"Dada," Osprey Jr. said suddenly, "what is?" She motioned toward a small creature slithering through the grass. Even as the query slipped off her tongue (in the slightly nonsensical manner of all toddlers), she reached out a small black paw toward it. Before her little toes could make contact, Junior felt pressure as someone forcefully scruffed her, yanking her a few feet away from the snake even as it disappeared into the grass.
"That's a snake, Junior," Peregrine said upon releasing her, ignoring her glare of reproof. "Just a garter," he mused as his eyes followed its legless body until it wound out of sight. "Snakes are dangerous," he told his daughter. "You should never touch one. It can bite. Much ouch. Do you understand?" And though she was still a little miffed at the way he'd just manhandled her, the pup nodded and gave an offhanded, "Ya."
At that very moment, father and daughter both caught the sound of footfalls approaching the den site. Osprey Jr. looked to her father, who began to move toward the sound, then bounded after him like his shadow.
It wasn’t overcast but there were enough masses of giant white, fluffy clouds that it might as well have been. Though Grimlock hadn’t voiced it to anyone — not that the pre-teen really had anyone to voice his annoyance to granted — he was beginning to wonder if the sun ever shown in these ‘Teekon Wilds’. So far, he hadn’t seen much of it. He wasn’t some reclusive vampire that thrived in days like this he liked the sun, liked to feel how his silken fur absorbed it as he laid in it’s beams. Though he was built to endure winter (had been born it, really) he, so far, much preferred summer to it. He finished off the rabbit he had caught for a quick snack and cleaning his muzzle by rubbing it in the grass beneath his paw, swiping a paw across it as an itch came over his nose, smearing dirt across it in the process. He picked through the bones then, trying to find one that wouldn’t be too large or too small (aka. a choking hazard) because he intended to make a gift out of it. Picking one that he thought was well equipped to being the perfect puppy size he plucked the bone off of the skeleton and padded over to the nearest puddle, dipping his muzzle — bone grasped in it and all — into the water to rinse it off.
With a dripping chin he re-positioned the bone, as gently as Grimlock could manage, he padded off to the direction of Peregrine and Hawkeye’s den was in. It wasn’t that far from his own, per Peregrine’s orders and was relatively easy to find if not for the trails of scents that came and went …and the distinctive scent of puppy. They smelled like milk and baby fur, rich earth, and if Grimlock was being honest sometimes poo. Their outrageous level of adorableness totally made up for it, though. He could hear Peregrine speaking — presumably to one of their four kiddos as he approached and he saw them soon, Peregrine first because he was the bigger, and because of this more eye catching of the duo and then his eyes, flitting as they constantly did between blue and green, went to Osprey Junior. She looked like a miniature Peregrine and for a bizarre minute the boy let out soft laugh at the absurdity of this thought. “Sup, Sarg? And Sarg's mini-me,” He greeted them, words muffled a bit before he set the bone down at his paws. “I brought this for you, Junior,” He spoke to her then, nudging it towards her with his nose before he glimpsed up at Peregrine sheepishly. “I came to play, or relieve you, or both.” And in a dramatic fashion he plopped down to the ground, his head between his paws as he stared at Osprey Jr. “You’re so teeny tiny, girly.” He observed and then smiled at her.
When Grimlock presented her with the bone, she snatched it from him and bounded a few feet away so he couldn't get it back. "MINE," she told both him and Peregrine, complementing this declaration of ownership by lashing her tail. "NO," she added when her cousin (not that she knew that's what he was) referred to her as teeny tiny. She didn't like that much.
While Osprey busied herself with the bone, Peregrine laughed quietly at Grimlock's offer. "Thanks, Grim, but you don't want to be left alone with this monster or the others just yet; you gotta work up to that. She seems to like the gift," he added approvingly, glancing Junior's way even as the young pup's sharp teeth split the bone in half with a loud crack!
“Well HEY to you too, lil punk,” Grimlock scolded her playfully on her obnoxiously loud greeting. “Yeah, that’s you girly. Junior,” He repeated it nice and slow sounding it out even though he expected her pronunciation to be wacky. His had been so off key it had been hilarious to hear him speak; only it hadn’t been funny to Grimlock who was trying to hold what he had thought was a sophisticated conversation only to grow frustrated as the laughing commenced and sickly cooing. “You’re Junior and I’m Grim,” It was forbidding nickname, admittedly, and not for the first time the raptor pre-teen wondered what kind of hallucinations his parents had been on when they had named him. They could have named him Raptor Junior and then he would have matched the Osprey Junior before him. But no, they named him Grimlock — though he answered to pretty much any variation of it, Grim, Lock or his personal favorite: Raptor (but no one ever called him that to his ultimate dismay).
Junior was quick to snatch the bone from him, and he recoiled his muzzle quickly from her at her eagerness. “Ow, ow, ow,” He feigned to her, wondering if she would take the bait of keep chomping up away at her newest chew toy. “Your teeth hurt Junior,” He winked up at Peregrine and turned his attention to the puppy. “Kiss my nose and make it feel better, Junior?” He pleaded with her in a soft tone, glimpsing at her through his long lashes. Of course, no one could muster the puppy eyes like she, as an actual puppy could, but Grimlock liked to toot his own horn and say that he did a decent job of them. It became apparent rather quickly with his use of ‘teeny tiny’ that she did not agree with him. “Ok, ok, you’re a teeny big girly, like a dragon.” He corrected with a silly grin aimed at the girl who seemed rather contented with his gift.
“Hmm, you’re probably right Sarg. You would come home to find me doing their bidding, or at least Junior’s.” He joked and barked a laugh. “Good. I wasn’t really sure what to bring I just kind of went with the fact that most girls in our family aren’t all that …girlish. And I don’t know bones are awesome to work on jaw strength and stuff.” It was satisfying for the Raptor, to know that intuition had been correct.
"Yeah, I may have three girls but I can't imagine any of them will be very girly, least of all Junior," Peregrine said, emphasizing the name, which was traditionally reserved for sons. To his daughter, he added, "You're not gonna share that with us? That's not very nice of you." He gave her a disapproving look, yet smiled in the next beat, unable to hold the pup's selfishness against her. At her age, it was more amusing than anything anyway.
"NO," Osprey Jr. repeated, "MINE." She hovered defensively over the bits and pieces of bone. "STAY 'WAY." She chewed for a few seconds, then added an enthusiastic, "YUMS!"
A few minutes passed, during which Peregrine made conversation with Grimlock, when Osprey finally tired of chewing on the bones' remains. She promptly dug a shallow hole where she stood, kicked the remaining pieces inside it, then pushed dirt and grass back over it and then squatted to urinate to mark the spot as hers. Done with this, she bounced toward Grimock.
"WHAT IS?" Osprey Jr. asked, glancing at her father.
"He's a who, not a what," the Alpha male replied, not expecting Osprey to understand. "His name's Grimlock. You met him the other day. Do you remember?"
"GWIM-WOCK?" Osprey repeated, her enunciation breaking the name into two distinct syllables. Ignoring the question, she gazed up at her cousin now, tail wagging back and forth, causing her rear end to bob, and shouted, "PWAY?!"
Grimlock’s attention wandered from Junior as Peregrine spoke, temporarily finding his uncle a bit more interesting than the child who was, as it seemed, happily chewing away on her gift of which he had a feeling might be nothing more than splinters at the day’s end. “Three girls and one boy, right?” Grimlock asked chewing on the inside of his cheek in thought for a few seconds as he shifted his tail close to his left hip. “Ugh, the little dude’s gonna be overruled like I was,” Grimlock cringed at the thought of how girls tended to stick together — at the very least Gale and Whimsy had been practically joined at the hip and always overruled Grimlock because they had always sided together against him and then the raptor was stuck doing their icky girl adventures that mostly revolved around flower picking and weaving through his fur. To make him pretty. “That’s it!” Grimlock exclaimed, with more zeal than was necessary for situation, “I am taking the little dude out and we’re doing boy stuff. Like mud monsters, and farting and y’know we‘ll build a fort or something. I was stuck with the twins all the time,” Grimlock made it sound like it was a death sentence — it had been to his integrity and manliness. “I don’t even think they’re related to me. I think they’re aliens because they were the epitome of girly-girls.” Yep, that was it. They were aliens. “Not that if the girls don’t mind getting dirty I won’t take them too,” He amended quickly because he didn’t want any of the kiddos to feel left out by giving only one of them his attention; though this far Junior was the first to receive it in something of a one on one fashion.
At Peregrine’s mention of sharing Junior had let it be known, once more, that the bone was hers and that she had no intention of sharing; and then warned the two males to stay away, followed by a declaration that she thought it was delicious. As it was, Grimlock was too amused by Junior who was cuter than a button (albeit a button that could talk back) to take any sort of offense to her unwillingness to share her spoils, even though Grimlock had brought it specifically for her.
Indecisive colored irises flickered back to the girl once she had hid her spoils and marked it and bounced towards him asking him what he was. Peregrine corrected her as Grimlock laughed softly at her, deciding that she had managed to wrap him around her little paw way too fast (that was a deadly skill). “Yep,” He told her with a nod. “Good job, girly,” He complimented her. It wasn’t a perfect pronunciation but he didn’t expect anything near perfect, she was probably just learning to speak bigger words. “Always,” He conceded to her inquiry of playing, barely resisting the urge to aww at her when she stuck her little butt in the air. “What do you want to play?” Grimlock asked her in a ‘ladies first’ manner.
Funnily enough, when Grimlock referred to her as girly again a moment later, Osprey's hackles rippled indignantly and she responded with a brusque, "NO. NO GIRL." At her age, she had only the most rudimentary understanding of sex and gender but, somehow, she'd already concluded that she was a boy—or at least wanted to be a boy. Perhaps it was because she was particularly close to her father, who was a boy (technically speaking).
In any case, she forgave him quickly, moving onto other things, namely playtime. "TAGYOUIT!" she screamed so quickly that the words, usually individually emphasized by Osprey's young tongue, came out in a blended slurry. Punctuating them with a shrieking laugh, she turned and began to run, her dark ears tucking against her skull and her tail dipping between her legs as if to make her figure more aerodynamic.
“Ha,” Grimlock found it amusing, thinking of himself as any sort of role model. He had always felt like he did the Redleaf line more justice than the DiSarinno one, given that he sort of took after the ‘Mama Matriarch’ (as he liked to think of the now deceased March Owl) personality wise; at least that was what Grimlock had always fancied. Admittedly, he couldn’t claim to know either Aether or March Owl very well, knowing them mostly from the stories he heard his father and other family members tell. “Well I’ll try. I don’t think I’m the best role model you want for your kids though.” Grimlock admitted in a rare form of modesty, biting on his bottom lip sheepishly for a few moments before he was broken out of it when Junior bristled at him and, in a loud fashion that his ears was beginning to adjust to Grimlock was sure until she opened her mouth and proved him that he was wrong in that assumption, more or less let the raptor know that she wasn’t a girl. For a moment, Grimlock gave Junior a perplexed look and squinted at her, but no, she was obviously a girl. If she wasn’t she’d have the manly thing and Peregrine wouldn’t have been using ‘she’. So, the only other assumption the raptor could make was that she didn’t like him calling her ‘girly-girl’; but he wasn’t going to call her “lil’ dude”, either. Until he found some endearment that was safe to call her he supposed it would be safer just to call her “junior” and be done with it.
Her scream left Grimlock blinking rapidly at her trying to make sense of her run-on of words, for a moment watching her shriek a laugh and zip off like a mini Flash. He looked up at Peregrine for help but then glimpsed back at Junior finally having made sense of it on his own. “Hey, you’re supposed to tag me, silly,” He called after her but rose to his paws, trying to decide how he was going to let her win at the game because in reality he could probably catch her pretty quickly given how much bigger than her he was. “Man you didn’t even warn me, I’m never going to catch you.” He groaned and leapt after her little form keeping a brisk pace so he didn’t lose her and when he was close enough attempted to tap her little butt with his paw in the fashion of ‘tag’.
Oblivious to her father's musings, Osprey fled from the oncoming Grimlock, glancing over her shoulder only to give a piercing scream when she saw him gaining on her. She ducked her hindquarters even lower, as if her butt itself was trying to evade her cousin's tap. All the same, she felt the gentle swat of his paw against her bottom and she dug her paws into the earth and whirled. She'd learned the rules a bit better since her bungled game with Amelie and she now happily chased after Grimlock with all the bloodthirsty ferociousness she could muster.
Junior’s shrieks were loud and piercing and despite her protests rather girly to the raptor that left his ears ringing, unused to the volume they held; though truthfully he did not think he’d ever get used to her loud shrieks. Though the enunciated the fun she was having they left him with impression that some monster out of a horror story was coming for them. “Heh,” Grimlock panted, grinning like a fool as his paw made a light tap on Junior’s hindquarters in the motion of ‘tagging’ her.
Grimlock paused to suck in a deep breath as she reeled around and he leapt to the slide, almost clumsily attempting to avoid her. He had glimpsed at her face, saw the fierce determination there to catch him and tag him back. He was almost intimidated by it as he attempted to get his footing, slipped in a mud puddle (thanks puberty, what a real pal) and collapsed to the ground with a hard grunt, blowing the breath out of his previous puffed out cheeks knowing that he was never even going to get back his footing before she could reach him.
Osprey Jr. didn't need her father's encouragement, though it added another layer of ferocity to her approach. As if she were a black lioness and her cousin was a wounded wildebeest, she sprang at him, seeking purchase on the slick, mucky ground even as her jaws lowered toward his throat. Since she was still very much a baby, she didn't realize her own strength and bit at Grimlock's throat without exercising any kind of restraint. Luckily, her age also meant her bite was not as wicked as it would one day become.
Having spotted the danger, even if it wasn't life-threatening, the Alpha male intervened and pushed Junior away from Grim before she could mangle the fur and flesh around his neck. "Don't play so rough," he warned her, his voice lacking the necessary firmness, as he was still stupidly proud of his daughter's hunting abilities. He could hardly contain his excitement, nor wait for her to grow up just a little so she could become his formal apprentice.
Although being shoved aside aggravated the pup, as did the feeble warning, her ears only slipped backward for a second before perking again at the expression on Peregrine's face. She should see the pride shining though and a wolfish grin split her little maw, a few pink streaks on her small fangs betraying the fact that Peregrine hadn't intervened in time to totally prevent some broken skin on Grimlock's behalf.
Not only did Grimlock have to deal with the humiliation of losing his traction and unable to steady himself and splat in the mud, Peregrine made it measurably worse by encouraging Junior — who did not seem to need much of it as it was — to attack the raptor while he was down. A ‘gee thanks’ glare what shot at his uncle half heartedly but sarcastic all the same as the child wheeled around and seemed to put all her momentum into her little body as she raced to where Grimlock had fallen, trying to desperately push himself up only to fall into the mud again with a low curse. Junior was on him, then, before he could even think to react further, her teeth at his throat. There was a pause of a beat in Grimlock’s shock that he didn’t even realize she was literally biting at his throat. “Hey, hey, hey!” The words were blurting out of his mouth, reprimanding. Her hunting instincts were strong and that was great but not when it was his own throat she was chomping down on. He wasn’t prey and she needed to be able to distinguish the difference.
As the prospect Caretaker he assumed (even if it was wrongly so at that point the raptor really didn’t care) that he was in the ok to reprimand her for going for his throat. It was a kill target and this was just a game, besides, Grimlock sure as hell didn’t want to have to explain to the parents why one of the other kiddos was dead because Junior launched at their throats and did real damage. Peregrine had pulled her back, thankfully before Grimlock would have been forced too and he rose to his paws, his whole underside and parts of his face streaked with mud, his throat was itchy where she had broken skin small little trickles of blood mixing with the earthen substance that almost coated him.
“Jesus Junior,” His brow was furrowed and while he was only a little mad it was fading because she was damned cute but he also didn’t think that was a behavior Peregrine should be encouraging especially when it was on a pack mate. After all, it wasn’t generally acceptable to kill during play — or maybe that was just Grimlock’s thoughts but what did he know. “I’m not prey, ok? And for the record, I like my throat unmangled, thanks.” He took a deep breath and let it out, staring at the pair of them kind of concerned that Peregrine didn’t really seemed all that bothered by it. He plopped down on his haunches to scratch behind his ear, spraying it with mud too. “I think we should take her hunting so she can tell the difference between prey and not-prey.” The teen grumbled as a suggestion but otherwise had all but brushed the incident off. Now, he knew to keep his throat protected from her the next time. Apparently, Caretaking was a lot of trial and error.
Peregrine was concerned, especially when he saw the blood on his daughter's teeth. "You okay, Grim?" he asked the boy, the proud look quickly fading from his face and his swarthy brow furrowing. "Let me have a look at your throat." He could see tiny little dimples in the side of the juvenile's neck, with only minor bleeding. "I don't think we'll need professional help but if the bite marks start to hurt, itch or burn, let me know so I can call on our Healer."
"That's not a half bad idea, Grim," Peregrine said in reply to the youngster's suggestion, turning his attention back to Osprey. "Osprey, you hurt him. It's not okay to hurt pack mates. You need to control yourself; you're stronger than you realize. When you play, don't go for the throat. Do you understand me?" He spoke in a firm, even voice, looking Junior in the eye.
The pup wilted beneath that stony, unwavering gaze, sinking to the ground and eventually rolling onto her side, then her back. She revealed a pale pink belly and her trademark four snow white patches, one beneath each leg. Her tail thumped weakly, as if begging for forgiveness, as her eyes flicked between her father's hovering face and Grimlock standing nearby. "Sahhry," she murmured quietly.
As soon as Peregrine broke eye contact, she rolled over and hopped to her feet. "Pway?!" she shouted, prancing closer to Grimlock. Her nose thrust against the side of his neck. "No pway wuff," she promised with a mischievous twinkle in her blue eyes.
It was only that after Grimlock’s heart beat began to gradually slow back to a less frantic, adrenaline laced pulse that he shook it off as what it was: an accident. There had been a time when he had been just like Junior — might have even still been like Junior, unaware of the truth strength of his body — and to hold against it her with a personal vendetta would have been utterly stupid. Peregrine addressed him with concern of which relieved the raptor a good bit. “I’m good,” His pulse was still a little loud in his ears, as he adrenaline began to fade out of his blood stream. In hindsight he was just really glad he hadn’t snarled or worse yet attacked her in self defense; that the stupor of his shock had been too great for any sort of life preserving instincts had kicked in (not that he thought that his life had been in severe danger). The situation could have been a hell of a lot worse if he would have retaliated because while he was half sure she couldn’t do life threatening damage to him (yet) he could have certainly done significant damage to her. “Nah, it’s nothin’ really,” Grimlock attempted to brush off his uncle trying to act like the touch guy though he had been feverishly concerned about it in the aftermath of her rough housing.
Grimlock watched as Junior, under Peregrine’s scolding and sternness flopped to her side, and then exposed her belly, muttering an apology. “It’s ok Junior, I’m not mad,” He assured her, not wanting her to think that he held it against her or anything, or that it would stop him from playing with her or ‘sitting her anything like that. Grimlock didn’t have the vendetta it took to hold grudges. He pretended too but he didn’t really; and it wasn’t like he was going to pretend to hold a grudge over Junior. She was just a little girl. “You just have to learn to be careful and that you only go for the throat if you’re hunting. Not playing.” He finished, offering Peregrine a toothy grin, a little late, for the semi-praise for the idea to take Junior hunting where she could burn out some of her …ferociousness. Or whatever it was she had. She rebounded with impressive timing prancing over to him and touching her nose against his neck. “’Course I want to play,” He feigned a mock hurt voice as if the thought that he didn’t want to play insulted him. “What’s next?” He asked her wondering if she was working off some sort of agenda for her favorite games or just wanted to play whatever popped into her head at the time.
After a moment, an idea came to young Osprey. "Fesh?" she proposed inquisitively, head cocking. "Gwim fwow stick, Jun-yaw fesh!" she elaborated, her tail wagging now as her excitement grew.
Junior seemed to have grasped what Grimlock and Peregrine had both told her, though Grimlock was a little suspicious of the impish glint in her eyes. The sheer mischievousness of it made the raptor suspicious all the same but he let it go with a roll of his shoulders, splashed with mud — there was no doubt he would need a serious bath after this. Junior seemed to be giving his question some thought, of which clued Grimlock into an answer for his previous, absentminded mental question: she was just going with what sounded good. When the child finally responded with what she wanted to play next, Grimlock visibly hesitated unable to determine was ‘fesh’ was thinking it was some kind of butchering of ‘fish’ and then wondered how one played ‘fish’ and what kind of game it was. A moment later she explained, whether because she noticed his trepidation or simply because she thought she needed too (it didn’t matter to Grimlock who was relieved that he did, in fact, know which game she gave mention to) it sunk into the raptor’s mind what ‘fesh’ meant.
Junior was saying fetch.
“Alright,” The raptor drew glimpsing around him for a stick — something that was small enough for her to carry but that was sturdy enough that it wouldn’t snap beneath her jaws from biting too hard on it (which he figured she had a tendency to do from experience) and wouldn’t break when he threw it and it hit the ground. When he found one he drew it gently in his muzzle, testing for a moment, “Ready?” He asked Junior, the word muffled around the obstruction in his mouth before he flung his head and the stick went sailing through the air to land a little bit away for her to go after and bring back to him.
With a snap of his neck, he flung it. Junior spun and darted after it, diving on top of it when she reached it. The stick snapped beneath her weight, so Osprey went after the bigger half. She snatched it so roughly that it stabbed the roof of her mouth, causing her eyes to water. Never one to be a baby about such things, she threw back her head and cantered back to Grimlock, dropping the drool- and blood-covered broken stick at his paws.
"FWOW!" she screamed demandingly, pink spittle spraying her playmate's chest.
Grimlock was impressed with the girl’s zeal, though it came as no real surprise because she was a puppy, and pups were full of unspent, burning energy. He still retained much of it himself though it was a little more focused, the older he got, he found. She screamed, quite literally at the top of her lungs, for Grimlock to throw the stick he’d found and then raced after it once it went sailing through the air. There was a sharp crack as the stick split under her weight when she pounced upon it and she returned with the larger half of it and dropped it at his paws. He glimpsed down at it, wet with saliva and blood and he peered at Junior, concerned and then looked to Peregrine, hesitant. “It has blood on it,” The claim proven when some of her pink spittle clashed against the white of his chest. “You’re bleeding Junior.” The game was on pause until Grimlock knew whether Peregrine thought it was something to be concerned about or not.
In a way, he couldn’t blame Junior’s will to ignore it and keep playing — he would have done the same thing if their situations were reversed. The difference was, as Grimlock saw it, that he could tell the difference between serious and not serious and considering she was still little he didn’t exactly trust her judgment; so he turned to her father and his uncle to see what he thought ignoring Junior’s demand for the time being.
"Open wiiide. Show me your tongue, Osprey, stick it out!" Peregrine coaxed, making a game of it, which caused her to oblige willingly. Her pink mouth yawned wide open and he could see the red spot on the roof of her mouth where the stick had broken through the skin. "I think..." he mused grimly, glancing at Grimlock, "She'll live." He cracked a smile, then retreated.
As soon as her dad got out of the way, Osprey Jr. leaped to her feet as if they were spring-loaded. "FWOW STICK, GWIM!" she hollered impatiently, mindless of the wound in her mouth.
Sheepishly Grimlock shuffled his mud painted paws in the dirt, avoiding looking at Peregrine when his uncle confirmed that it appeared that both Junior and him had a penchant for making one another bleed. There was a moment, when Peregrine spoke grimly after peering in the girl’s mouth Grimlock felt his heart skip a beat and then accelerate rapidly within it’s prison of flesh and bone, pupils blowing wide in his irises as he steeled himself for bad news. A second later he confirmed that she would live and then cracked a grin. Grimlock’s ear twitched, brows furrowing in confusion having expected there to be some kind of torrent of blood before he sighed in relief, shoulders sagging as the tension released from them. He was nervous because he really didn’t want to hurt Junior and because he was new to the caretaker thing and really, really didn’t want to mess up. In no time, what literally felt like a second after Peregrine had vacated their space Junior was back on her feet, demanding that he toss the stick for her to fetch again. The raptor bent his head, lips parting as he grasped the stick, wet with Junior’s blood and saliva, now mixed with his own in his grip and tossed it once more for the girl with a whip of his head.
They went back and forth like this a dozen times (surely, Grim must be developing whiplash) before Osprey Jr. finally wore herself out and tumbled onto the ground nearby, panting. She lay there and caught her breath, then rolled over and sat up like a sphinx, grinning a wolfish grin at the pale, black-nosed boy.
"Jun-yaw wike Gwim!" she declared with an accompanying tap of her tail before the puppy sighed and let her chin sink onto her crossed forelegs. She was plumb tuckered out.