With Meade distracted enough to give her time for a quick getaway, Lethalia took her chance to dart over to the new clusters of bushes. Fragrance hit her before recognition did - the overwhelming smell of lilacs in full bloom. Each branch was heavy with their clusters of flower, bowing under the weight of many grape-like clusters of flowers. Stepping in the midst of a grove of lilacs was enough of an oddity it gave her pause, able to enjoy it only momentarily before her thoughts wandered back to the hen 'outside'. Meade would just love this!
With the hope that the mansion grounds would keep still and not try any funny business, she tracked back a few steps so that she could peek around the nearest manicured lilac bush. The 'worst case' scenario would be finding out that Meade was more independent than originally thought and wandered off. Wouldn't be the worst thing for the hen to have garnered some courage.
Meade hadn't even noticed her absence, or at last didn't seem worried about it if she had. Winding through the rose bushes seemed to be her current and biggest joy in life, though her owner could only consider the thorn welts she might be tending to when they returned home. This might not have been the sort of lesson she intended to teach - pulling away from Meade when she was being bad was supposed to be a punishment for being bratty, not give her a chance to explore - but it would still be good to see how the adolescent acted when left to her own devices.
Especially since the satyr didn't really care about plants all that much. The lilac grove was pretty neat, and their shades of purple varied just as much as the roses did with emphasis on lavender. It was neat enough, but she'd enjoy the hen having a good time with them than she could appreciate herself.
Watching Meade from her hidden position in her newfound lilac bushes, Lethalia found she had a pretty good view of what the hen was up to. As long as the cloying sweet smell of the abundance of flowers didn't tickle her nose enough to make her sneeze, she could just keep a quiet eye on the sarane. Though the satyr wasn't certain what she was waiting for, surely something would have to change sooner or later. Meade couldn't keep up just loving on the roses forever, right? As she watched, Lethalia became more and more doubtful that the hen was capable of giving up on her current joy anytime soon. Wasn't exactly what the woman had expected, so now what? Either wait - which was basically just as boring as walking next to the hen - or try for another struggle to peel her away? Neither choice sounded like a more favorable one.
Last Edit: Feb 23, 2020 3:22:27 GMT -6 by Lethalia
The satyr would soon b heartened that she wasn't going to have to wrestle Meade anywhere. It was a much longer amount of time than she'd expected the hen to last, but eventually Meade's progress slowed, as if realizing something was amiss quite a time after her owner had actually gone amiss. It was always hard to tell what traits creatures would carry with them to adulthood and which ones would eventually fade away. Left a little room for hoping for some improvement in her perception before the hen was fully grown.
At least she did take notice at some point, and Meade's slowing pace coasted to a stop. Muzzle covered in tiny pricks of blood emerged from the thorny bushes, nostrils flared with a deep sampling of the air as Meade searched for familiar notes nearby. It was unusual to find herself on her own, especially in 'the outside' like this.
Upon discerning - or deciding - she'd been left alone, Meade let out the strangest noise that Lethalia had ever heard come from a sarane. She plopped right down on the grass and seemed to summon up a great breath of air for something like a grand roar. Instead, from deep within her chest, the noise started as a pining whine and ended with her maw agape in a croaking, pitiful chirp.
Lethalia could only watch, brows knitting together as Meade let out another strange squeak, sounding no less distressed than the first. What was she... doing? Several more of the wailing noise followed, and the satyr's heart skipped a beat when she processed enough to remember... She'd heard quite a number of baby crocodiles in her ventures, even from people trying to sell them as pets. They... often squeaked. Quite a lot, in fact, when they were hollering for their mother to come take them off the traders' hands.
Lest Meade's symphony attracted something a bit more than her owner's attention, Lethalia ought to quiet the hen swiftly. It might not be entirely likely, but it was possible that the hatchling could gardener them quite a lot of attention from other sarane. Either a broody hen looking for the lost baby she heard, or a drake seeking an easy meal. Neither of which the satyr was equipped to deal with just right now.
"Meade," she hollered, once it was clear Meade wasn't about to stop of suddenly catch her scent among the lilacs. "Meade, baby. I'm righ'here." She stepped away from the cover her thicket provided, patting her hands on her thighs to make a little more noise for the hen. Come on, you big baby, don't get us both killed - either by a drake or something summoned from within the mansion. Both endings sounded like a bad time.
Last Edit: Feb 23, 2020 3:24:29 GMT -6 by Lethalia
Meade's bright eyes lit up even more upon sighting her owner, the last squeak she had dying on her breath. She was up and bounding over to her owner in an instant, and for the way this hen is at least the satyr can say she's growing into grace. Good, the little thing had to have something going for her!
Reaching out as Meade approached, the satyr warded her off before the hatchling could try and jump on her - she didn't need a fully grown sarane trying the same - diverting it into loving strokes down her neck and looping an arm around the hen to comfort and calm her while contained. "Y'didn't even know I was missin' till a few seconds ago, you dork," Lethalia pointed out, grinning even as she teased the hen. It was all soft voices to her, anyway. "Sorry for leavin' you, kid. I think you'll be okay though."
Meade's squeaking definitely wasn't that big of a deal, but the satyr was going to be on her toes for a little while as her instincts remained wary of anything the noise could've attracted. For now, it seemed her chirps attracted nothing more than a deep black dove perched in the thickets overhead, cooing softly in the absence of the noise that drew it in. Any attempts at pointing it out to Meade were lost on the hen though. She was too excited that her owner really hadn't abandoned her, and really she seemed to give much less of her attention to living creatures. Might be sweet and gentle with flowers, but pocketpets she was introduced to? Not interested. "Okay, calm down, y'okay," Lethalia soothed, unable to help herself from babying Meade. Ah well, if she did too much damage it could be remedied once the hen grew a little more.
There was no avoiding the hen's red-flecked face, especially considering plenty of it had already been smeared on Lethalia's palms and jacket, much to her dismay. Meade definitely wasn't hurt, just accosted by hundreds of thorns that she'd been steered away from... or at least prevented from taking a nosedive into them while she was on the leash. So much from keeping the hen out of that particular hazard.
"Here, there's plenty'a Meade goodies 'round here," Lethalia told her, trying to get the hen to stay down and just calm herself. But the little one just wanted to regain the contact she lost every time the woman moved, making a bit of a pest of herself. If only she would make such good friends with another one of the hatchlings so Leth didn't have to absorb the brunt of it. "Look here, baby. Your favorite!" 'Her favorite' of course being any kind of blossom.
Last Edit: Feb 23, 2020 3:21:32 GMT -6 by Lethalia
At least there was one boon to Meade's obsession with flowers. Lethalia managed to lean over to on of the lilac bushes, pulling one down to where she was kneeling. Laden with those pretty clusters of blooms, they quickly had Meade's eyes following their every move as they were swayed in front of her. Perhaps Leth was going to need to start carrying flowers to pacify the beast whenever she was going out with this little one.
Her eyes even narrowed a little as the hen finally drew away from her surrogate mother's embrace, wanting instead to get a good look at these flowers she'd never seen before. "We'll hafta take some home," Lethalia remarked, letting the branch snap back into place - Meade jolting after it. It would be especially pretty seeing blooms that matched the purple coming in on Meade's tail and eyes, and it looked like she might even be getting her sire's markings in purple.
It was quite lovely how the small amount of purple Vidarr was able to pass on, just that bright flash on the tip of his poisonous tail, tended to pass on to his offspring so reliably. The outcome of breeding him with a purple hen would be quite nice... if the creatures ever showed any interest in bearing clutches again. Lethalia had more than enough of the drake's offspring to keep her happy, but there was some small part of her that was sad there wouldn't be any more of his hatchlings after these ones grew.
At least Meade is growing mercifully slowly. It would give the satyr more time with her while she was little and sweet, a luxury so far not had with sarane. For tall this baby's quirks, that was one Lethalia couldn't complain about. For now, if all the hatchling wanted to do was stay in the mansion yard and play with flowers... they probably would.
In front of the preoccupied hen, one of the lilac bushes gave the slightest twitch. Lethalia blinked at it, but remained where she was, holding down a flowering branch for the hen. The leaves gave another twitch, one definitely unrelated to either Meade or the woman manhandling the shrubbery. If the movement was that far down, Lethalia had to admit to herself she wasn't entirely concerned about whatever could be down there. Sure, the mansion had the capability of hiding some good spook down there for them, but the satyr was determined to not end up spooking Meade again so soon. If the critter did it, fine. But she wasn't about to make a ruckus about it, and instead kept an eye on the twitching leaves as Meade continued to lip at the lilacs. Whatever was in the dark within those branches, seemed to be having second thoughts on actually coming out.
"Yes, I see you," she had to soothe to Meade as the attention she was giving the hen waned enough for her to take notice. Butting into her owner, Meade saw it fit to get attention back from whatever else the woman was staring at - she needed to get her priorities straight! The hen was right here and whatever the satyr was distracted by was... not the right thing. Much like an oversized dog at this point in her life, Meade could cause no small amount of disruption if she wedged herself beneath one of her owner's elbows and pushed a little. In this way, she could ensure there was no end to the attention she was getting because she had to be paid attention to! "Meade, c'mon, I don't need'ta always have 'ya in my pocket." Even if she wasn't a lot like her sire, she did seem to inherit the entitlement.
To be expected that as the sarane's quality grew, so too would the hard-headedness that came with rank. Perhaps the highest tier drakes would be as aloof as tat-lung were said to be. It was painfully evident in going from how hens like Esti acted at this age to how Meade is now. Though a fraidy baby to be sure, Meade also seemed to be learning how to swing her weight around. They couldn't have that, not with the mother-bear sort of figure hens grew into.
Even being as huge of a brat as she was, continuing to push her bulk into the woman's side in a attempt to topple her over, it was so hard for the satyr to punish the littlest critters. Call it a weakness, but she just couldn't bring herself to. Probably why a good lot of them ended up accidentally spoiled, too. "Meade..." she warned again, even if her heart wasn't into it.
Ashe: When the credits have been handed over IC, and the transfer is posted. Threads are often left open a little longer, in case the customer wishes to RP their exit or anything else.
Sept 13, 2020 14:49:02 GMT -6
Renathan: I've been meaning to ask- is a person considered out of the shop when the shop transfer is posted/items are given, or when the shop thread is locked?
Sept 13, 2020 14:20:16 GMT -6
Flare: It was hinted in the discord, so nothing officially announced.
Sept 10, 2020 22:30:10 GMT -6
Riku: Oh, when and where was that announced? Lol
Sept 10, 2020 21:38:50 GMT -6
Xentus: Sarane eggs. Lil' egg hunt around the boards to get a brown with neat markings
Sept 10, 2020 13:45:16 GMT -6
Riku: What eggs...? 😅
Sept 10, 2020 13:40:49 GMT -6