Sun Mote Copse Smash a vintage vase a day

@Penn , but all off-age puppies (@Weejay , @Crow , @Avery , @Sugar Glider ) are welcome.

It had been a long morning for Wraen - this day's hunting had not come asy for her - and by mid-day it had been so hot that after a dip in a river, she had returned to her cozy quarters and had a lengthy mid-day nap. And after that she felt rejuvenated enough to be selfless and generous to someone else besides her. Therefore she went to visit Finwood home - place she frequented both to check up on Eljay and be a helping hand, if needed. 

She announced her presence with a quiet woof and, while the adults decided, which one (or ones) deserved a time-off and away from the kids, while the poor, unsuspecting victim was still there, Wraen gave a quick, perfunctory inspection of the vicinity. Checked out, what the puppies had been up to in her absence, which trees had suffered and where the grass was never going to grow again, as well, which toys had been destroyed and which needed a replenishment.

Seeing as Pox was one of those who had grown quite proficient at destroying toys, the youngest Finwood was always very eager for visits from Wraen. Her presence had the off effect of making the other grown ups disappear, but he never minded. Wraen was way more fun, anyway. And she brought presents. So, as usual, Pox bolted away from Finley as she attempted to plant a kiss on his head as a good bye and charged over to his favorite babysitter as she appeared, his little tail propellering him along.

"HI!" the boy called brightly as he rammed his skull affectionately into his foreleg, proceeding to then curl his little body around it like a cat as he attempted to see if she'd brought them anything new today. His ears drooped a little after a moment and he peered up at her questioningly. "Where's pesents?" he asked in as polite a voice as he could muster, which is to say there was a little bit of a what the crap, dude? tone to his words.

makin' some assumptions about their familiarity--hope it's okay!

Fine by me! Those buggers grow up more quickly than I am able to thread with them. And that - what the crap? - part got me. :D

Wraen would never reveal this to Finley (or anyone for that matter) that she still had some difficulties telling apart, which puppy was which. All were nice and grayscale at this point and with very few distinguishing features. However, personalities spoke volumes and made recognition easy. As in Penn's/Pox's case. 

She looked down at the little guy and was amused by his semi-accusative tone, when he asked, what had happened to the presents she had been supposed to bring here. Wraen leaned down, looked the little guy in the eye and then said: "You would not believe, what happened with me on the way... Here I was coming with that big present meant just for you and then... what's that (!) a dragon swoops down at me." 

And at this point of the story she grabbed the fellow gently in her jaws - to make an impression. "And then he took me to his nest," she let him go. "With all the presents."

Pox's little frown was quick to reassemble itself into a grin as she crouched low to speak to him. He knew something fun was coming, so his tail started going once again. His head tilted with intrigue and surprise as she began her tale. He didn't have any idea what a dragon was, nor did he fully comprehend what swooping meant. But hot damn, did this sound like some serious business. And hot damn, was he displeased.

"Buh's not his! Dats bad!" Pox declared, clearly offended. He failed to clarify for his caretaker that he was referring to both the presents and Wraen not belonging to the Dragon Swoops, but I promise that was truly part of his problem.

RIGHT! I had to check before I posted to figure out how old he even is lol

"Right? Right?" Wraen picked up the displeased tone of her eager listener and played her role so well that she even managed to roll her eyes in a believable way. "I told him right away that I can't vouch for all Finwoods, but Pox, especially, will get ve-e-e-ery angry and that he will kick the dragon's a... bum-side, if something happens to either me or the presents," she went on with the tale with such a confident ease that it was hard to believe that it was not true.

"That guy did not believe me - he devoured the toys and was about to devour me as well, only I jumped from his nest and he managed only to chuck out a hole in my coat here," she beckoned to the side of her chest, where her winter coat had already thinned considerably and the skin was visible underneath. "But we cannot let this happen another time, can we?" she looked seriously at the boy. "We must teach him a lesson."

She had been digging, as evidenced by the muck covering more than half her small body. It just so fascinating, the act of unearthing bugs (mostly worms), roots, various stones and occasionally something like an acorn or a small bone. Today, she'd found something even better than all of those things combined: a mouse nest. Sugar gulped down the pinkies, one by one, relishing the taste of her first kills without even being consciously aware of achieving this milestone.

It wasn't long after polishing off the litter of newborn mice that @Elwood nabbed her for a bath. She'd resisted at first, though he pinned her and soon the rhythmic strokes of his tongue soothed her into a drowse. She was mostly asleep when Wraen appeared and began telling tales to Penn. Sugar twitched, black eyes cracking open a little wider and her ears pricking to catch the exchange. Yet she remained where she was, comfortably cradled in her father's arms.

Feel free to skip me! :)

Pox was definitely a good listener. He was gullible enough simply due to his youth, but he seemed to have been gifted with an extra helping of it on top of even that. In his head, he was piecing together the mental image of what a dragon was--something like a wolf, but really big with mangled fur and ugly faces. He nodded eagerly and barked an insistent "Yeah!" to let her know that she had been absolutely right--he was definitely going to kick some dragon swooper bum-sides, just y'all wait.

The boy's face wrinkled in a puppy snarl after a brief moment of appalled shock at seeing the damage the dragon swooper had done to his friend. A little growl was rumbling from his chest as he looked fiercely at Wraen and nodded fervently. "Yeah, c'mon! We gotta show 'im! Is our pesents! OUR PESENTS!!" Pox barked, then lunged forward without hesitation to go destroy his enemies! I mean, he didn't have a clue where he was going, but the boy was a wrecking ball--he'd just steam roll his way across the world until he succeeded in his goals or fell asleep.

Wraen realized that she might have fuelled the boy's imagination a little too much an in order not to let him down, she would have to think of something regarding that dragon. She firmly believed that you had to be honest with children (as much as it was possible) and gain their complete trust in you. So, if a dragon she had mentioned, a dragon she would get. Maia would definitely have ideas, if she did not.

"Whoa, wait a bit," she told him and stepped in his way to refrain him from running god knows where. "You can not run right into a dragon's nest like that. You need to prepare for that," she explained. "Otherwise you will be a quick snack for him and it is hard to kick anyone's bum, if you are inside someone's belly, right?"

Pox was stopped shortly by Wraen, who appeared to be far less riled up than he was. He blinked owlishly at her, confused by why they weren't charging ahead, even as she explained the answer to that very question. She seemed to think it unwise to go in unprepared. She seemed to think they would get eaten.

The boy scrunched his face up in a frown. Patience was not something he was well practiced in, but his affection for Wraen stayed him for the moment. "No... Buh we gotta get da pesents," Pox explained, as though the roles were reversed and it was his caretaker now that needed his guidance in this matter, "I won' let him catch me, I pomise. I'll go so fast, he won' catch me, an' I'll get da pesents an' we make him da snack." He added the last with a daring little smirk.

He gazed hopefully up at her. I mean, how could she argue this perfectly logical plan?

Wraen admired Pox's determination and smiled to herself. Finley did not need to tell her that her son was the typical specimen for a Blackthorn - she could easily see, how all Colt's crazy adventure stories had come to be true. And she did not wish to curb the boy's enthusiasm, therefore decided to re-direct it. 

"Dragons are no joke," she told him in a serious tone. "Let's practice a little before, alright?" she suggested, looked around for something that could become a likely treasure and settled for a badly chewed piece of hide, that - stinky, wet and forgotten - was hanging in the bushes (she briefly wondered, how the hell had it got up there). 

"Let's try the situation - I am the dragon, this is the present I stole from your nanny," she explained, lying down and placing the piece of hide between her paws. "Now - I will pretend that I am asleep, but I am still guarding that toy. You come up with a plan to steal it away from me? Capiche?"

Pox still was not convinced that this was a worthwhile use of their time, though he held any verbal arguments at bay. It was rather obvious from the disgruntled look on his face, though, that he was only partaking in this exercise to placate her. He personally was already in tip top shape for dragon battles and had no real need to hone his skills seeing as they were already perfect. But, he supposed Wraen had gotten herself kidnapped by this dragon once already. So really, he was doing her the favor by getting in some practice. Though by that logic, shouldn't he be the dragon and she work on sneaking up on him?

Well, maybe they'd switch roles next. Being the dragon hunter actually sounded more fun in this little roleplay game. Pox nodded, his reluctance visibly deteriorating as Wraen got into position. "Capees, he confirmed very seriously as he prepared himself for the show of a lifetime. He crouched low, his eyes narrowed as he crept forward quietly. He focused on the hide in Wraen's arms, ignoring her entirely because she was secondary in his mind to the treasure and why would he need to pay attention to her? With that being the tactic, he took the direct route towards the hide that meant all she had to do was open her eyes to spot him reaching to snatch the ragged fur away.

Wraen did not need to see him, to sense him coming - he did not know that, but he revealed his presence in so many other ways. The sound of his soft and sneaky footfalls, the warmth radiating off his body, the thick smell of a puppy (milk, pee, dirt, dust and so much more) wafting her way.

She waited, until he was inches away from her, counted 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 - lift off! - opened here eyes and snapped her teeth right in front of Pox's muzzle. "You are a dead puppy, now," she announced him with a smile and a quick lick of his forehead, in case she had startled the guy (with him being a purebred Blackthorn - it was unlikely). 

"Do you want to be the dragon now?" she offered him, lifting herself up to a sittin position and stretching her upper back and neck.

From where she languished, Sugar listened to the tale unfold. Part of her marveled at how both her brother and their guest could speak so much and so fluidly. The rise and fall of their voices—hers bold but feminine, his a high-pitched squeak—intrigued her as the words flowed back and forth. She was accustomed to the sound of many voices by now, though there was something very different about the exchange between only two. It wasn't unpleasant at all; she actually rather enjoyed it.

She was too invested in the strains themselves, so Sugar didn't really follow along with the story. But there were a few snatches she absorbed and a handful of words repeated that stuck in her brain. "Dragons" was one of them. "D'agons," she murmured for Elwood's ears only, earning a smile and nudge from her father.

She caught him! Pox was actually startled by this completely unexpected turn of events. Not in a million years had he thought he'd be thwarted and so easily! The boy fell backwards onto his haunches as he avoided her teeth and stared at her, eyes wide with shock and confusion--a look that didn't flicker for even the briefest of seconds when she planted a kiss on his face. She had legiterally caught him. How was that even possible?

In a moment, Wraen was making the suggestion that he himself had originally considered. Seeing as how his attempt at claiming the hide had gone, the reversal of their roles was not completely out of the question. Pox shook his head vehemently and stood, fixing her with a determined frown. "No! I gotta try 'gain," he stated, "No peeking dis time!" The boy gazed at her shrewdly, waiting for her to lie back down and shut her eyes before gave it a second go.

"As you wish," Wraen shrugged, but instead of repeating the previous sequence, she picked the piece of pelt up, placed it elsewhere and lied on top of it, so that only a small corner was visible from beneath her rib-cage.

"Ready? I am going to sle-e-e-e-eeeeeep!" the yawn came naturally. Then she rested laterally and with a deep sigh prepared for a good nap. If the pup was stealthy enough, she might fall asleep for real.

Pox watched as Wraen moved back into position. She too changed things up this time by lying down on top of the hide instead of just holding it in her arms. He frowned at this, but didn't protest. He was up for a challenge. He followed her doggedly as she laid down, sticking his nose up against her cheek to make sure that her eyes were closed before he turned and darted away. He ran right to a nearby bush, which he promptly burrowed himself into because puppy logic told him the problem last time was that she'd known where he was coming from and by starting out by hiding, she wouldn't know where to find him.

Nevermind the fact that she wasn't actually looking for him so much as just waiting for him. Maybe he should've asked her for some advice prior to this... Oh well!

The boy hid there for about twenty seconds before deciding that he was safe to come out again (I don't know if you're familiar with Skyrim, but this would be where the eye icon closes and shows you as Hidden so you can sneak out again undetected). Once emerged, however, he went with the same exact tactic as before--crouch low, go slow, accidentally wag your tail against your enemy as you're lining up your pounce, and (I'm assuming) get caught before you even try to lunge for the hide.

That Skyrim superpower, which sounds kind of cool, even if the narrator has never played the game, would not have helped Pox much this time either. Wraen lied completely still, but one ear was flicked backwards and was listening to, what tactics the dragon-warrior-wannabe was coming up this time. She heard him brush against the bushes, she discerned the approaching rustle of the grass, she felt the light touch of his tail against her skin and, when he was about to pounce, she made an attempt to roll on top of him with a grin and a cheeky: "Dead puppy, again."

A wide yawn overtook Sugar then, splitting her tiny jaws apart and causing a shudder to pass from the tip of her nose down her striped spine to the end of her tail. When it ceased, she sprawled over Elwood's legs and went utterly boneless. She peered over at Penn and Wraen for a moment and her impression was that they were thinking about a nap too. But then Sugar turned her head away again, resting her cheek on her dad's ankle and letting her eyes drift shut.

"Ni'ni', Elwood," she murmured, still listening to the story until she drifted off into dreams of her brother riding a dragon with a wren's wings, ironically enough.

As I suspected, Pox got caught. And as everyone else probably suspected, he was completely taken aback once again. He rolled onto his back underneath his sitter as she foiled his attempt, his eyes once again wide with surprise. After a second, he scrambled onto all fours and bounced out of her clutches, then spun to face her fiercely once again. "No fair! You peeked! You peeked!" he shouted, positive that he had to be right because there was simply no other explanation for how she had caught him. It was literally impossible, people. Wraen is some kind of magical wizard, I'm telling you.

Wraen knew that she had to let Pox win the third time, because otherwise he would lose interest in the game entirely. "Alright - I admit it, I peeked," she poured oil on troubled waters (because this is such a kick-ass synonym to "pacify"). "But a real dragon won't play fair either - therefore you have to be prepared for anything and be really, really, really good," she added. "Let's do it another time," she said, pulled the pelt from under her, placed it on her forepaws and rested her head on top of it. Easy for the young buck to take it away, if he sneaked at her from the right angle.

Pox's frown only deepened when his babysitter confessed her terrible crimes. What she said made sense, he supposed. But he didn't like cheaters, and if there was going to be cheating, then he didn't want to play anymore.

"Buh issno fair," he proclaimed again, sticking his button lip out in a stubborn pout. He turned away from the hide as she laid it out for him, but only for about five seconds before he peeked back over his shoulder at it, glowering and obviously quite torn about whether or not he actually wanted to give up on it. Two very dominant parts of his nature were battling now--his insistence on fairness and his determination to not ever ever ever ever quit. It was hurting his little puppy brain, and shortly he found his angry little puppy lip trembling.

Perhaps Wraen should have raised the level of difficulty gradually. Letting the rules be fair first and only then adding the spice of "life is not fair, kid" to the cooking pot. What was done, was done. Pox had one last round to try out his luck and then his babysitter would be done with actively playing for today. 

However, if he did not hurry, he was in the danger of losing her attention even sooner. The pelt was a soft surface to rest her head on and she felt the sleep coming.

Wraen said nothing to placate him, but continued to lie still and wait for Pox to make his move. He continued to teeter between action and inaction, uncertain if he was more defiant against the unfairness or the giving up. It took him a little while to work it out, but after a minute or so, he sniffed up his tears and back down to business. Unfairness be damned--Pox Blackthorn was going to defeat this mother fuckin' dragon.

He went about it the same way he did before, only this time he was nearly vibrating with determination. He crept around, trying to be sneaky and get close before he blasted forward to try and grab a corner of the pelt and tear it away from its captor.

Third time, lucky, eh? 

With one paw in the dreamlands already, Wraen worked hard not to notice Pox's approach and managed to effectively block it ouf of her conscious mind. All she heard was a "swoosh" and a hefty tug (and here she slightly moved her head to release the pelt) and the young Blackthorn was a winner. Not giving up had paid off. 

"Good job, littl- oh, the brave warrior," she praised the boy. "Now I think it's time for a meal. I have a dragon amount of hunger and you need to eat something as well," with this she left the valiant knight under supervision of the other adult present and shortly returned with remnants of a something big they had killed earlier that week. She settled down to eat and shared, if the puppies showed any interest in it.