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Post by Flare on Apr 2, 2020 10:19:13 GMT -6
Keeping the rakai constantly tied up felt... wrong. It was Shabh's territory too, he shouldn't be tied up while Flare was around and doing his gardening. As the dragon hound grew older, he MIGHT calm down and be a good companion...guard for him. Frail as he looked, he could defend himself. And would too. Distracted in his thoughts, his elbow got knocked upwards by an eager snout, snuffling around for his dinner. Thankfully, the bowl wasn't being held in that hand or it would've gone skyward. Abandoning the bowl briefly, he turns to Shabh, with a frown of disappointment. Good god he was tall at the shoulder. Panting with glee, Shabh's tail started a new jet stream. Dinner? Food? Play? Huh huh huh?! How did he have so much energy? No, this would be a needed thing. Either to teach him to stay put or to go away when prompted. Like to his bed or something. Because that garden gate would not remain open. Stay 2 114 17.20
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Post by Flare on Apr 2, 2020 10:31:29 GMT -6
Okay, he knew what he was going to do. Picking up the stray rope that tied Shabh to his stake, the humanish tied him down again, and made sure the restraint wasn't too close. {Stay Shabh} he tells the rakai, and starts walking away back to his workstation. The dragon hound pauses in confusion as he gets up to follow the food giver, but can't go forward. What? He looks back, finding the tie attached to his rudimentary harness that he'd essentially worn since arriving here, adjusted for size of course. A puppy sized setup wouldn't fit him anymore. The rope wove around a stake in the ground. Shabh gives a few experimental tugs forward. But nothing seems to give. That stake is very deeply driven in. He waited a few moments, then Flare walked back to Shabh. The rakai's attention was directed at the stake in the ground briefly. Stay 3 115 18.20
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Post by Flare on Apr 2, 2020 10:37:05 GMT -6
That was before hearing the awkward three footedness of his master. With a treat in his hand? {Good Shabh. Very good stay.} Offering out the treat, Shabh forgot the stake and rope briefly to enjoy his attention and his treat. He was a good boy. Leaning into his ears getting scratched the rakai woofed softly. He loved this. But just as he was enjoying it to the peak, Flare walked away again. {Stay Shabh.} he told him. The stake and rope held Shabh fast as he got up from his leanin, and he felt it more because of already being at the end of the rope. As much as he wanted to go forward, the pup could not. But he was stronger now. Giving an experimental tug forward, but no luck, Shabh planted his butt on the ground with a huff. The tip of his tail twitching in a catlike fashion of annoyed. A few minutes pass, and Flare returned, with his bowl of food. Or at least he thought it was food. {Very good stay Shabh. Very good.} he praises the rakai, and gives him another treat, and a bowl of water. The food is still across the plot. Stay 4 116 19.20
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Post by Flare on Apr 2, 2020 10:43:52 GMT -6
Water is all on Shabh's mind after his treat disappears into his mouth and then into his belly. His snout in the water, noisily lapping away and drinking his fill, Flare has to work fast to remove the lead's tie into the stake. If he was able to stay without being tied down in one place, this would be successful, in Flare's mind. So far, this went... surprisingly smoothly. But his gut tells him this wouldn't last. There would be a bump in the path. {Stay Shabh} He tells the rakai, and walks back to finish prepping his meal. Just a bit more mushing around with the tumeric to get a proper coating. His muzzle dripping with water, Shabh sneezed briefly, licking his chops before looking to see that his master was gone again. And far away. He examines the water dish for more, laps some more, and looks up to wait for him. {Come Shabh} at last! He surgest forward, and nearly crashes into Flare, who has to brace himself against the workbench to avoid being knocked flat. {Very good stay. Good come Shabh.} he gives much praise, much attention. This looked like it worked swell. {Who wants food.} Arf! Arf! I want food! Stay 5 117 20.20 lv 69 Flare 24/32 Shabh -groooow-
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Post by Flare on Apr 2, 2020 10:56:06 GMT -6
{Ouch.} Flare pulls away from the workbench a few days later, finding Shabh's nose in the crook of his arm again. But his growth spurt didn't stop at just size. A small horn grew in just above where the dragon hound's cold nose began. Not to mention the twin staves poking out on either side of his head beside his ears. This little horn hurt when Shabh shoved his nose into the crook of his arm. or into his leg, or anything still flesh. Ow. He closed his arm crook off to the rakai, who finally backed off. With his backwards movement, the bone wings on his back rattled. Still curious, still very in your business, Shabh wagged his tail, giving a single bark to get his master's attention. He was distracted though, his foreleg raised in the air, seeing a red mark that grazed his pale scaleless...ness. Had he done that? By the look... he might have. Oops. Ears droop, and he gives the sad puppy look. He needed a lesson in 'no'. badly. No 1 118 1.20
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Post by Flare on Apr 2, 2020 11:09:47 GMT -6
Were rakai able to have their nose horns filed down a bit? Or blunted at all? He makes a point to ask Cortana the next time he happened to see her out and about. The first time this happened while the horn was growing in he really thanked his bad luck of his post nodeness, because Shabh's way of saying hello came with putting his nose in a crook of limb where he could reach. ...including the fork. Imagine that, people having problems with treat stealing or what not, and here was Flare with issues of his rakai being too friendly in his greetings. At least he hadn't started becoming aggressive. That he thanked himself for being almost constantly at the pup's side and giving him probably too much attention. Shabh took it all in greedily, and loved every moment of it. He rarely had a bad mood day of being sore or grumpy and took every day in stride. No 2 119 2.20
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Post by Flare on Apr 2, 2020 11:18:31 GMT -6
No longer distracted by the angry red mark on his arm, which didn't appear to be bleeding, Flare faced Shabh with a disappointed look and posture. {No Shabh.} he tells the hound firmly, pointing at the mark on his arm. The look upwards, the drooped ears, the slight whine... Shabh knew he'd done bad. This wasn't the first time that he'd nuzzled his master and been repelled like this... but it hurt all the same. Sad dog look. But he can't stay mad at the rakai too long. Heck, he wasn't even angry. It took a lot to make Flare mad. He pats the rakai's head, rubbing the base of his horns. {I am not mad. You didn't mean it Shabh.} A sad whine again, but his tail thumps at the attention. He likes scratches. The horns are kinda itchy after all. Master's rough hands are very good at finding the itchy spots. No 3 120 3.20
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Post by Renathan on Apr 2, 2020 12:59:40 GMT -6
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Post by Flare on Apr 2, 2020 13:12:46 GMT -6
However, its easily forgotten that his master isn't fond on being greeted in the fork of the limbs, arm or leg regardless, and a few hours later, Shabh is lonely and does the same exact thing over again. Its not the same limb combo, but the reaction is the same. A hiss of discomfort as horn meets flesh and he clamps the limb close to his body with a turn and a firm {NO Shabh. No.} He walks away and ignores the rakai for a few minutes, examining the damage, if any done. Not really anything done, but the mark is prominent and angry. Thankfully, no lasting damage done. Plus Shabh he pretty much knew didn't mean it. He can hear a whine, the hangdog look in the corner of his eye. The large animal doing his sad looks and pitious sounds. Finally, he headed back to the rakai, and took a seat on the ground. His back facing him. Would he do it again? He could hear pawsteps. {No Shabh... no.} No 4 121 4.20
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Post by Flare on Apr 2, 2020 13:21:00 GMT -6
A pause. Shabh was sad. He didn't mean to hurt his master. And now being told off and ignored too? He whines, deep in his throat, and puts his head against the outside of Flare's arm, tilting his muzzle as to not rub horns on the exposed scaleless skin. Putting his weight into the gesture. A few seconds pass, without Flare taking apparent notice. The rakai sighs, and lays down beside him. Putting his head close to his master's not-leg leg. A careful rough hand pats his head, rubbing around the ears. {Good boy Shabh.} he mutters softly. {Good no.} Shabh's response is a deep breath and exhale heavily. Almost pouting a bit, but the scratches are nice. and the treat that followed. Sneaky food. Finally they got up, Flare using his cane-staff and hobbling off to sit on a stump and stretch his limbs out. It took a bit before the rakai followed him over,... {no Shabh. No...} The weight of the dragon hound bumped against him as he rubbed against the cotton or burlap fabric of his pants, greeting through touch and heading back to where he could rest. {Good boy Shabh. Good no.} that worked, the rubbing was fine. Just not in the forks of limbs. No 5 122 5.20 25/33 Shabh
-end shabh's time in garden for now-
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Post by Flare on Apr 2, 2020 21:36:10 GMT -6
Crack. Crack. Crack. The curled black plants remain as tough and hard to crack open as ever. A few spidery marks spread over the blackened skins of the dried out beanlike things. The scales that patterned his tail thankfully protected the muscled limb from being damaged by repeated bludgeoning of innocent claw beans. Huffing a bit, Flare glowers at his blackened devils claws. What did he need to do, drop a boulder on them? Smashing them with his staff-cane didn't work, and neither did cracking them open with his tail's blunt force. Only the roots were even used for the medicines of treating pain and lack of appetite. Maybe he could track down that baakir and see if its sheer weight and thick hooves could crush the roots into something usable. What else could he use... Perhaps cracking it with a metal shovel? Or at least trying to pierce the hard skin. 123 6.20
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Post by Flare on Apr 2, 2020 23:42:32 GMT -6
The blade of his spade had very little use outside of the garden. Without a great deal of physical labor to move rocks, it didn't make sense to try and delve the mountain outside the city for going mining for gems and rocks. There were plenty of rocks around, just had to dig out holes for new trees. The root didn't stand against a shovel being stabbed through the skin. Such a tuberous root, but it took time to peel. The blade pulls away from the split root and Flare leans it carefully against the old oak, retreiving his root to start peeling it away. For the knife he bought from the local shop wasn't sharp enough to pierce the skin of the devils claw. Since he had no idea how to make a chair, or thought to buy a chair, Flare had a log stool instead. Just a stump. 124 8.20
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Post by Flare on Apr 4, 2020 22:24:45 GMT -6
Half of the hooked fruit broke apart with his work of starting to peel the tuberous root. From his studies in the core's botanics, devils claw grew in hot arid areas, and if kept moist until germinated, could be grown again without having to do much. It wasn't HOT here though. So he might need to figure out a hot box or something. Perhaps a heated bed of dirt? No... top soil and sand. It could handle being warm and sunny. As he held the blackened pod in his hand, shaking it into his opposite hand for seeds. The seeds needed to be soaked first. Good good, it had several seeds. And he had some water in a wooden bowl handy. The bowl had a...wax of sort smeared on the inside and outside ot prevent the porous surface from absorbing the water. A few pokes around to separate the seeds... good. He was pleased. 125 9.20
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Post by Renathan on Apr 4, 2020 22:35:39 GMT -6
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Post by Flare on Apr 26, 2020 14:56:13 GMT -6
Leaving the facility and gettinb back to the garden, felt like a million mile walk going back home. The basket he received gave Flare a mixture of feelings. When he looked at a baby, ‘cute’ didn’t immediately cross his mind. Nor did ‘adorable’ or other descript words of usually describing a baby… well anything. Finely cocooned into their blankets, the pup, known as a houlou, slept away. Pup I, as on the paperwork. For now, the basket would work as a bed for the animal. Just like Shabh, he really didn’t have the first idea on how to take care of a dog. But some months of working with the excitable and exploratory dragon hound at least gave him a vaguely ethereal shaped of an idea on where to start. Basic needs. That he actually needed to teach this dog something before a month passed. Not just something, but basic obediences. Thankfully this basket had handles. 126 19.20
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