Stavanger Bay 8 dogs 8 banjos (Optional Packtivity)

There were few things that pleased Lotte Ansbjørn more than being the center of attention — and it did not matter whether that attention came in the form of rounded eyes and forward-thrust ears at her telling of a particularly macabre tale; pounding paws and lashing tails in time to her songs of battle or celebration; or the shocked, strangled cry of shock that she felt in a stuttered vibration against her tongue when she dispatched a foe. She merely wanted to be seen — a strange desire for the quicksilver rogue — but an artist was nothing without her audience, and a singer was always happier with accompaniment. Thus, when @Doe began to dance, her long, sprightly legs twisting and leaping with impossible grace, Lotte conjured up a verse for her. It was a rollicking, quick-paced mess of words, a tangle of languages that her deft tongue managed with a series of fillips as dextrous as Doe’s feet:

“They called her päiväperhonen —
‘tulla alas, tulla alas!’” they cried.
Like sopulit they swarmed below and
their greedy hands assailed the sky.
The pieni tanssija floated out of reach,
“Se ei ole nimeni!” laughed she with her teeth.
With fangs gleaming, näpsäkkä minx
stole away their hearts and fled on kesätuuli —
and they, left to cry, could never remember
the colors of her wings.”

It was a song that equally fit @Artemis, tiny creature amongst taller beasts, her smallness of stature matched only by the doggish creature in the water, Doe, and the puppies. Lotte hummed a few extra bars for the coyote, eager to pay homage to such enthusiastic dancers. “Ai!” she exclaimed, punctuating her singing with a breathless cry. “A warrior so wise — small body, but a spirit to swallow mountains,” she sang in a lilting overture.

For silly songs such as that, Lotte assumed an ingénue’s soaring soprano, bouncing and skipping through the octaves with blithe ease. She looked to the small girl with bright ochre eyes. “I sing for your friend, @Chusi, but use your word — päiväperhonen is ‘butterfly’ in my language.” She dropped to her stomach in front of the small puppy, her singing ceasing at once to give the girl the respect she was due. “Yes, what an elegant and beautiful dancer she is, is our Chusi,” she beamed, elated, casting her glowing starbright gaze upon @Arturo’s face. “I’ll accept this answer and give you a reprieve, herra — but only this once. Next time I shall see you dance, or throw you in your sea!” Her smile was pure mischief as she shook her head, laughing at her boldness and her folly. A voice of reason whispered to her — he is not your brother, and you should not take such liberties with him! — and was swiftly snuffed out. “Tell your tale, little one,” the hoyden invited, mirroring Doe’s words as she rolled onto her back to look goofily up at the girl.