Hideaway Strath amber alert

Assuming he's met the fam behind-the-scenes. Open to anyone!

The 'strath was an intricate place he knew next-to-nothing about, besides the fact that a little family had set up shop within it. It seemed like a decent place to call home; there were enough twists and turns in the forest to confuse even the most skilled of alpine rangers, and the sprawling forest seemed to go on for miles. Being surrounded by mountains was a plus too; less entry and egress points. Why was he looking at this in a tactical manner? Because he couldn't help it — Dingo liked to know the lay of the land for just those moments where he's caught hip-to-hip with someone's wife, or daughter, or, whatever, y'know?

Anyways.

At the moment he was following a random animal trail, hoping to at least get a glimpse of the elusive deer herd that frequented the hideaway. Before long they'd become alerted to the presence of wolves and move on, but hopefully Dingo would find some trace of them (beyond mere graze lines, or the narrow paths they made as they moved single-file through the trees). So far, nada. He'd expected the forest to be a little bit more forthcoming but what the hell, he wasn't a hunter — at least not of anything he'd willingly share.

He came to the end of one trail and under his breath he blurted, Shit! Which was loud enough to startle the surrounding trees in to silence; the birds didn't like the expletive, apparently. The trail terminated against a stone surface he couldn't climb, which meant he'd wasted a couple of hours - and a couple hundred calories - going absolutely nowhere.

this can be a one off! I'm gonna be nonspecific on where she is, I just didn't want to toss a new one when there's lonelies!

Fennec still wasn't having it.

She hadn't come around to this place and was still miffed as hell at Phox and Towhee for forcing her to be subjected to it.  She gave them both the cold shoulder for the most part, and her bad mood meant Fig also got more bite than bark these past few days.

But despite the difficult transition she was enduring, she was young.  So today, slowly, she was beginning to make her way out from her chosen hidey hole and venture around a short distance.

At this point, feel, sound, and scent were far more useful to her than sight.  As such, she did not run, and her eyes didn't stray as she walked.  Instead she placed her paws carefully and her ears rotated heavily, sensitive to any chatter from nearby birds or potential hazards.

She paused to sniff an interesting scent, but didn't follow it.  Not yet at least.  For the first time she was wary about going too far from their base of operations.

The return trip was faster - funny how that happens - but he didn't get all the way back to the start in those twenty minutes or so of hiking. A shuffling sound along the path caught in Dingo's ears and made him slow, then stop, but he didn't look around. If there was prey here he didn't want to move and spook it away; honestly it would've been comical to see him standing as still as a tree with only his eyes flicking to-and-fro. The tempo wasn't too irregular. The steps sounded soft, careful, and low to the ground which suggested (to an idiot like Dingo) that it might be a possum out of its tree, a very large rat, or maybe something else small and delectable. He began to stalk along the path after that in search of the critter...

And as Dingo came along a sharp-edged grotto of stone wrought with old and bent trees, he spotted it -- something on the smaller side, and gloriously golden. Nice big ears -- wait. The man took a deep breath and with a brief shake of his shoulders, shrugged off the mantle of hunter he had assumed for the past few hours, giving it up as he intercepted the blind child. So much for impressing the boss with a bit of fresh meat (well, unless he improvised with his own, wink wink).

Hey kid, he called out to her gruffly and from a distance, not wanting to spook her. Dingo wasn't kid friendly. He really didn't do kids; his interests lay in the more developed wolves of the wilds (which didn't mean much in retrospect). He observed her for a few minutes as she acclimatised to his presence, looking her over with a bored expression she could not see — in part, studying her and wondering what she'll look like as an adult. Her golden coat was intriguing. Her petite figure would probably fill out a little bit, but still remain tiny, pliant, and attractive. Yeah, she'd be hot when she was older. A smirk creeps slowly across his face as he thinks about that. 

You shouldn't be out here, you know that. As he intercepts her he reaches out, lightly nudges her to realign Fennec's trajectory so that she's facing the den or whatever, and murmurs over her head, C'mon, I'll walk you back--

Fenn was still being a real stick in the mud about all of this and Fig was really bothered by it. He didn't want to be--he wanted to run around and have fun exploring. There was just so much to do and to see! He was mad at his sister for not wanting to experience it all with him, but he was also reluctant to actually go experience it without her. They'd been inseparable for their entire lives (which had been short but hey they're kids), and it hurt now that it felt like they were being pulled in separate directions.

Honestly though, you probably wouldn't have noticed them being pulled in separate directions at all seeing as Fig continued to hover nearby his sister at all times. He maybe ventured away from her further than usual and did some things on his own, but still, he always knew where she was and always remained close enough that he could go to her if she (or he) needed something.

This time, she needed something. Or so Fig had decided as he saw her stand and timidly venture out from her hiding spot. His tail began wagging excitedly, but he resisted the urge to run and join her just yet. Maybe he had learned a little something of independence, for he just stood back and watched for now, making sure she was looked after without letting her know that she was.

That is, until Dingo arrived. Then all bets were off. Fig leaped forward to dart up to his sister's side where he planted himself between her and the near-stranger. He knew the guy's face--they'd been introduced after all, but still he wasn't too certain of him and definitely had zero intention of Fenn being on her own with him. So, for the first time in Fig's young life, he stared down a strange boy in that protective big brother way, a low (relatively speaking) growl rumbled from his chest as his tail flashed high over his back--the perfect stance to show dominance, just five sizes too small to actually be effective.

She hadn't entirely meant to push her brother away, but in this new place, she was starting to realize for the first time that she might not be okay alone.  Even if she was too young to hunt, or to fight, instinctively she still understood the concept of independence.  At the plateau it had meant she could run off on her own with little fear because, at first, she could see what she was running into.  And later she could see it because she knew it was there.

Here she'd need to find another way, and she hadn't managed to come around to asking Feeya for help yet.  Why should she need him when he didn't need her to be happy here?  He seemed to get around fine, and that bothered her too, because she should be able to do anything he could.  

Fenn froze when an unfamiliar gait approached and a strange male spoke - the same one who Papa has brought home recently, a new someone who'd live here with them.  She shook her head, and her ears went back, but she did feel a little better when Fig came up on her side.  I'm splorin. She replied, in a way that meant obviously no interference was necessary.  

Using where his voice had sounded from, she continued to walk, away and around.  Silently she hoped Fig would come with.... but if he didn't, she was going to learn this place.

He meant the child no harm. She was far too young for him, and as such Dingo didn't have a use for her; he tried to get her to turn around but was abruptly confronted by a second set of eyes and teeth which seemed to have come out of nowhere - the antithesis of the golden girl, this new cub was a sooty replication of Phox and was doing a very good job of deterring Dingo. He need not bother as the man was more inclined to recoil from the sight of one kid, and being faced with two bundles-o-fun (yawn) his natural instinct was to leave them to their own devices. But he thought about how that might look to the boss and with a theatrical sigh of exasperation he relented to whatever Fennec - and her toothy brother - wanted.

Right, 'course you are. Y'know there ain't much to see— he attempted to dissuade her a little more, but as he spoke Dingo's bored glance at the two kids became a little sharper, as he realized what he'd been saying and the slight blunder (as well as humor) within the phrase. I mean, uh, yeah sure lets go. He nodded, but the girl wouldn't see it; sidestepping around the pair of tots, Dingo motioned with a sweep of a paw at the path ahead. He knew it eventually ended in a tangle that no wolf could pass through, which made it safe enough for two adventuring kids.

I'll keep an eye on you from back here, clipped the man as an assurance, and gave the kids free reign while he lingered behind them. How'd he get roped in to babysitting duty again?

Fig kept his eyes on Dingo, but the rest of his senses were attuned to Fennec so he could keep track of where she moved. The stranger didn't appear to have any intention of harming them, but the boy still wasn't totally convinced. He stepped backwards to follow Fenn when he heard her move, but kept himself angled to not lose Dingo from his sight. Unfortunately, it grew physically awkward for him rather quickly, so he was forced to look away from time to time, but still he shot glances back over his shoulder at the man to make sure his face hadn't twisted into a heinously evil grin while his back was turned.

"You're a stranger," Fig shot at him suddenly, looking back to give him a frown. Towhee and Phox had introduced them already, but the boy hadn't made up his mind yet (clearly). He made his statement as though it were a challenge, which is just what he meant it to be. He didn't know a damn thing about getting to know new wolves, but instinctively he knew the importance of putting others in their approriate places.

Eventually, Fennec would learn to laugh at and embrace jokes like the one he had made unintentionally.  In fact, she would crack them herself often and with a dark humor that bordered cynicism.  Right now, though, it went completely over her head.  She began to walk, but Fig didn't follow closely enough because she felt her side leave his.  When that happened, she froze and tensed.

Now here she had a choice.  She could give in to pride and leave or she could do the opposite, and it only took her a second to decide.  There was barely a choice to make.  If anyone was going to help, it was going to be him.  It's too dark, she said quietly, turning her head to where she heard Fig's voice coming from.

Someday soon she'd learn to use her ears to compensate, but right now it was too much.  Maybe it would have been better if she'd never had sight at all, because to have it and to have it taken away meant that she had adjustments now to make.  Adjustments that could have come naturally had she never known what she was missing.

The boy had some wits, enough anyway to make Dingo scowl as he is rebuked, but the man isn't about to argue with the pipsqueak or anything so he lets it slide. Then Fennec joins in, and her little voice has all the forboding of that kid in The Ring; she deems things too dark and with that glassy stare of her's, Dingo is thoroughly unnerved. He presumes that her announcement ties in to her blindness and any other guy might've felt pity, or maybe a flare-up of that pesky thing most adults have -- that compassion stuff -- but Dingo is void of both. He doesn't pity the girl at all, and shrugs in response to both kids, then blants his rear end down.

Okay, if its too dark then stay here. Or go adventuring - I don't really care, bud, Dingo's statement starts out being directed at the bat-eared golden child but slowly segues towards Figment, totally fine with being brusk with these little gremlins. He isn't good with kids; he doesn't like them much at all, and is already impatiently waiting for the weeks to pass so that he can properly judge Fennec as she grows up. If they want to adventure around then he'll be present for it - and likewise, if they are too afraid, he'll happily laze about in the grass.

Fig kept his eyes glued to his new packmate, not backing down from the challenge he had just presented. He expected Dingo to fall all over himself insisting that he was not, that he was a good guy and he wanted to be friends. But he didn't. He just gave him a look that seemed to suggest he didn't care what the puppy thought of him, which was absurd. How could you ever not care what a puppy thinks of you. If you don't want to be BFFs with every puppy you meet, then we clearly have a problem.

Fortunately, Fig was distracted from his showdown when Fennec spoke. He turned to her, immediately more concerned by the tone in her voice than his wariness that Dingo couldn't be trusted. He didn't understand what she was talking about. It wasn't dark here. It was a nice, bright day. Maybe her standards for brightness were simply higher than his?

Fig glanced at Dingo, his anxiety around him now gone because he was one of the big wolves and that meant he had to help. His words confused him even more, but it did give him a thought--and that was to do the exact opposite as what he'd said. "C'mon Fenny, lessgo over here in the sun," he urged, stepping towards her to bump up against her side and direct her towards the break in the trees where he saw a nice patch of sunlight that might meet her impossibly high standards of brightness.

She wasn't talking to him.  Fennec wasn't afraid of Dingo, but for some reason she didn't like that he had heard her admission and responded to it so outright.  She felt ashamed, and it flickered in her little belly as she pressed closer to Fig's side.  

Isna sun, she said, but she still followed.  Is dark.  She couldn't explain it any other way because there really was no other way to say it.  It was like slowly, gradually, the world had gotten darker and fuzzier.  And now, finally, darkness had come and just never left.  No sun, no night, no nothing.

It occurred to Dingo quite suddenly that Fennec, cute as she was, had not had her blindness explained to her. Maybe her parents didn't think it would be worth mentioning? Maybe they didn't know that her eyesight had gotten so bad that perpetual night had fallen across the world for her. He decided not to press the matter, it wasn't his place to explain the situation to her and she seemed somewhat dismayed by his commentary anyway. At the very least, he'd shove that little detail somewhere for later use; in the coming weeks she'd grow in to her body, and if she was truly blind as a bat — then that would make things much easier for him.

Dingo withheld the desire to smile, though his tail swayed at his hocks.

Figment, he then addressed the boy, as he was the blind girl's guardian and Dingo's primary obstacle for the time being; did you want to play out here, or in the den? Its up to you. Your mom and dad say I need to watch you kids, so I will, but you can choose. He stepped back, giving the kids more space, and reclined to his haunches again once he was there. Maybe babysitting wasn't so bad after all? If he could appeal to Figment and ingratiate himself, then his access to Fennec later in life might be a lot easier - hm, the deviant little man had many things to consider.

Figment frowned when his sister said isna sun, unable to understand how she could think there wasna sun when there clearly wassun. He frowned skyward again where the light's rays peeked down at them through the treetops. An idea was beginning to form then, for the very first time, that maybe his sister just couldn't see it. How that was possible, he didn't know. Fig peered quizzically into her face to make sure her eyes were open, finding himself all the more baffled when he discerned that they were indeed. He felt terirbly sad that he apparently couldn't do anything to help her, but he bit his wobbly lip, determined to be strong for her.

He turned his attention back to Dingo only when he heard his name called. He started a bit, having forgotten the guy was even there. Fig looked at Fenn for an answer to the question. "Fenny wanna go insigh or p'ay oussigh?" he asked, nudging his nose softly against her shoulder.

Ousigh, she replied, sure of that.  She had come out after all, and wasn't finished exploring around to find out where things were.  Her ears were on overdrive, going from Dingo's voice to Fig's and then to the birds and insects around them.  Birds usually meant trees, and she could tell now that there were some close by.  Maybe that was a way to go?

Lesgo!  She announced abruptly, and summoning her confidence from somewhere, began a little (slightly slower) jog towards the birdsong.

Figure we can fade since Dingo is PPC now <3333

Fig's tail began to wag when Fenn announced that she wanted to stay outside. He hadn't really wanted to put an end to his fun, though he would have if she'd asked. The days where he'd been content to play inside were done and gone now. He'd left the den, experienced the greater world, and it was there that he wanted to be--beneath the trees and the sun and the sky. All things, he was realizing slowly, that his sister would never get to enjoy the way that he did. 

Well, that just meant they had to focus on making other things more fun for her. He smiled as she broke into a jog and sped up to bound along right at her side with Dingo, their ever-faithful babysitter, in tow for whatever adventures the pair came up with.