The woods had seemed a good enough waypoint for Moorhen. Too, she wanted to stop and point out the two gaping maws that marked an unnecessary pass; she didn't want the lambs getting turned around on the way home if they got separated, so she explained that the pass would spit them out on the other side, but that it was a longer way around and they'd better not take it because she wanted them back on the island post-haste if they got separated. And they'd better not get separated in the first place, because she was not in the mood to worry about them, please and thank you.
After delivering this firm diatribe, she'd released the kids to hunt for their dinner - there were a fair amount of lazy ptarmigans in this area - and had returned to @Szymon's side. She wanted to ask how he was doing, if the kids were annoying him, if he was feeling any better... but the words wouldn't come, even though she knew these ones. Instead, she shoved her nose into his shoulder, trying to prod a reaction out of him.
"Hungry?" she asked, nostrils flaring as she thought about looking into their own supper. Food, thus far, had been the only thing the pair could really manage without getting prickly with each other. Unsurprisingly, communication did not seem to be their forte.
After delivering this firm diatribe, she'd released the kids to hunt for their dinner - there were a fair amount of lazy ptarmigans in this area - and had returned to @Szymon's side. She wanted to ask how he was doing, if the kids were annoying him, if he was feeling any better... but the words wouldn't come, even though she knew these ones. Instead, she shoved her nose into his shoulder, trying to prod a reaction out of him.
"Hungry?" she asked, nostrils flaring as she thought about looking into their own supper. Food, thus far, had been the only thing the pair could really manage without getting prickly with each other. Unsurprisingly, communication did not seem to be their forte.
January 25, 2019, 06:38 AM
They were moving away from the ocean. The Szymon Cairn of old would have found this unbearable — but he had already borne the unbearable. He had lost Doe.
These children, each of them drawn by a different pair of hands and painted with a different palette, were not his children — but they matched. That bothered him. One boy, two girls, a poor substitute for the ones he’d abandoned. Looking back on it, he couldn’t say he regretted doing it, though. Doe had been a light for him, and he’d followed her flitting trail through some of the darkest moments of his life. Now that she was gone, everything was dark — but he still remembered what light looked like, and maybe he wouldn’t have if he hadn’t given everything up to chase her.
He was feeling morose when Moorhen approached and shoved her nose into one lean, angular shoulder. His kneejerk reaction was to whip and snap, but he pulled his punch at the last second and closed his mouth tight. He wasn’t hungry — he was miserable and lonely and old and used up — but he looked her over with a gimlet eye and tried to gauge if she was asking because she was hungry. Hunger made females more bitey than usual, and he didn’t really feel like dealing with bitey.
Anyway, he never turned down a meal. He could have nodded acquiescence, but weirdly enough, he did want to talk. “Yes,” he murmured haltingly, his tripping tongue yielding easily to the soft monosyllable. “Lead,” he bade her, getting to his feet and stretching his fore- and hindquarters with a rocking gesture.
These children, each of them drawn by a different pair of hands and painted with a different palette, were not his children — but they matched. That bothered him. One boy, two girls, a poor substitute for the ones he’d abandoned. Looking back on it, he couldn’t say he regretted doing it, though. Doe had been a light for him, and he’d followed her flitting trail through some of the darkest moments of his life. Now that she was gone, everything was dark — but he still remembered what light looked like, and maybe he wouldn’t have if he hadn’t given everything up to chase her.
He was feeling morose when Moorhen approached and shoved her nose into one lean, angular shoulder. His kneejerk reaction was to whip and snap, but he pulled his punch at the last second and closed his mouth tight. He wasn’t hungry — he was miserable and lonely and old and used up — but he looked her over with a gimlet eye and tried to gauge if she was asking because she was hungry. Hunger made females more bitey than usual, and he didn’t really feel like dealing with bitey.
Anyway, he never turned down a meal. He could have nodded acquiescence, but weirdly enough, he did want to talk. “Yes,” he murmured haltingly, his tripping tongue yielding easily to the soft monosyllable. “Lead,” he bade her, getting to his feet and stretching his fore- and hindquarters with a rocking gesture.
February 08, 2019, 11:08 PM
There was a part of her that would always hold on and associate Szymon with her youth. But when he asked her to lead, she had no trouble stepping into that role. She was a leader, and he was no longer the man who'd carried her across the beach. So she lingered only long enough to allow him time to stretch before setting off at a quick clip through the trees, her long strides eating up the ground.
She'd been hoping to come across some kind of fowl. Turkeys were always a good bet. Instead, she found herself face-to-face with a strong and sprightly doe. Its coat was a bright, burnished brown, and its legs were strong and tapered, and snow was falling around them just so - Moorhen was struck as she'd never been before by the beauty and grace of the species. It was a fine specimen, and she knew that she and Szymon were unlikely to be able to bring it down on their own.
Still, when it turned and ran, she sprang right after it.
She'd been hoping to come across some kind of fowl. Turkeys were always a good bet. Instead, she found herself face-to-face with a strong and sprightly doe. Its coat was a bright, burnished brown, and its legs were strong and tapered, and snow was falling around them just so - Moorhen was struck as she'd never been before by the beauty and grace of the species. It was a fine specimen, and she knew that she and Szymon were unlikely to be able to bring it down on their own.
Still, when it turned and ran, she sprang right after it.
March 16, 2019, 02:04 PM
As far as Szymon was concerned, there was little here to appreciate. He didn’t make a connection between his wife’s name and the walking buffet, and he certainly didn’t know why they were chasing this ungulate — she was too hale, and they weren’t that desperate — but if Moorhen wanted to chase it, well…
The male’s paws were flung immediately into motion, tattered ears falling back upon his skull as he stretched out into a low-slung lunge. With one eye on the fleeing quarry and the other on his banded leader, he ran — and if she didn’t stop him, he’d continue to run until his heart burst or his lungs gave out.
The male’s paws were flung immediately into motion, tattered ears falling back upon his skull as he stretched out into a low-slung lunge. With one eye on the fleeing quarry and the other on his banded leader, he ran — and if she didn’t stop him, he’d continue to run until his heart burst or his lungs gave out.
March 18, 2019, 02:52 PM
Moorhen hadn't stopped to wonder why she'd given chase. It was a fool's errand, but when something ran from her, she wanted to persue it. She still didn't expect to be able to catch up to the long-limbed creature - but when Szymon's pallid form began to overtake her, she gave a bark of laughter and feinted toward him, hoping to throw him off or trip him up as she began to pump her legs harder.
The doe was just a flicker of motion through the trees ahead of them - not quite forgotten, but no longer the focus of the run, either.
The doe was just a flicker of motion through the trees ahead of them - not quite forgotten, but no longer the focus of the run, either.
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