two together. Oh well. This was not the time to begin enforcing formality. "She's gone. She succumbed to her injuries and we don't know what it was."

Silvano leaned against the trunk of the tree, keeping his eyes shifting from the large dog's form to his sons. "Thank you for your efforts, and so new to us. I truly thank you. Vigilante and I can't be everywhere, and since her death, I feel like a lot of the burden is on my shoulders to make up for his time of mourning."

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