Hushed Willows sad humming all the time

aw -- tags for ref

every day the absence of ariel's prescence in their den feels a little less unfamiliar. if he were a little older, the realization would sadden him; as it is, he can only keep growing forward, toward the light of the outside world. things could be worse. @Olive and @Seabreeze close rank around their children in the days following the tragedy, soothing any lingering anxiety over the incident (and, of course, explaining death, that which he could not name properly to @Cam, before). 

the quiet mourning is stifling. atwood begs to be let out of the den, away from the sadness, and his mothers usually oblige. he has not been able to sneak out since he met mali, but it's not so bad to have a gentle guardian with him. like today; he's acompanied by olive as he explores, busying himself with chewing on the roses.

Valiant was on the run; he wasn't sure how much time he had before @Sunny realized he'd escaped once more. At least long enough to find a good hiding place, he supposed, but hiding was boring. He wanted to play.

He tumbled headfirst into Olive's paws and grinned up at the pale woman when he saw who had caught him. His attention was soon stolen by another pup, however. If Valiant had met him, he had no memory of it. But the pups here were all his friends as far as he was concerned, so he bounded toward the other and immediately tried to tackle him.

Aside from being six days older, Valiant was also built more rough-and-tumble than the other boy. Still, he was used to being mindful when playing with Aeryn, and so he likely wouldn't be too rough for Atwood.

"I'm gonna bite your face," he declared, tail wheeling in a try and stop me sort of way.

aside from his strange, sad interaction with lily's son, atwood has not met any of the other litters. he's surprised by the sudden appearance of this new boy, brilliant and overwhelming. it is not that sundance and reif and he do not roughhouse--they are growing children--but of the three, atwood has never naturally taken to tussling. he would rather sit and contemplate. a little bewildered, confronted by this situation, he can only say, "why?" and lift one paw toward his chest protectively.

When the declaration of war did not garner a response of equal violence and determination, Valiant rocked back on his heels to study the other boy. Why? Well, he'd never thought about it that way before. Why not? was reason enough, wasn't it?

"You can bite mine," he told the other boy, stepping back to allow room for Atwood to take advantage of this magnanimous offer. It was no fun to tussle if everyone wasn't enjoying themselves, because then Dad would step in and tell them No, and Valiant hated more than anything to be told he was being bad. "It's fun," he added doubtfully, in case he'd misread the other boy's hesitation and he really didn't understand what face biting was all about.

teensy pp--can change if you want <3

his question seems to give the other boy pause, though when he speaks, he does not answer atwood's question so much as present some entirely new ones. atwood rather solemnly regards valiant's face, contemplating this offer--it's fun-- before nodding. okay. he will play along. emitting a noise just south of growling, the small boy launches forward, and very, very gently wraps his mouth around valiant's--well, aiming in the vicinity of his nose, though god know's where he actually lands. once he's got cautious purchase, he doesn't know what to do, so he just hangs on, softly mouthing the other boy's face.

This was -- well. Not what he was used to. Valiant reeled back a half-step, as if ready to tear violently away, but there was no fight forthcoming. Instead, his small, white rump plopped into the grass while he stared, bewildered, at his erstwhile adversary. The mouthing was neither unpleasant nor interesting, so he endured it for a moment before pulling away and batting just as gently at Atwood's face with a comically large (for his body size) and clumsy paw.

"Now I'm gonna stop you," he told Atwood, "So you gotta try hard."

easily the other boy slips from between his jaws with that bap, leaving him standing there, mouth open. he doesn't feel foolish for it -- as far as he knows, this is part of the game. oh, but it seems he has misunderstood the rules. atwood takes a moment to squint and think about what stop you might mean, before deciding he'll either find out or he won't. either is fine. again he surges forward with an almost absurd caution, reaching to delicately grab valiant with his needle teeth, though he moves even more slowly, waiting for whatever retribution the other child has planned.

I am so sorry for the delay. Life kind of got away from me. Perhaps we should close up soon, but I would love another one! I adore Atwood.

The next attack was just as baffling as the first. Valiant thought about pulling away to prevent it from landing, but it just didn't seem sporting. All at once, he seemed to grasp that this was not a game that would be fulfilling for the other boy, and thus, it became unfulfilling for Valiant as well.

Halfheartedly, he reached out to push a paw against Atwood's face, showing curious restraint for a child who was generally as wild and unruly as he could get away with.

"What do you like to play?" he asked instead, blue eyes intent on his newest friend.

no worries, angel -- i'd love an updated thread w them! :3

he is met with a paw against the nose, easily stopped. maybe he still doesn't get the rules--the other boy asks him a question instead. atwood sits back and looks thoughtful. what does he like to play? sundance likes to roughhouse, but he's always felt half-hearted about the whole affair. "i like... talkin'," atwood offers, after a pause, "and, um. lookin' at things. like...

atwood looks around, eyes landing on a nearby mushroom, sprouted recently from a rainstorm. "that," he says triumphantly, going to inspect it. "it's.. small, and strange. not there before, i don't think... it makes everythin' diff'rent." curiously he looks to the other boy to see if he tracks atwoods logic here, how wondrous and strange the landscape of elysium is, how worth studying.

You are small and strange, thought Valiant, but he was too stumped to say so. Part of it was that he was rather charmed by the other boy, and part of it was that he'd never really taken note of his surroundings in this way. He looked down at the mushroom and noticed, for the first time, that the ground seemed to be made up of a whole lot of different bits and bobs rather than just being one big slab of, well, ground.

"What else?" he asked, tearing his gaze away from the mushroom to look around at the little clearing. The world seemed suddenly very strange and alien and... full. He looked at the leaves and the grass and the bark on the trees, wondering what other hidden things Atwood might see. It was not a game he had ever played before, but it seemed, suddenly, like a wonderful way to spend the afternoon.