Lion Head Mesa Empty rooms are honest places

For a Mr. @Gucci, or anyone else in the (current) Gucci Gang.

Tamar had said that it would be some time before he would be able to walk. Crowfeather had withered at such news. The severity of his injuries had not sunk in. The fact that he had lost many of his memories had only helped him to feel that he’d be back on his paws in no time.

The days passed and the dark wolf remained resting in Germanicus’ living quarters. He’d been gone long enough that his scent no longer filled the room. Even the furs that had been arranged there only smelled of herbs and poultices. Crowfeather had found himself pressing his nose to them, trying to see if he could sniff out a hint of the silver eagle’s familiar fragrance. The remnants of Germanicus’ last visit had all but disappeared. The shadow did not know what he was supposed to do with himself.

There was word that he would be getting a companion for a short time. Crowfeather had not listened to much of what his visitors said. His mind was fixed on a point in the future when he could leave Akashingo and venture to the canyon with Germanicus, to see what he had built.

On that day, he rested on the bedding of furs and gazed at the entrance to the sleeping quarters. The yearling’s features were sour and forlorn. He wondered if he would have company beyond Tamar changing his wrappings and applying her herbs. It did not seem likely.

The golden furred beauty showed him the way to where Crowfeather rested. Supposedly, he had been resting a long while, his injuries great and crippling. That seemed horrific to the toy breed, who'd be taken to the veterinary at the slightest sign of uncharacteristic weakness. Now he understood what importance there was in the task the queen gave him.

Gucci padded down the hallways of this beautiful structure (he still firmly believed it manmade) peeking into every chamber he passed. Eventually, his bat ears and small, fuzzy face poked into the room where a great dark dog was sprawled over furs. Pungency of herbs clued him in to his status as patient. This must be his charge.

Fuzzy tail flagging, dog tag tinkling, the chihuahua entered the room with a light step.

"G'evenin'! Y' must be Crowfeather, or ahm ah wrong?" He said with a smile upon his tiny muzzle.

A jangling noise played through the caverns and halls. Crowfeather squinted sharply, ears perked tall upon his head so that he could listen to the unfamiliar sound. He wondered if the Fellahin had found something new to pleasure the Pharaoh with. The tinkling noise grew closer to the sleeping quarters where Crowfeather rested.

From the entrance, there was a small figure that looked no more wolf than the prey animals they carried to him in the mornings. The dark wolf recoiled sharply, fearful and wary of the strange little figure. He spoke with a drawl that filled the bedchamber. What on earth had Tamar given him? For this little being could not be real, surely. And yet, when he sniffed at the air around the miniature figure, he found that the beast carried common scents upon his coat. It smelled like Pharaoh and Satsu.

I- I am… Crowfeather’s voice sounded in a croak.

Wh- the seer could not settle on what he might need to ask. Who are you? What are you? Where on earth did you crawl out of? Why do you sound that way?

Who? but he faltered and blinked, stunned, at the small dog in his doorway.

Gucci's attentions were ensnared by the very room they were in. As Crowfeather struggled to find words (the chihuahua ignorant to the effect his presence had upon the wolf) the other male strolled deeper into the chamber and began walking along its walls, admiring how the humans managed to craft it all to look so very rustic yet so very chic. "Oh, mah gosh, ahm jest lovin' this place! Real bohemian." He appraised a discarded bone, almost as big as he. How authentic!

It struck him then that, in his enamourment with the décor, he skipped a vital segment of this social interaction. He stiffened up and briskly turned to face the large dog, apologetic smile upon his flews. "Bless mah heart, ahve forgotten mah manners. M Georgia Honeys Veni Vidi Gucci, but Gucci's mah call name. The queenly person assigned me t' keep ya company, and ah hope we'll get along swimmin'ly!" 

He was beaming.

The little figure moved into the room confidently and spoke again in his peculiar drawl. Crowfeather balked at him, eyelids fluttering in disbelief as he watched the unfamiliar shape move into the room and admire several portions of it. The shadow did not know what to make of the thing. There seemed to be no ill intent in his actions, no malice in his words – shocking that he could even speak at all.

It was not until the figure spoke again and offered a… name? Crowfeather nodded his head swiftly, knowing he would forget the little creature’s full moniker. He breathed a sigh of relief when he was given a shortened version. Gucci – the shadow gaped for a moment before he snapped his mouth shut with a small echoing clap and cleared his throat.

It’s nice to meet you, Gucci, he offered. Crowfeather dipped his snout, a show of faith and respect in the strange little man. He had said he’d spoken with Satsu. This was enough to ease the shadow’s frayed nerves, at least slightly.

I have a longer name too. We get them where I’m from. My dad named me From the Crow’s Wing, he said with a small smile. It faded as he felt his cheeks grow hot. Crowfeather was not sure why he had admitted such a thing to Gucci. Perhaps the many days in the sleeping quarters had made him lonely. Or maybe he was pleased to have discovered something familiar, no matter how small.

The toy male - not once questioning the benevolence of what he didn't doubt was a large dog - trotted up to the bed and made a tight circle before seating himself on its edge. 

"Fram the Craaw's Wing." Gucci repeated, his twang affecting the pronunciation of this quite simple name. He canted his head a moment, as if pondering it. "Mm-hmm. Native, aah like it." He said with a wag and a smile that had his pale pink tongue lolling.

"And, if aah may ask, where's it you're from? Me, ahm from Georgia, as it says in the name. Georgia Honeys Kennel, best breeders o' chihuahuas in the state." His chest puffed out with pride.

fyi gucci's also wearing a sweater. ignore this if you already knew that lel

The dark figure found that he had a terrible time deciphering what the little creature said when he spoke. This was a blessing and a curse, for Crowfeather was keen to listen to each drawling tone that left the miniature figure, but he did not find himself any wiser on what was being said or what was being asked.

Gucci came from a clan called Georgia, it seemed. The name of his home was something of a mouthful in its entirety, so Crowfeather did not attempt it. Instead, the shadow bobbed his head in mild understanding and tried his best to figure out how he might answer. All the while, Crowfeather’s honey gaze devoured the unfamiliar details on Gucci’s body – the tininess of his paws, the strange fur coat he wore over his long hairs, the stoutness of his muzzle.

Oh, I’m… I’m from the Starsea. It’s far from here. Not like this place at all.

Crowfeather swallowed a nervous lump in his throat.

Um… Gucci, the shadow paused uncertainly, what was the Georghoney like?

From so close, the chihuahua could look upon Crowfeather's features, and he found them puzzling. He would have guessed malamute, but there wasn't enough white on him and the face sloped far too gently. It made his tiny brows furrow. Had he encountered a brand new breed? But how come...

The question about his wonderful home of birth light up Gucci's face again, and his tail wagged with enthusiasm.

"Ooh, th' years in the kennel was the second most splendorous time ah ever had!" His excitement was voiced by a high, squeaky bark. "T'was in th' suburbs o' Atlanta, where the air's cleaner 'n' there's less noise 'n' the neighbors are much more pleasanter. Our owner was Missus Hannah Keith, 'n' she and her husband took good care o' all'a us, but t'was the Missus who had an eye for good blood! She bought and raised mah great-great-granma from puppy t' award winnin' beauty 'n' made sure each generation was as gumptious as she was." Were Gucci a bird, he might've begun preening himself at that point.

"Mah own mama was a thrice Best-in-Sho', 'n' mah papa ah never met, but ah been told he was a most courteous dog, from ovah the ocean, and an even finer example o' our breed. Ah had a sistah too, spittin' image o' our mama, 'n' we was raised wi' so much love, ah cannot believe ah ever managed to find more o' it." His eyes went iridescent with built-up tears, the nostalgia overwhelming him. His voice cracked, but the wag of his tail did not subside. "Them was such good years in th' kennel. When ah was eight moons ol' Missus Keith had me competin', and ah had her beamin' wi' pride at all o' mah accomplishments. Two good years ah been there, two good years o' makin' a name for mahself 'n' mah bloodline. Met so many inter'asting people, sired two litters o' what ah was told are true beauties, 'n' of course collected much gold 'n' titles..." He sniffed in trough his wet nostrils. "N then, somehow, an even better life found me..." A soft, wistful smile appeared on his lips.

The little male was winded, emotionally and physically, after this spill of information, but it felt so good to share with another. But, of course, as much as Grand Champion Gold Gucci was a talker, he also considered himself a plenty good listener.

"But, 'f course." His head snapped up to face the other dog. "Ah talked plenty 'bout mahself, now let's hear what y' have to share 'bout your Stahsea, which ah hafta say's a pretty name!" With his paw he urged the other male to, please, speak.

aaaaaaa i can't believe it took me so long to respond im sorry,,,,,

Oh, you are completely alright! Please don’t ever feel the need to apologize to me for taking your time. ^^ I’m only pleased to have a writing partner in you. <3 I’ll wait as long as I must, to get a taste of your beautiful words. *o*

The small being appeared to be full of words.

Crowfeather feared that he would not understand anything that was shared with him. He did listen, intently. There was not a sound that Gucci made that the dark wolf did not play through his mind. Once the small Neb had gotten halfway through his speech, the injured yearling had found a pleasantness to his speech. Still, he could not figure out most of what had been shared with him.

Two things could be gathered from Gucci’s telling of his home. The first was that he was fond of it, indescribably so. The tears that had gathered in the little being’s eyes had been clear enough of that. It was a feeling that Crowfeather did not know but could understand. He had dreamed many times of being born in another life, as another boy, with another family. The happy thoughts had kept his childhood filled with daydreams and those fantasies had made him lonelier, introverted, odd.

The second thing that could be deciphered from the dog’s sharing had been that he was quite good at speaking. The shadow was certain he had never heard another individual talk in such a way, seemingly endless with stories and words.

Where had they found him?

Crowfeather did not have the time to ask such a question, for Gucci wished to know of the Starsea.

Oh, well… I don’t believe it’s anything like the home you’ve described.

The dark yearling appeared thoughtful, wondering how much he should share. Anxiety bubbled inside of him as he imagined Gucci growing tired of listening to him talk. Crowfeather was a far better listener than he was a sharer.

We have certain roles in the Starsea. There is a leader, who’s name ends in star. My father became the leader of our home. Whitestar, and before that he was called Whiteclaw. There is a deputy, who is a second to the leader and will take the leader’s place once they have passed on and become a star themselves. There are warriors who defend our clan and hunt to feed those within the Starsea.

Was this was Gucci had hoped to know?

We watch after the elders, for they were once warriors. We raise the young ones to be strong, to become warriors and to defend their clan. There are two other roles. One is a medicine wolf, who is close with the Stars and can speak to them in dreams. And then there is a Seer.

The dark wolf grew warm speaking of his intended role.

That was supposed to be me, but… but not anymore. And he did not feel as though he wished to speak on it, any further.

Gucci, what- uh… what exactly are you doing here?

Gucci was an eager listener, simply because he believed ears as big as his needed a functional purpose besides being cute. They swiveled on his apple head to focus on the other male, awaiting.

What an intriguing arrangement for a kennel! The chihuahua said as much. "Golly-gee, y'all really got y'all's politics all nice 'n' neat 'n' easy ta understand!" The naming conventions seemed fascinating as well. What would be be, if these folk seemed to name themselves after their physical characteristics? Batears? Handsomeface?

The toy male approved of the care these unique dogs (hounds?) showed their aging and growing kin. If a hound spent their life working, it only made sense to retire in luxury, just as Gucci had been doing. And their beliefs, despite not being something he really understood (his Ma's cynical atheism rubbed off) seemed a comforting kind. How glorious it would be, to die and become part of the night sky!

His head canted to one side as he saw how flustered Crowfeather got at the mention of a Seer. He understood that not following the path set for you by fate or family could leave one with bitter feelings, and so Gucci adopted a soft expression and placed a paw, tiny and white-toed, upon the dog's much larger, dark one. He said nothing, but gave an encouraging wag of the tail.

What was he doing here? Gucci composed himself into a more serious posture, retracting his limb.

"Well, y'see, ah was with mah Ma, mah lady-ownah, an' we was havin' a lil campin' trip wi' her boyfrand. We wasn't really doin' much campin', y'see, but Ma liked the clear err. Anyway, few days ago, Martin, her boyfrand, took me out on a... a trip. O' sorts. N then he, uh, he, well, he then left me. Jus' out on th' snow." He gave a quick, nervous laugh. "Now awright he actually commanded me ta stay, which is a serious thang, but usually when ahm tol' that people usually, uh... come back fer me." The toy breed seemed to wilt, and remained in that sad state a moment.

Then, he fixed his posture again. "Nawt that am sayin' he, uh, left me, naw naw naw, ahm sure someone'll come back t' git me soon, Mistah Ram-ey-ses sed as much." Gucci grinned.

Crowfeather nodded with a small smile. The Starsea had a simple way, but it had served them well through many lifetimes. They had existed since the early days, when wild things still roamed freely upon the earth.

It was pleasing for the dark wolf to find that Gucci wasn’t bad company. He was a bit difficult to understand, given the thick accent that hung upon his words like honey. Crowfeather still enjoyed listening to the way he spoke. It was unlike anything he’d heard in his life. Just familiar enough to piece together, but still foreign and mysterious.

When the dog had found his way to how he’d arrived there, the shadow softened.

Someone had left him. Gucci had been abandoned by the ones who were taking care of him. Crowfeather wondered if, perhaps, it was because of the strangeness in how he looked. The man was so small. He could hardly be a hunter of herds. Was it too difficult for a creature who could not hunt or contribute to his clan? Crowfeather’s ears splayed apologetically at the small man.

Well, until they come back for you… you can stay with me. You can tell me about your home some more. It doesn’t sound like anything I’ve ever heard, not ever, the dark wolf commented. He had never been all too good at keeping company, but he was an excellent listener.