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Y helo thar pupparoos!  Come play and things! :P @Owen @Kite @Phoebe @Vasa

With everything that had happened, he'd honestly forgotten about the deer antler he'd buried upon arriving at the plateau.  Kind of silly on his part, but fortunately Quixote remembered where it was, dug it up -- even took the time to wash it off -- and had brought it back with him to the den to give to the pups.  It wasn't a particularly big antler, just three points to it, but he'd hauled it all this way and the kids would probably have more fun with it than he would, at this point.  Okay, it had a few teeth marks on it, but it was in pretty good shape considering it was carried halfway across the map and buried for a few months...

Anyway, the guard changeover happened while the pups were napping and since they were a bit larger now, Quixote was okay flopping down in the mottled shade of a bush to wait for them to wake up and come investigate.  Knowing how things went, that'd probably be pretty soon if they weren't already waking just from the fact Raven had headed off to stretch her legs a bit.  The antler, though?  He left it tantalizingly silhouetted a few feet beyond the threshold of the den, awaiting the attack of tiny teeth.
Owen marched forth with increasing confidence, giving the dirt framing the den exit a snippity little yip of superiority once he had safely passed by it. Hah! See how much quicker and cleverer he was? No way that dumb dirt corner was going to sneak up and bite him again. ...Owen's smug high-stepping gait was halted in its tracks, however, when he saw the sudden spikes that loomed up before him, their pointed tines gleaming wickedly in the late afternoon light. He splayed his legs wide and stared at the bizarre, threatening shape with his head lowered and his ears flicking to and fro in uncertainty. Had someone...booby-trapped the den entrance?! Oh no! How would Mommy get back in here if that nasty spiked array was still in place when she returned?!

Owen squinched up his nose and half-folded back his ears in uncertainty as he crouched lower to the ground and began to creep up upon the menacing spikebeast. If it was alive, it seemed to be asleep...but Owen wasn't certain it was actually alive. Even though to his nervously twitchy nose it smelled like maybe it at least had been, at some point—deliciously so, even. Tiptoeing gradually closer, quivering a little with anticipation as much as fear, he leaned over to give the spikes an uncertain poke, ready to turn tail and bolt for the safety of the dark den once more should the sleeping spikebeast magically awaken. How heavy was it? Would he possibly be able to somehow magically convince it to please move itself outta the way, one way or another?
Gonna go ahead and continue since I know stuff is busy for the rest of you!  Feel free to jump in whenever! :D

He yawned.  Man, it was just warm enough to make napping seem like a great idea.  He was supposed to be watching the pups, though, so probably not something he could really get away with unless he wedged himself in the den entrance and blocked them like a wombat.  As he was not a wombat and thus did not come equipped with the square bottom totally being remembered from a Crocodile Hunter episode, it seemed unlikely to work anyway.

Despite this, Quixote was debating giving it a try anyway until he spotted Owen poking his nose outside.  Man, had that bird incident or whatever traumatized him that much?  Well, hopefully he'd get over it, grow out of it -- something.   Maybe?  Hopefully.  Raven could probably sort him out if it became an issue... Right?  Yeah, Quixote was certainly clueless about some things.  At the very least, he'd hopefully be able to assure Owen that the antler was safe to abuse,  It's ok -- it's a toy for you and your sisters.  Give it a chomp!  He dipped his head to indicate the antler, kind of wishing he'd settled himself down a bit closer so he could actually touch it.  Smart.  Well, he could always get up if Owen didn't get the point.
Never stab a wombat in the rear!
That's...most of my wombatbum knowledge sourced right there, alas, 'cause I still haven't seen that Croc Hunter ep.  Woe  ;P

The familiar big stinky sooty-furred male was there behind the ominous spiked creature, his lounging silhouette slowly coming clear as, clued in by Quixote's movement, Owen raised bewildered and wary eyes to focus on it with some difficulty. The bigger male swooped his massive head toward the object, but didn't get too close to its terrible bony white claws reaching for the sky. Owen squinched up his nose doubtfully, looking from his father to the antler repeatedly. Then he reached out a creamy-furred paw of his own and gave it a hasty poke. He leaned quickly back and watched with wide eyes as the antler...rocked very slightly back and forth. Huh. Really? That was kind of anticlimactic.

Owen's inquisitive nose grew increasingly bold, and informed him as he thrust it forward with incrementally greater confidence that this strange object smelled of dirt and faint deliciousness despite its obvious total lack of milk. This despite it being milk-colored. Owen was confused, but after another quick pair of paw-pokes leaned forth and fastened his tiny jaws about the nearest convenient tine experimentally, just to make sure. Yep—no milk here, though his tentatively gnawing teeth still kind of liked the taste of it—somehow. He turned wide and wondering eyes upon his dad as he let out an inquisitive little yip. Then he wrapped his teeth around the object more firmly, awkwardly trying to hug it closer with his forepaws as he began to chew on it with a will. The problem was, given the curved angle of the antler and the slightly upraised end of it he had chosen, this required levering himself up off the ground just a little ways. He teetered back and forth a bit initially as he gladly crunched down on the bony toy, and then, as he repositioned his right paw to come at it afresh from the side for a better grip, managed to knock it sidewise and overbalanced entirely, tipping the object over on top of himself in the process. Owen yiped once as he hit the dirt, and then again, louder, as the tines thudded upside-down into the earth all around him a moment after. His voice burbled uncertainly and then quickly crescendoed into wavery wailing howls as he started to thrash about, realizing he had somehow become trapped beneath this terrible antlercage thing. It had tricked him! What the hell?! How on earth could he have let himself be lured in by its tantalizing scent and seemingly innocuous lack of movement to begin with?! Aaauuuuugh! Now it had him pinned, and was probably licking its chops, wherever among these white spikes those were hidden, in anticipation of next eating him.
All seemed well and good until somehow there was a bit of a tumble and some other other bizarre flailing that ended up with Owen in quite a predicament.  Oh god no -- Quixote scrambled wildly to his feet and over to rescue the poor kid, suddenly wishing that he really had stayed right up next to the den entry.

It didn't take much more than hooking his nose under one of the tines and giving barely a nod of his head to fling the antler a few feet away.  Quixote didn't really see where it landed, his nose was pointed back to Owen quick enough, poking and prodding to make sure that the boy was uninjured.  Though he was trying to calm his son, Quixote was pretty well wound up as well, Hey, hey, you're okay I think.  Just gotta be a little more careful..

Maaayybe he should have waited until they were older to hand over the antler.  It had seemed like such a good idea, but maybe he was just incredibly stupid.  Ugh.  Stupid, stupid...
Owen froze, and squeaked in uncertainty—the only part of him that moved was his big blurry eyes that tracked the arc of the antler as it went flying up, up, up and away, far out of his sight... He turned his bewildered eyes toward his father as Quixote poked and prodded at him with the selfsame big wet black nose that had sent the recalcitrant bony structure off somewhere into the heavens. Owen was in awe. The pup hadn't been able to get any leverage or focus to get that antler moved at all. This big black intruder must be some sort of, of superhero, as it turned out! Owen whimpered uncertainly, just a little, but there was in fact not a scratch on him and obviously this big black beast was going to work to protect him from the things in the world that decided to harm him.

Thusly, after a moment Owen began to squirm about, rolling himself over onto first his side and then his belly in the dust with some difficulty. He wriggled his muzzle first one way, then another, and then thrust it forward with curiosity intermingled with some remaining hesitance. He sniffed at his father to see if the bony antlerbeast had managed to get a bite in on the big bloke with fur the color of the darkest night skies, or if he had somehow miraculously escaped unscathed. Owen even grew so bold as to clumsily paw at him a time or two, to double-check the evidence of his eyes. That tricksy antler had snuck up on and trapped him so unexpectedly. How the heck had his father managed to outfox it?! Owen made an interrogative noise and opened his mouth wide as he tried to lever himself up using his father's nose as a ramp, all the better to get a really good look at him and figure out how the adult may have accomplished all of this. And if there were any more sneaksome thingamajigs about that his father might have spotted that had it in for innocent little puppies, for that matter. No more antlers about, right dad? No lurking tree branches, no screaming fluttering featherthings, no triptastic pointy rocks, no muddily slapping den corners tiptoeing up behind him...? Owen stared as deep and hard as he could into Quixote's luminous green eyes to try and make sure the more-alert elder did not espy anysuch terrible dangers.
Y ur posts so long, sorry mine's short? XD I can write more if you nag me I guess

Owen was a weird one, but then again for all Quixote knew, the boy was 100% normal and there was nothing goofy at all about his behavior.  Quixote was watching, waiting, and pretty much as silent as his son for now.  He waited for Owen to right himself but when it seemed to become obvious that Owen was just gonna stare more at him.

He finally spoke quietly, You're ok, right?  He slightly tipped his nose to bump Owen slightly.  Obviously since the antler was nothing more than an inanimate object, he'd ignored it.
No further lurking dangers were present in those green eyes so much larger than his own, no matter how long and deep Owen's own gaze burrowed into them. The pup sighed deeply, deflating in relief and starting to slide his ivory paws back down onto the ground. Then he loosed a little Eep! as he was gently nudged, and bumped the rest of the way down rather more abruptly than planned, landing on his rump with a soft thud and a small hiccup of surprise. Owen crossed his eyes in surprise and took a moment to check in with himself internally, to make sure he was in fact okay—with a craned look around at the ground below him eventually, to make sure it didn't intend on rising up to bite at him next, as Owen kept one paw reached out to his father's nose to delicately brace himself upon at that awkward angle. The problem was that although his concern relaxed and loosed its grip upon him, his newfound hiccups did not. First one, and then another came, which the hesitantly nodding Owen seemed to find a little disconcerting, from his dismayed expression.

That expression shifted even more quickly right back to heightened alarm however as he spotted the creature lurking there on its mismatched long spindly white legs. Right there! Standing quietly in the dirt directly behind Quixote, oh no! It hadn't disappeared or run off after all, only regrouped to craftily sneak back around and catch them by surprise. Good thing Owen was on the job. He loosed his best yowling howlbark to alert Quixote and any passers-by of the danger. The long, drawn-out noise was interrupted repeatedly however by his continued small hiccups. Raaugh— hic— raaugh— hic— raugh! He couldn't quite seem to get his siren going, here. Waaah ou-ou-ooouuuuuh! he yelled at last, for good measure, though his ears and pose were already broadcasting - Alarm-panic watch-out-watch-out! - in rapidfire pell-mell fashion in ptero. His articulation was not in any way improved by the continued intervening hic! hic!s. He made sure though to keep his father solidly between himself and that dastardly antlerbeast. If it decided to spring for the attack again, here, then Quixote could take care of it once more, and instead Owen would book it.
Yeah, at least Owen was fine.  Quixote's tail wagged slowly behind him.  And hiccups!  Wasn't being freaked out by something supposed to cure 'em, not cause them?  Eh, whatever.  Do you want to play or is that enough for now?

Except when he barely finished the question, that was when Owen started up again, he quickly looked in the direction indicated and --- didn't see anything?  Uh.  Oh.  Wait.  The antler?  Trying to keep from chuckling, he looked back to his son, It's ok.  You can yell at it all you want and it's gonna just sit there.  I promise you, it's just for you to chew on.  It's like a fancy stick!  Maybe it'd get through to him.  Or not.  Quixote wasn't sure how much was just kids being goofy and how much was them just being themselves.
Owen's caterwauling diminished but the hiccups continued. This may have interfered somewhat with the gravity of the situation as the boy stared long and hard at his father. "It's just gonna sit there"...? Yeah, no, that's what he'd thought last time, and just look where it had gotten him! Owen would have thought that Quixote really would've learned better from the antler's sneakiness all around, here, just now. Did the puppies get all the brains in this family, or what? "Like a fancy stick," Owen's ass! The thing had fought back! Owen wasn't about to be lured in by the thing again no matter how delicious it smelled. Stinky ol' Quixote could try fighting the thing if he was so hellbent on insisting on its harmlessness.

In fact, Owen got a vague feeling that his elder might be quite amused by all this, irritatingly enough. He set his jaw and emphatically shook his head at his father, with his skull occasionally interrupted by little jolting hic! hic!s still along its orbit. - No way, not doing that, not never. - and, Nyuh-uh, HIC! he simultaneously signed/said. Then he glued himself firmly to the side of Quixote's leg opposite from the spiky antlerbeast, pretty much as far away as he could get while still keeping his wolf-shaped shield close at hand. I mean the least Quixote could do was protect innocent little Owen when the nonsense the older wolf was spouting was inevitably proven wrong, here. Aaaaany moment now. ...Owen regretted though that his ninjalike stealth in hiding within the black shadow of a big scary black wolf here was rather spoiled by these continuing hiccups. Ugh. So instead of keeping quiet and hiding, Owen experimentally decided to give the thing a threatening little warning growl.

Grrrr-hic!-grrrr-hic!-grrrr!

Owen gave it up in disgust. Not only was his breathy and high-pitched puppy-growl not nearly as menancing a sound as he'd hoped, those blasted hiccups just kept coming, here, and ruined what little menace and effect he might otherwise have generated. He glared at the antler: the thing just sat there so proud and smug, but almost certainly it was secretly laughing the fur right off itself somewhere deep inside. That is, if it had had fur. Or insides. Or whatever. Point was, it was obviously mocking Owen now and the pup didn't like it one bit.

But he still wasn't stupid enough to go up and confront it. Most assuredly not!
Again he looked between Owen and the antler, but he really didn't know what was the solution here.  Owen was kind of being ridiculous about the whole thing, the antler couldn't exactly be told to go away, and he didn't want to necessarily teach his son that it was totally okay to be afraid of everything ever.  But how the hell did he do that?  It wasn't like he was the most well-educated parent on the matter, and since Raven wasn't out here with them... 

Really, it's okay!  I promise you, it's not going to do anything.  What do you want me to do?  It's just gonna sit there unless someone pokes it and makes it move.  Maybe if he shifted the weight of whatever happened with the antler to Owen he'd think about it and figure out how to solve this.  Or not.  Maybe Quixote should bet on "not" because so far he hadn't seen any evidence of Owen being much of a thinker -- coward, sure.  Kids were freaking weird and he had no ideas.
Praahmishahnaw, said Owen, doubtless doing little to revise his father's estimate of his son's intelligence upward one jot, particularly while Owen hampered what little intelligibility he had by attempting to squoosh his face into the big black treetrunk of a leg he was clinging to. Owen peeked out at the spindly white thing as it sat there lurking menacingly watching him, then smooshed his face into the back of his father's leg again. Mmmpph! he said, frustrated—how long would that thing sit there and stare, if they let it?! The blood drained from his face for a moment as another, more dire possibility occurred to the kid: gosh, surely it wouldn't, it couldn't sit there watching until he slowly starved to death, could it...? Owen's tummy gave a small, distressed rumble at the mere thought.

This, at least, was enough to lift his face clear in order to throw his father a desparate, beseeching look. Mayyke i' movvawaaay! he pleaded in his whiniest, most wheedling voice. - Tell it leave, MAKE it leave, right now! -Though how exactly Quixote was supposed to do all that with this puppy-shaped hobble trying to velcro itself to his limb was anyone's guess, really. Owen wasn't sure how likely it really was that this, this antler would do such a downright mean thing—but one thing was for certain-sure: he definitely didn't want to find out the hard way if his best guess was wrong. And this dumb antler had surprised him before, after all.
Nope, apparently that wasn't going to be comforting enough.  Uhhh.  Now what.  How did he make  his son happy without encouraging him to be an enormous coward?  Quixote really wished he had somehow taken child psychology classes but those generally weren't available out in the middle of friggin' nowhere -- let alone enrolling wolves.

Well, he kind of had an idea.  Doubted it would work, though. The only way it's gonna move is if we move it.  So I'll have to move closer to do so, and you're holding on to me, so you have to make a decision.  You have to stay here and I'll go move it away a bit more, or you can come with me and we can do it together.  Seriously, what was he gonna have to do to get Owen to be at least a little brave?  Oof.
Owen's eyes widened as his father spelled out this new dilemma for him. Well shit: neither of those sounded like very good options, at all. One could practically hear the cogwheels squeaking and clinking in his little brain as Owen slowly pulled his unhappy, beseeching, bewildered eyes down from his father's face to rest even more doubtfully upon the antler. It was still just sitting there waiting for him to slowly waste away into a pile of fur and bones, by the way, in case any readers were wondering. Shocking, I know.

Owen's mouth silently worked just a little as he considered, his small pink tongue darting out to give his whiskers a tiny lick of uncertainty. After a few long moments' staring contest with the antler—which Owen lost, big surprise—he said, though still laden with uncertainty: Fiweggohnweshhuchsway go...? Which was about as clear as mud, but hopefully good enough as a second later he reluctantly detached his claws' burrlike hold on his father's leg and moved away a meek half a pace, though still staring suspiciously at the antler all the while. He had to blink at least every once in a while, which was unfortunate since he could have sworn the thing had in fact moved under its own power on that last blink or two...just a little. Yeah, Owen wasn't going anywhere near that again.

He only hoped it wouldn't lure Quixote in and trap him like it had Owen himself...although admittedly considering the adult's bulk the antler probably would have at least a little more of an issue caging Daddy Qui in, or consuming him whole. (Gee.) So Owen even told himself he didn't need to feel bad about letting his father take all the risks, here. - Watch out, not-a-stick-thing, you! He's gonna come get you if you don't MOVE, and FAST! - he signed at the antler in a moment's fitful burst of bravado. Yes, Quixote could handle himself—and then Owen wouldn't have to. This plan was looking better and better by the moment.
Honestly, he'd been hoping Owen would pick the other choice, as unlikely as it was.  He'd have to talk with Raven about this to try and figure out how to solve this problem of their son's somewhat irrational fears.  Unfortunately, it wasn't going to help much over the short term.  But hey, a decision was a decision, and maybe it'd help him feel more secure by making it.  Or something.  Man, he wasn't a child psychologist, he was just making guesses here.

Obviously, the antler didn't move.  So he walked over, picked it up, and headed several paces away, then tossed it into a patch of taller grasses.  Quixote did his best to make sure to show it wasn't a big deal, that he wasn't afraid, that it was something perfectly normal and Owen should feel safe.  He looked back to his son, Is that good enough?  He could move it farther later but honestly didn't feel like it right now. It might be far enough for Owen if he just had a super duper hard time seeing it -- Quixote was obviously much taller so didn't know for sure, but he was pretty sure that it wasn't too easily visible where it landed.
That antler was totally moving. Owen would have sworn to it, as his anxious eyes snapped onto the bony white thing's form once again. It didn't seem very impressed by his signed threats...but maybe it didn't understand ptero, now that he thought about it. Regardless of the lurking antler's recalcitrance Quixote heroically stalked over to toss it away. Owen lowered his head and squinted into the sun-bleached waving grasses after the thing: it was pretty hard to make any of it out but her swore he could still see just a tiny white sliver there, watching and waiting...

Oosha etsfahnuff? he asked dubiously, along with an, - I dunno... maybe safer to move it a little further 'way from the densite, - ...because of course Owen was really just trying to make sure his sisters and mother were kept safely away from the thing. Yeah, sure, that was it. Totally selfless. See, Owen could be just as heroic and saving-of-others as Quixote! His skinny little tawny-furred chest puffed itself out a little at the thought. - I think it could still sneak up on unknowing wolves if it stays there in that grass, - he added for good measure. After all, didn't sneaky creatures who went out hunting sometimes hide in the tall grass deliberately before they pounced? Of course they did. Raven had warned them of such things. In fact... Owen tilted his head way back and squinted suspiciously up at his father for a moment before his young eyes were inexorably drawn back to where he thought he had last glimpsed that sneaky antler. Surely Quixote wasn't trying to help the antler sneakily conceal itself for its final ambush, now, was he...? Owen found himself just a wee bit mistrusting of this...especially since Daddy was the one who'd brought the antler within reach of pouncing on innocent Owens in the first place, after all. Owen watched closely to make sure Qui put the thing sufficiently far away and totally out of sight, and didn't just shuffle it sideways or something to where it could still reach puppies pretty easily in a single bound.
Okay, humoring the kids was one thing, but even he had limits.  He was afraid that if he kept it up, the poor kid just might end up thinking that everything was terrifying and make it harder for him to deal with stuff as an adult.  Or something.  Honestly he wasn't sure, but that sounded about right?  He didn't take a class in child psychology.

Owen, it can't move without someone actually moving it.  You were touching it when it fell on you, remember?  And did it move again once nobody was touching it?  No.  Please, could this freaking work for once?  Come on, kid... If you don't want to play with it, it'll stay over there.  It's not gonna pounce anyone.  But if you change your mind, I'm sure you and your sisters could team up and find it.  Maybe with numbers he'd feel more brave.  If they really didn't touch it, it almost might be hilarious to hide it and then present it to Owen when he was larger.  Be all "See, this was the most terrifying thing in you life at one point" since it's not like wolves had photo albums to embarrass children with.  Besides, I'm here.  I saved you from it before, right?  Did he have to be as irrational to make some sense to his son?
You were touching it when it fell on you, remember? Owen squinched up his little face and tried to remember this for certain-sure. He supposed it was possible... Maybe the antler-thing really did need to vampirically touch a wolf and suck out some of their vital lifeforce in order to animate its own cold white bones. Why he should want to run over and play with that thing, though, or test this hypothesis out, was beyond him. Owen wasn't gonna touh that antler with the proverbial ten-foot-pole.

And he didn't really want to tell his sisters about it, either. In one scenario, they might end up as the antler's next victims, after all. And in another scenario they might just use it as an excuse to point and laugh at him. None of them seemed to take his little conspiracy theories nearly as seriously as they should... and horror of horrors, one of them might find it so laughable that they might deliberately put themself in the antlercreature's power just to try and prove him wrong! Owen definitely didn't want that on his young conscience. That was the kind of thing that could scar a puppy for life. Far better to play it safe that way, right? Right.

He did look up at his father with a modicum of trust at last, however, as Qui pointed out that he was right here and ready to save his son from the Antler of Doom once more if it should prove necessary. His father had chased the thing off for now, at least, it was true—and contrary to his other fears the thing hadn't come pouncing right back. Owen wagged his tail and scooted his butt closer, glomming onto his father's leg afresh, on the far side from the terrible antlercreature (just in case). Ihsaymeh irrawubrrmwuph, he said, oh-so-helpfully, and then tucked his head gratefully against Qui's foreleg. Okay, so maybe the babbling pseudowords were clear as mud, but the intent behind them was more crystalline— - Yes you did save, thank you. -  Next maybe his father could be hired out to chase monsters from under the bed before puppies curled up for the night, or ghosts from the den walls or something, ey? In any case, Owen had obviously had enough, and didn't want to hang around out here just in case the vampire antler suddenly awoke and went for the jugular. He started to tug and poke at his father, trying to pull his protector along with him in the direction of the dark, safe den.  - Home! -  Quick, before any nuisancy sisters came around. Or before the antler summoned some of its own pack and friends, if antlers had such things—Owen shuddered to even think about the potential consequences of that!
Oh god did he finally do something right in Owen-land?!  Maybe???  Possibly??!  Hopefully.  Let's go with hopefully.  But Owen did seem to be a less fearful than before at least.  They'd have to try the whole introducing new toys thing again at some better date.  Maybe when they were a bit bigger.  Or with Raven making sure they were cooperative.

Anyway, since Owen was being thankful, Qui reached down to nuzzle the top of the boy's head.  But the kid wasn't exactly content to hang out here in the wide world for now.  Okay, okay.  Go on.  He could always hope that Owen would go take a nap and awaken with more of a spine when it came to new and interesting things, however unlikely it was.  Qui would follow Owen into the den.  Heck, he'd be up for a nap too.  The quiet moments were sometimes the best, but maybe that was just in comparison to crazy ones like this.