Hushed Willows who speaks latin?

hellloooo 

The Crook— as Stark had called it— was not like something she was used to. Her own home was generally placed away from others for privacy— not directly beside a handful of strangers. Perhaps that was his thing... make strangers become friends by forcing interaction. They all sleep here, so eventually they were all bound to run into one another. 

She laid half-in half-out of her den, her cream paws crossed in a lady-like manner and her ears pricked. It was dark out, and a few wolves had already made their way back. She sought no one out, but waited patiently for someone to come to her. Though she did enjoy her privacy, meeting the rest of the pack was probably a good thing.

Tambourine spent some quality time with the Hump Stump today, though he was forced to abort mission abruptly when he got a splinter in the pink skin right alongside his family jewels. He was not the crybaby type, though he walked tenderly and whimpered every so often as he made his way back toward The Crook. The boy had no shame and fully intended to ask the first wolf he came across to help take care of his wound.

It didn't matter that she was a perfect stranger. The youth plodded up to the pretty redhead, oblivious to the unfriendly look on her face, and said, "I got an ouchie, can you help me fix it?" and promptly hiked a leg into the air, exposing himself and his splinter to the Theta.

The first wolf to take any true notice of her was a boy, and though she didn't shoo him off she had sort of wished an adult would've come to talk to her. Kids were fine, but they weren't her thing. Almost immediately, he hikes up his leg and exposes his balls to her— unsurprisingly, this came as a shock. Her ears pricked and her head leaned back some. Using a paw she pushes his hindleg back to the ground— where it belonged— and stared plainly at him.

"Find yourself a healer, kid," she tells him, waiting for the long-legged, future perv to get a move on. She could hardly imagine where he got the splinter from.

She pressed a paw against his uplifted leg, forcing him to set it down. He looked at her questioningly, unfazed by her stare. She told Tambourine to go find a healer. His head cocked as he considered that. He was still a little too young and oblivious to know much about trades, though he knew what "heal" meant and that's definitely what he wanted his sore junk to do!

Thus he breathlessly wondered, "Where?"

"I don't know," Natasha says bluntly. In an effort to scurry the kid away from her quicker, she tries a nicer tone. "Why don't you ask Stark?" she offers, tail sweeping against the earth beneath her. This child was strange— but maybe all of them were, she'd just never really spoken to them that often. They were like tiny, oblivious adults, and she had no time to deal with anyone who was oblivious— it was too much explaining and there was never a moment that could be wasted. 

Then again, all she'd been doing for the past 30 minutes was wasting time... oh well. 

She didn't know but suggested he ask Stark. Tambourine's eyes brightened at the mention of his Alpha slash father figure. He looked around the inside of The Crook but didn't seem him. He was probably busy. The kid licked his lips, brow furrowing ever so slightly, before he looked back to the she-wolf and suddenly remembered his manners.

"I'm Tam!" he declared enthusiastically, gray tail wagging. "Who're you? Are you new?" Even as he asked this rather obvious question, he moved his snout toward her hindquarters with the intent of taking a big whiff of her butt to say a proper "hello."

"Yes," Natasha said lowly, giving the boy a light growl. Get away from my ass, it seemed to imply— not that the boy would likely understand any implications. "We can make verbal acquaintances," she says, shifting in her spot so her hindquarters were away from his nosey-self. "I'm Natasha," she adds. It was not a pleasure to meet him, really, so she didn't tell him that either. 

In an effort to attempt to be kind— he was just a kid, after all— she tried to sympathize with whatever wound he'd gotten. "How'd you hurt yourself, Tam?" she asks.

The growl took him by surprise. Tambourine looked up, eyes guileless, and backed off a step. She gave her name and then asked him a question. The boy blinked, still a little uncertain, but soon began smiling again. Maybe she was just sensitive about her her butt or something.

"I was wooing a stump," he replied blithely. "It feels good. You wanna try it?" he asked, pivoting halfway as if ready to lead her away to the Hump Stump. He didn't mind sharing!

She stares almost blindly at the boy for a second, repeating what he'd said to herself. "You were fucking a stump," she mutters bluntly under her breath. Even though she's sure that he doesn't know what that means, she moves on, maybe he'll pick up on it. "Don't woo things," she scolds him. "That's how you get yourself in trouble," she adds— his splinter was a perfect example of that. Pausing and squinting at him, she lets out a heavy breath. "No, thanks, I don't want to try," she says with a low tone. 

"Fucking?" he repeated shamelessly. He'd never heard that word and didn't know what it meant. Before he could ask, Natasha spoke to him in a sharp, scolding tone. The boy's ears wilted. What did she mean by that? Oh... As it dawned on him, Tambourine glanced down between his own legs. She was probably right, though this was the first time it had happened and he'd been spending a lot of quality time with that stump...

Natasha didn't want to try and though Tambourine's first instinct was to try to convince her—it was fun! it felt amazing! he didn't want her to miss out!—the pup sensed that he wasn't wanted here. That knowledge sat in the pit of his stomach like a cold, hard rock. He didn't think he'd done anything wrong. Maybe Natasha was just having a bad day.

"OK, well... bye!" he said spiritedly if a little uncertainly. Despite his words, Tambourine didn't take off right away. Instead, he bit his still healing lip and waited in case he'd misread the situation and Natasha insisted he stick around.

For Christ's sake— it was frowned upon to be a bitch to kids, wasn't it? She let out a soft sigh, shaking her head. "Lay down," she says, her voice not so cold this time. "I'll pull out your splinter." The auburn woman sits up where she lays, ducking her head slightly. She motions with her nose to get a move on, tail sweeping towards her feet in a catlike motion. 

"It'll hurt," she adds, raising an eyebrow.

Her instruction gave him pause, though only for a second. Relieved that she apparently didn't want him to go, he hastily obeyed, sloppily tossing himself onto the ground at her feet. Tambourine rolled onto her back, tail wriggling against the ground, exposing himself once more. She was going to fix him! His face froze when she reminded him it would hurt.

"It already hurts," he said brightly, then went very still and squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself.

sorry! late reply

With a glare at the ceiling(though his comment caused her a short smile to momentarily break her annoyance), Natasha bent down and observed for a few heartbeats before swiftly pinching it between her teeth and yanking it out. She did her best not to linger, and being the woman she was her aim was quite accurate. She spit the splinter to the side and stared, tail flicking once. "Alright, Tam," she says plainly, lips pursing.

No worries. :)

Natasha tended to his wound with quick expertise. Tambourine did wince at the brief sting, though he sat up with a look of utmost relief on his face once it was over. He bent in half to inspect the reddened skin, giving it a few licks before straightening up again and peering at his helper.

"Thanks, Natasha!" Tambourine said brightly. For lack of anything better to say—especially considering she wasn't outright amenable to his presence—he added, "I'll tell Stark you helped! Maybe you should be a healer!"

The redhead smiled, but almost sarcastically. She'd have laughed right in his face had she actually thought Stark would listen to the child, but something told her that pulling out a splinter was not worthy of a healers title. Besides, she'd never truly been interested in healing before.

"Sure, Tam," she replied, tilting her head. "Now scram-- don't woo anymore stumps, kid," she added, somewhat playfully and in no way harshly. She settled herself back down to her stomach, nosing him off.

She didn't seem particularly enthused about it. In the next breath, Natasha told him to get lost. But she said it sort of playfully before nudging him away and flopping to the ground. Tambourine gave her a crooked smile, then did as he was told. Well, he scrammed. Whether or not he intended to pay any heed to her other advice was debatable.