With only two months under her belt, Osprey Jr. didn't have the slightest grasp on the complicated relationships between adults. She especially wouldn't understand matters of the heart for many months to come. Yet when she'd woken yesterday to find her father gone, the youngster had sensed something amiss. When she'd looked at her careworn, pacing mother, this feeling had increased. By the time Peregrine finally had shown his face, right around the kids' bedtime, his face had sealed the deal. Osprey didn't know what but she knew: something was horribly wrong.
Now it was a whole day later and, while her father had brought the pups some lunch and played with them a while before their afternoon nap, he'd vanished again. As the shadows of night crawled closer, Junior listlessly padded around the rendezvous site. She didn't have the mental capacity to discern what was wrong, nor the vocabulary to ask. She had questioned Hawkeye and Kisu occasionally ("Daddy, whewe?") but they'd just shaken their heads at her, so by now she'd ceased asking.
Standing near the clearing's furthest northern edge, Osprey Jr. stared off into the woods for a while when she finally heard familiar footfalls approaching. Standing at attention, neck craning forward and tail wagging tentatively, she whined under her breath. The dark puppy bounced like an electrified jackrabbit the moment her father emerged into view, a dead bunny hanging in his jaws. Posturing submissively, she went to him and lapped eagerly at his chin, her greeting clearly saying, I missed you, daddy!
"Hey there, Junior," Peregrine said softly after dropping the dead hare. His face was drawn and his eyes were weary and distant. He licked her head and then peered across the clearing, where Hawkeye, Kisu and the other pups were milling about as they awaited supper. He made no move toward them, so Junior didn't either. Instead, she clung to Peregrine's leg like a static-cling sock when he picked up his kill and began to range along the site's perimeter.
He came to a stop on the far side of the clearing, then dropped the rabbit and called, "Sorry dinner's late!" More softly, he said to Junior, "I'll be back in a little bit. Eat up, little huntress, and tell the others daddy says hi." He nipped affectionately at her ear and then turned and, after a brief glance backward, glided back into the forest.
Young Osprey ignored the food and ran after him, shouting, "Da-a-ad!" Yet he quickly disappeared and she knew better than to try following him. Sighing, she traipsed back to the rabbit. The other pups hadn't wandered over yet, though they surely would in the next minute or two. Although usually rather domineering around meat, Osprey didn't even feel like eating. Her parents' (namely her daddy's) strange behavior was upsetting her stomach. Instead, she flopped down next to the dead rabbit and, upon realizing it smelled a bit like her dad, she began to roll on it.
Now it was a whole day later and, while her father had brought the pups some lunch and played with them a while before their afternoon nap, he'd vanished again. As the shadows of night crawled closer, Junior listlessly padded around the rendezvous site. She didn't have the mental capacity to discern what was wrong, nor the vocabulary to ask. She had questioned Hawkeye and Kisu occasionally ("Daddy, whewe?") but they'd just shaken their heads at her, so by now she'd ceased asking.
Standing near the clearing's furthest northern edge, Osprey Jr. stared off into the woods for a while when she finally heard familiar footfalls approaching. Standing at attention, neck craning forward and tail wagging tentatively, she whined under her breath. The dark puppy bounced like an electrified jackrabbit the moment her father emerged into view, a dead bunny hanging in his jaws. Posturing submissively, she went to him and lapped eagerly at his chin, her greeting clearly saying, I missed you, daddy!
"Hey there, Junior," Peregrine said softly after dropping the dead hare. His face was drawn and his eyes were weary and distant. He licked her head and then peered across the clearing, where Hawkeye, Kisu and the other pups were milling about as they awaited supper. He made no move toward them, so Junior didn't either. Instead, she clung to Peregrine's leg like a static-cling sock when he picked up his kill and began to range along the site's perimeter.
He came to a stop on the far side of the clearing, then dropped the rabbit and called, "Sorry dinner's late!" More softly, he said to Junior, "I'll be back in a little bit. Eat up, little huntress, and tell the others daddy says hi." He nipped affectionately at her ear and then turned and, after a brief glance backward, glided back into the forest.
Young Osprey ignored the food and ran after him, shouting, "Da-a-ad!" Yet he quickly disappeared and she knew better than to try following him. Sighing, she traipsed back to the rabbit. The other pups hadn't wandered over yet, though they surely would in the next minute or two. Although usually rather domineering around meat, Osprey didn't even feel like eating. Her parents' (namely her daddy's) strange behavior was upsetting her stomach. Instead, she flopped down next to the dead rabbit and, upon realizing it smelled a bit like her dad, she began to roll on it.
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Messages In This Thread
when the lights go out - by Junior - May 30, 2014, 12:21 PM
RE: when the lights go out - by Saēna - May 30, 2014, 01:42 PM
RE: when the lights go out - by Junior - May 30, 2014, 01:54 PM
RE: when the lights go out - by Saēna - May 30, 2014, 02:07 PM
RE: when the lights go out - by Junior - May 30, 2014, 02:17 PM
RE: when the lights go out - by Saēna - June 18, 2014, 09:11 AM
RE: when the lights go out - by Junior - June 21, 2014, 10:41 PM
RE: when the lights go out - by Saēna - July 04, 2014, 11:11 AM
RE: when the lights go out - by Junior - July 04, 2014, 08:55 PM
RE: when the lights go out - by Saēna - July 16, 2014, 10:54 AM