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Post by Lethalia on Sept 30, 2020 20:21:36 GMT -6
other critters around/not leveling
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Post by Lethalia on Sept 30, 2020 20:29:21 GMT -6
Her intent had originally been to hit up the cute little cottage shop before rounding over to the mountain for a walk and maybe even some mining. It had sounded like a wonderful day to Lethalia, looking forward to embracing the colder weather with a sarane hatchling who she wouldn't have to worry about catching a chill. Both locations were much closer to her rural home than the rest of the city, making for a rather relaxing ride with Mavelle. It was going to be great! That being the key word, though - was. It was certainly the best of laid plans of mortals that set the gods into fits of laughter, and Lethalia got the distinct feeling that someone was cackling at her right now. Sarma's plans differed from Lethalia's, just a little. Being Stark's grandbaby, Leth had assumed the newly hatched blue would be every bit as chill. The gods probably got some damn good merriment from that idea, too. Sarma lv|0.1 ly|0.1
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Post by Lethalia on Sept 30, 2020 20:53:45 GMT -6
Because she was wrong about the hatchling. Dead wrong. From the moment Leth lifted Sarma from her cozy nest to come along and adventure, the squalling started. Ear-splitting and panicked, it sent nest-mother Esti charging in with flames dancing on her tongue. Upon discovering it was only the satyr handling one of the hatchlings, Esti's flame died down to embers and black soot flaking upon the hen's throat. It seemed the hen would allow her owner to handle the hatchlings, Though it was clear she wouldn't allow the transgression to go without a suitable amount of glowering. Lethalia would need to find something good in an offering of forgiveness to the broodmother, this time. This little blue-purple terror was released entirely by her own doing - not like she could feign ignorance given how intentional the hen's breeding had been. Not like she didn't know her dam's infamy for savagery, or the idea that the blue blooded champion in her was... particularly known for his rage, to say the least. Stark's cold blood wasn't enough to cool that particular kind of fire. 2 |
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Post by Lethalia on Sept 30, 2020 20:54:29 GMT -6
Most of the hatchlings, especially at this age, could be easily swaddled in something resembling the baby-burrito usually reserved for humanoids. It even worked just the same to keep sharp claws tucked in and kept to themselves! It had worked on every little thing she'd looked after thus far, it was hard to imagine it could fail her now. That too, had been overly hopeful in favor of the henling's demeanor. The first blanket... well, it didn't last long enough to even venture out of the barn. Slightly forlorn over it's loss - she had liked that blanket! - but Lethalia wasn't one to be deterred all that easily. She had raised Vidarr, after all! So another, thicker blanket was found, and put up with every bit as much fuss as the first. This one ended up bunched up and folded into Sarma's tiny legs and claws, latching onto it and unremovable like her life depended on it. 3 |
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Post by Lethalia on Sept 30, 2020 20:54:41 GMT -6
"Y'know wha? Fine. This'll work jus' fine for me, baby girl," Lethalia had informed the whelp, voice surprisingly even given the circumstances. Her patience with the babies was limitless, or so she'd thought. Perhaps it would be Sarma to find the bottom of the well, but for now, the hen-and-blanket wad was more easily scooped up than a flailing hatchling. It didn't halt Sarma's yelling, but there was only so much to be done about it. Problem with that being, they had to take some mode of transportation, to ensure this wasn't a dawn till' dusk excursion. She wasn't about to take a hatchling on Vidarr, nor did she have entirely many other options available to her. (There was a desperate need for a ridable hen for situations like these.) The only mount available would be Mavelle, then. Lethalia had come to be able to depend on the hardy little mare as the years passed and she calmed down - 4
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Post by Lethalia on Sept 30, 2020 20:54:55 GMT -6
but her sometimes-stalwart mare wasn't impervious to what this day brought. It was an utterly normal day for her, too. Patiently ground-tied with her trailing lead, Mavelle stood with one hip cocked and hoof resting, halter on under her bridle and waiting her owner's return. One look at the little terror in Leth's arms, and the mare's ears pinned flat down and tossed her head, eyes rolling and showing their whites in her horror. That thing was going with them?! Why on earth would they do that? "Mav, really? C'mon, she's jus' a baby," Lethalia 'admonished' with a soothing tone, even if she knew the mare would sense her owner was already harried by the wee monster. There was no faulting Mavelle for her feelings towards it, that was for sure. From one prey animal to another, Lethalia tried to inspire as much calm as she could with her own emotions, hoping to smooth out the mare so they could get on with their morning. Sarma lv|1 ly|1
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Post by Lethalia on Sept 30, 2020 20:55:19 GMT -6
It was fine, really, she could deal with this. Even if it did prove harder than expected to smooth out her slightly-frayed nerves, and Mavelle's, with Sarma's squawking right in both of their ears. Stubbornly, the satyr made the best attempt she could to soothe them both when neither critter wanted much to do with her or one another. When it proved Mav wouldn't settle with the squealing whelp nearby, and said squealer wasn't about to shut up either, Lethalia gave in and hauled the henling off to the house. Mavelle could calm down in the absence of the squalor, especially when her owner took her own harried emotions away with her instead of letting their anxieties feed one another. Sometimes the path of lest resistance needed taken... At least if she'd taken Vidarr, he would have just found the whole thing entirely too funny. It just didn't seem smart to take an unflighted hatchling... flying. 6
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Post by Lethalia on Sept 30, 2020 20:56:49 GMT -6
Mavelle seemed to have gotten her head back on once the shrieking thing had been taken away. On her end, Sarma was unsurprisingly soothed by the choice bits of meat Leth had in the house, mostly reserved for training treats but this was an 'emergency' exception. It took her fit down a few octaves when her little teeth were busy with food, but she still growled and grumbled around the marrow bone she retained. Lethalia packed a few more in the event Sarma needed a new pacifier while out, but it looked like her two girls were finally settled to go! It had only taken.. all morning... It was fine, it was fine. Mavelle had gotten into a mood and saw it fit to spook at every single rock and downed log she'd seen a thousand times. It was fine. Neighbourhood houluh who she'd normally dismiss with a snort or stomp sent the mare flying - but it was fine. It had to be fine, otherwise the mare's reactivity would become even more unpredictable. 7
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Post by Lethalia on Sept 30, 2020 20:57:37 GMT -6
Sarma wasn't a huge fan of the jolty ride, and began to complain heartily once more. Fine. Her girls' fussing took up too much time to go trail ride around Leth's favorite lovely mountain spots; she'd thought Sarma would appreciate the cold altitude like her grandsire. But that didn't happen - fine. If nothing else, Lethalia intended on getting something, anything, done today. Abandoning the mountainous path partway to the mines, the sour group of ladies made their way instead to the quest inquisitor's cottage. With all of their stopping and changing of plans, the sun sat low in the sky by the time they reached the building, mere hours away from the horizon. Lethalia looked at the cottage with much less gusto than she'd thought she'd had earlier in the morning. Going in to help someone else's woes sounded a lot less promising, now. They'd probably prefer someone who had their shit together a bit more. 8
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Post by Lethalia on Sept 30, 2020 20:58:27 GMT -6
Sarma had mercifully worn herself out into a nap, but Mavelle's nerves were clearly still shot, dainty ears flickering at every sound. Sliding off the mare as gingerly as she could, Leth deftly took up the mare's halter lead and flicked the buckle on her bridle so that she could release the bit and let the headcollar dangle from her neck. Leading the mare up to the building, she turned on a spigot attached to a large water trough, a common amenity for visitors to tend to their mounts. Absentmindedly she stoked the mare's mane and hoped Sarma wouldn't awaken anytime soon. It wouldn't matter much anyway, she hadn't intended on going on any more ventures aside from home this late in the evening. The cottage door creaked, and what looked to be the last few customers breezed out - a deluge of forgotten paper fliers scattering with their movement. At least it meant she could get a look at what was going on instead of dragging her tired self inside. 9
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Post by Lethalia on Sept 30, 2020 21:00:01 GMT -6
Lethalia snatched a fluttering flier up, as though she could have read it anyway. Even if she had, the several different boot and paw prints all over the leaf made it rather hard to make out anything printed upon it. Thumbing over a fancy embossed comet and the smeared glittering of mica powder borders, she figured it'd been nice at some point. Someone had put a lot of effort into this for it to be thrown away so carelessly. It took care to nestle Sarma close, hoping to keep too much jostling from disturbing her. Looking up past the paper, the satyr startled to see a woman approaching her - and automatically put on a more welcoming smile than the furrowed brow she'd likely been sporting. "Evenin'," she greeted, taking in the lady's lab coat and tidy starred hair bow, and those cute round glasses. This scientist (she must be with the lab coat and all, right?) looked way too smart to be engaging the likes of her, likely downtrodden and dusty in her flannel and cut off jeans. Sarma lv|2 ly|2
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Post by Lethalia on Sept 30, 2020 21:00:16 GMT -6
"Hey there, sorry to bother," the scientist responded with a slight wave and tired smile, "My daughter just really wanted to see, ah, the 'pretty unicorn'. I tried to tell her equillion aren't unicorns, but..." she trailed off and shrugged at the impossibility of convincing a child of things like that. "I think she's too shy to ask."The girl was so well hidden, Leth hadn't even seen her at first, clinging behind her mum's legs and neatly hidden by that sweeping lab coat. In an instant the satyr's features softened, bringing Mavelle's head out of the trough with slight pressure on the lead. "O'course! Mavelle is friendly," she said, more down to the little girl than anything. Shrinking back from her gaze, the girl seemed immensely too shy to come out - but the temptation of Mavelle's curious sniffing nose was too much to ignore, and a tiny hand reached out. 11
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Post by Lethalia on Sept 30, 2020 21:00:53 GMT -6
"Go on, she said it was okay," the scientist murmured, stepping aside to force the girl into view. The girl instantly tucked her hand behind her back, bashfully trying to hide behind mum before the scientist side-stepped the attempt. She looked tired from a day out with her mother, but still looked adorable in a starry-printed dress in the same print as the scientist's hair bow, with little glittering stars pinned in her hair. "S'okay, y'can come 'n see her," Lethalia encouraged, unusually aware of how coarse her speech felt in comparison. The mare's head was brought down to the girl's level, a finger gingerly holding onto the halter beneath her chin, just in case. Sarma was still sleeping in the cook of her arm, right? There would be hell to pay if she woke up, and she didn't care much for witnesses to the event. Hopefully she'd brought enough pacifying meat for the occasion. 12
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Post by Lethalia on Sept 30, 2020 21:01:10 GMT -6
Finally that small hand connected with Mavelle's soft pink nose, elicting a squeal and giggle at the rabbitlike twitch of it. Mav had likely remembered seeing Briar at this stage years ago, when she carried her owner on that particular adventure Beyond. This girl would be about half Briar's age now, and easily struck Leth in the heart all the same. Proud as she was of her tolerant mare, she knew her placidity was in due part of Lethalia's own protectiveness over the little ones. More was conveyed to the mare than she'd ever really considered, but she was grateful for her steadiness in this situation no matter the source. "Woah, she has a dragon too, Mom!" the girl exclaimed after a few moments, attention completely stolen away from the blue hatchling in her arms. How the wee one was still asleep was a miracle she wouldn't begin to question, lest it's effects wore off for being acknowledged. 13
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Post by Lethalia on Sept 30, 2020 21:01:27 GMT -6
"Its a sarane, sweetie," her mother corrected, giving the little blue a look of renewed interest. "Do you... breed them?"In a word. If by 'breeding them' she meant 'revolved your entire life around them', then yes, she did. "I do," she confirmed, even if she hadn't personaly bred Sarma, it was close enough to the truth to avoid an explanation. "You see, I've been here all day looking for help tonight! Maybe you have others-" The woman's enthusiasm dropped upon spotting the mussed letter still crumpled in the satyr's hand also holding the hatchling. "Sorry, never mind. I see you've already read our flier.""I dinn't get a chance t'read it yet," Leth lied, thinking to hand the wreaked flier back to her before thinking better of it. She stood to keep small curious fingers away from her crabby hatchling. Mavelle was a safer target for those. "What're y' lookin' for?"14
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