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.

She blushed slightly at Arturo's formal words. Miss Chusi- yeah, right. She almost chuckled, but managed to keep it in, thinking it might be rude to just so openly display amusement. She listened to the scarfed one once more- her ears perking at the new word and accent that prickled her brain. It sounded so different from the language she was used to. Päiväperhonen- yeah, i like tha'. She said with a smile, her accent a little rusty and off-sounding. After the dancing and päiväperhonen song of the scarfed lady was over (her accepting the compliments she got for her dancing with appreciative nods) she sat her butt down. She cleared her throat lightly. She would make a tale up if that was what was liked here- perhaps then the lady in gray would reconsider.

There once was a lil' girl. She nevah got to play outside, or see the wonders of the outside world. Her motha wanted her to stay inside in the dark. Still, there was once creatu-ah that just enchanted the lil' girl so much she couldn't resist steppin' out of her den. She told, the words coming straight from her heart. Perhaps no one would notice the story was actually about her and how she had gotten here in the first place.

They met in the field- an equally lil' butterfly bein' the symbol of their friendship. They promised to protect eachothah from the dark and monsters- not knowin' their small kingdom was fallin' apart. The lil' girl's mother was so mad and showed her true form- a monster as dark as the place she had kept her child. The lil' girl didn't know wha to do- so she fled with her friend to the sea with anothah woman. The lil' girl finally had a place to exploh and be happy. But that was not where her tale ended. If only it had- even if the actual end was a happy one too.

But her friend soon felt sick- forcin' 'im into a den where they wept with just the three of 'em. The lil' girl wanted to help 'im so badly she got lost... A dark creatu-ah that could no' or would no' speak found her and they again were found by a white man that told 'em of the sea and his home. Her eyes shifted to Szymon for just a moment. They went to a place where sometimes, all the wolves of the sea gathered to tell tales. The lil' girl knew then that she had to share her one too- for these she trusted and with 'em she would find happiness... Her eyes trailed over each of them with a happy smile, tiny sparkles of tears twinkling in her ocher orbs. They were "happy tears" she knew.

Doe turned her head from her whispered conversation with Lotte as Chusi's tale drew to its end; she'd missed very little of it as it was, but now she wished she had paid a little more attention. Dull as the woman was, she was sure that the little girl had been telling her own story, and Doe had compassion on the bright little girl.

"That was a very good story, Chusi," she praised, smiling brightly at the girl. To the rest of the group, she said: "In fact, I think that was the perfect way to end the night! Thank you all for coming - see you on the next moonless night!"

Trusting Szymon to look after both children, she turned back to Lotte to continue their converstion.

Probably last post from me!

Last post from me! Kind of glossing over the end of the Den Night; @Chusi and @Arturo, feel free to powerplay Szymon and Lotte from here on out. Basically, Szymon is going to take Chusi to Donnelaith after the Den Night, and Lotte [known as Kitku here] will finish her conversation and escort him there.

Szymon was content to listen as the nameless bard sang accompaniment to the cadence of his wife’s sprightly paws. His attention was riveted on her, his auriferous eyes fixed and possessive as they traced her lissome musculature, and now and again his posture shifted with the turn of his head as he tried to see around the other dancing bodies that obscured his view. Only @Qilaq could draw his attention away from the sight of the birdlike witch doctor. Shifting his body to accommodate her smaller form, he sheltered her protectively. “Look at your Amayo, Qilaq,” he crooned with fondness, preening the small girl’s nape and shoulder with open affection. “Would you like to learn how to dance like her?” The stutter, by this point, was nearly nonexistent around Qilaq and Doe. He sometimes got the impression that Qilaq liked to be talked to even if she didn’t always respond verbally — and whether or not that was true, he decided to just keep talking lest she feel ignored or unsettled by the large crowd. “If you want, Appeh will try to learn with you,” he promised like an idiot. The very idea of learning how to dance was nearly terrifying to Szymon, but for his girls, he would.

Tipping back his head, he howled appreciation when @Chusi’s story came to a close. He hoped she would be happy in Donnelaith and was not sorry to have taken her, even if she could not find a permanent home in Chateau Dozzle. Seeing the way Arturo and Lotte had taken to the girl, Szymon knew that she would have allies wherever she chose to stay. “Littling,” he said to Qilaq, using Doe’s word for their daughter, “when this night is over I will have to t-t-take a small trip — but I will c-come home before morning.” He did not elaborate; he didn’t wish for either Qilaq or Chusi to feel threatened or hurt, though both had ample reason. Just as Doe and Qilaq belonged to Szymon, so too did he belong to them — and a significant chunk of his evening would be taken up by the trip to take Chusi to Donnelaith and help her settle in and find somewhere safe to sleep. In the same vein, Chusi was being plucked from the wilderness by one pack only to be immediately delivered to another. Thus, when he finished grooming Qilaq and ensuring her safety and comfort, he turned to his ocher-eyed foundling.

“Chusi,” he said, “when you are ready, I w-will t-t-take you to the forest — and K-K-Kitku will join us. T-Take all the time you wish.”

Appeh says something to her and she spins her head around to look at him, pondering the question. With a blank expression, she looks back to Amayo and watches how she twists and turns. It doesn't give her any insight in what she may want but she doesn't get up and approach and instead hunkers down even further into the sand. The other wolves speaking do not catch her attention even as she scans the face of each one. When she searches again for Amayo, she is no longer standing where she thought she might have been and instead off in the distance.

Her ears cup forward as if she can hear them but no sound trails across the space and the next thing she knows, Appeh says something. She mimics the earlier movement and shifts her whole body, staring up at the man. He talks of his plans, which she doesn't quite understand, but dumbly nods her head. Surprise still lights up in her features when he leaves her alone to see the other puppy and her heart speeds up, lurching into her throat. Qilaq tries to make herself smaller, settling between mounds of sand until someone retrieves the bundle of nerves.