Shy Deer Steppes choose your future

There was smoke in the air! He could smell it really well now. There was no telling exactly where it came from but it was a sure sign of humans, and that alone was cause for celebration. If only he could track them down, Cormag was sure they'd take him back to Homestead; even though all that waited for him there was a stern talking-to and maybe a bit of hide-tanning by his Pa.

That would be endurable, even preferable, to the agony he'd experienced with the ending of summer. The boy vacillated between hunger, exhaustion, and some kind of manic state brought on by both; frolicking in fits across the steppe, or stopping to mourn his lack of water and the awful heat.

That smoke, though — if he could trace its origin, he could surely find his way! As the need to be seen filled his spirit, the boy canted his head up and gave a shout, a squeal, a yapping howl; so many noises to fill the dusty place, certain someone would hear him!

she stepped beyond akashingo.

the hurt in her heart could not be soothed or tamed. she need to compose herself before she did anything else. some part of her considered a further trip.

to step away to mereo, to see the vale by herself.

yet she was still royal. she still had things to attend to even in her adrift state. such as the squealing, yapping howl that reached her ears. truthfully, a mazoi or fellahin could attend this. it was well below her concern.

only she latched onto the distraction with ease. for a moment she thought it was the sanpin, but they had been last seen cleaning along the halls. this one did, however, still look awfully familiar to the sanpin.

her voice was cold, hazed some by the smoke that touched at her lungs.

why are you making such a racket, beast?

the most she had spoke the last two days.

Okay, so someone did, but it was someone running on four legs and not two. They looked more like the vested dogs than the farmhands such as himself or his brothers; but, it was a person either way!

They spoke to him with a discernable disdain but Cormag was thrilled to bits regardless, and refused to let their attitude sway him.

Ah! Is th' smoke fae yer ferm? Yer walkers nea? They looked well-kept enough to be minded by someone, nary a hair out of place and dirty only on the paws, likely from the travel to the steppe.

The boy looked around her and then towards the path she had come climbing along, looking for plumes along the horizon that might tell of campfires, or such things.

ferm?

walkers?

she might have compared him to neb gucci, if she was not so flabbergasted by what he had asked her. she blinked in her dazed sense of confusion.

what?

it was all she could manage to get out for now. trying to figure out if walker was maybe like a mazoi.

She gawked at him with those pretty, cold eyes. Not an ounce of understanding there so, not out for a daily walk with her people; he got a closer look at her neck and seeing no collar, could not fathom how else she could be here.

Unless... Och, ye'v slipped yer fence, juist lik' me!

Couldn't have been far, given the smoke.

They ca' me Cormag, whit shuid ah caw ye?

cormag.

the name was gnarled like his accent. misplaced in her mouth and mind. the closest she could place this to was gucci. perhaps they were birds of a feather.

weird canines, weirder lives.

princess nekubi makono. her head tilted up some with her title, spine straightening.

there is a man like you in my home. do you think he'd be of any help?

although she was not in the business of making deals with nothing in return.

When you have too many characters and too much irl stress to remember your tiny puppy dog friend -- legit forgot he was mine?? im sorry cormag ilu.

A name rolled off her tongue, crisp and clear and with all the bearing of someone far above him in station; not that Cormag had ever considered the validity of any monarch before.

Yet this creature who was but a girl, who looked so free and so well-tended all at once, brought to mind a lifestyle he was not yet ready to give up. Cormag was thrilled to be met with such an offer.

A jimmy lik' me? ah wid be obliged! Weel met! if thare is anythin' ah cuid offer ye - a song in yer name, mibbie? He was more animated now, almost dancing on the spot, ah swear ah hae a better singin' voice than you'd expect!

This was, and would always be, a very unfortunate lie.

you have found yourself in good company. i cherish music.

even more so when acts were done in her honor!

follow me while you sing your song. the walk will not be long that way.

she turned her back to the odd creature, prepared for him to follow. prepared to hear whatever musical inspiration struck him from her own name.

I fully blame my medicine for this rendition of "Fat Bottom Girls."

He scampered to follow, glad for the company. Then she asked for a song! And of course he would oblige.

Oi, this be a song fram me own hart, miss! It helped his keepers were fans of certain classic rock records, as Cormag could recite such things well as a result:

Ah wis juist a skinny-malinky lad
never knew boggin' fae bad,
but ah knew loue afore ah left mah nursery!

Left alone wi' muckle pie-eater fanny
she wis sic a naughty nanny -
hey muckle wifie, ye made a naughty wee jimmy oot o' me!

A've bin singing wi' mah band,
across th' cooncil juice, o'er th' land!

I've seen ilka blue clocked floozy oan th' way
but thair beauty 'n' thair style
went kind o' smooth efter a while,

take me tae thaim naughty lassies ilka time!

oh, wilnae ye tak' me hame tonight!

oh, doon beside yer rid fire light!

oh, 'n' ye gie it a' ye got fat-bottomed girls ye mak' th' rocking world gang round,

fat-bottomed girls ye mak' th' rocking world gang round!

A few times he belted with the full force of his little lungs, other times Cormag held notes too long or let the tremble of the sound vibrato too long; in the end he was out of breath but pleased with himself.

That, dear lassy, wis a rendition fit fur a queen!