Barrow Fields get out somewhere other than me before

AW

the small wraith took a rare excursion from the sound, having been pressed to vacate the grotto with a most unusual urge for marmot. she had been miserable confined in ankyra's keep -- more so than usual, anyway -- and wondered if part of the irritability that seized her was a direct result of the life that harassed her belly.

it was a fairly inconvenient thing, being the supplicant to new life -- she resented their presence in her own way, and eagerly awaited their dismissal from her belly. she had time left, but the weeks were shortening and soon, she would have her own brood to tend to -- a brood entirely her own and not thieved from other wolves' shores.

she was preoccupied as she picked down the field, and she moved at a fairly leisurely pace that betrayed in many ways both her condition and the weight of the thoughts that yoked her.

hai mimzy

it was by coincidence that Lycaon was in the fields upon that same hour as the newest member of the Pudding Club. plying his gaze across the swathe with a lazy sort of interest, to his surprise, it was mana who first skirted across his attention's narrow scope, and he was quick to join her if she'd let him near, whining softly as he strode alongside her.

he hadn't yet reconciled his feelings of excitement for her and his own insecurities concerning the top-heavy branch he would occupy in their family tree ensuing her brood's debut earthside. in spite of his rank, he still felt beholden to Caiaphas for taking him under her wing when he was cast out by his own birth mother, and his ears swept deferentially to show that to him, she would always be his superior. "do you want me to get you something to eat?" he asked, eyes all but conceding all resistence to ogle her childing frame.

hello u smelly

caiaphas' mule length ear cast back as she heard a shuffle of snow behind her -- lycaon closed the gap with a flurry of whines pressing forth from his slender cheek. she slowed her gait so he could catch up to her, and once he did she canted her slim muzzle into the plush of his neck in the briefest of greetings. blood or not, he would always be her son - and she would always reserve a sliver of her fickle heart for him. she did not miss what truly captivated his attention, and she swung round like a fat manatee so he could see her in all her Fat Betty glory.

"you could get lost." she quipped, her expression serious despite the impish grin that tugged the corners of her jowls.

his consideration was shot full of holes by her musket of sass. Lycaon paused a beat, then shot his mother a silly look. "i can do that any old day." he dismissed her suggestion with a psshhhh and roll of his shoulderblades. his eyes slid away from her gaze, then snapped back with renewed impudence. "y'know though, i only have a few opportunities to watch you catch hares." his brow formed a daring crease.

oh, if he could manage to convince the roly-poly had-been siren into waddling after the aptly named harefooted creatures, his day would be made and fraught with endless amusement (or a well-deserved lacing into). he popped a seat next to her, smirking like he had put a frog in her canteen.

could u imagine she'd be like a fat man waddling after an ice-cream truck LMAO

caiaphas' doleful yellow gaze affixed on lycaon briefly with a scowl, though it was shortlived in light of the cheekiness he dared impart. she swung her angular muzzle towards him with a half-hearted nip firing after his form -- mind your mother, pup!!!

all the same a light grin was evidenced on her razor thin features.

"don't want hares." she muttered, swinging her muzzle along the snow-riddled grass, already on a trail that diverged from the frosted meadow back into the sequioa studded copse -- she trailed after it despite the fact that lycaon had elected to sit his plush behind in the snow. "want marmot."

he skirted away from her nip with a playful growl. ”don’t want hares?!” he echoed with a perplexed expression—who didn’t like peter cottontail for brunch? as she set after some spoor on the frost-limned groundcover at an amusing goosewalk (https://i.imgur.com/O9Wd7UW.gif), her appetite was made clear. 

of course. marmot. marmot was what the broody lady craved. the squirrel too fat and lazy to climb trees, with alarming lung clout--and hey, weren’t they still hibernating? Lycaon knew better than to debate her on it, though, and sat there with puzzlement knit of his brows. 

”well okay.” he conceded, springing to all fours in a bound after the retreating form of his mother. he swung into a gamely trot alongside her determined stalk. ”i’ll call ‘em out,” he said, not giving her time to protest before unleashing an ear-splitting ”SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!” unto the world as birds dispersed from the treetops with riotous panic.

the siren queen watched, bemused, as lycaon sprung forward like a fresh young buck; he loosed a terrific yodel and after that, she was certain he had promptly notified every creature in the vicinity to their purpose. all the same the comedic effect was appreciated, for she reluctantly issued a small smile in his direction.

her ears still rang from the tenacity of his call -- and she shook her head gingerly as if to rid herself of the ringing that had accumulated in her phizog head.  "okay, that was necessary." she quipped, taking a few steps away from him lest he elect to yawp again. she even preemptively pinned her ears to her skull, just in case.