Sun Mote Copse the frumious bandersnatch!

The August sun beat down relentlessly, though Sugar paid the heat no mind today. At her request, @Elwood had brought her back to the stream where he'd taken herself and Crow following their bouts of sickness. Not only was the water cool, the area was very shady, with dapples of sunlight breaking through the canopy here and there.

The youngster was in the midst of a very rousing role-play in which she played several characters simultaneously; in fact, she played all of them, save for one. Abruptly, Sugar gave a muted cry and splashed over to where here father relaxed watchfully on the bank. "Oh nos!" she shouted sotto voce, inspecting her father's nearer leg.

It was perfectly intact, of course, but in her imaginary game, Elwood had been badly burnt by a nefarious dragon! "Suge to the rescue!" the pup chimed, kicking water over the pretend wound and then nabbing some sopping wet dead leaves, complete with stinky mud and slime, to slap over Elwood's outstretched leg.

Title from "Jabberwocky" by Lewis Carroll.

Niamh had begun to loosen her grip on Bronco, allowing him to wander a bit on his own- but he no longer felt as though going for a walk on his own was an act of rebellion. His mother had nearly walked his legs off while they’d been away on their trip, so he had less desire to simply escape. And when she said she was going to accompany him on this walk, he simply shrugged rather than protesting. She suggested the stream- and he was down with that.

By the time they got there, they weren’t alone. He recognized his uncle Elwood, whose leg was receiving all sorts of disgusting layers of mud and leaves by one of his kids. Niamh gave him a nudge, and went to lay down next to Elwood, enjoying the shade. Bronco eyed the dark-eyed pup with a sort of haughty skepticism. 

”What’re doin?” He asked, stepping into the water but keeping his distance. He, like any child, had differing opinions on getting muddy and playing in the dirt. He only wanted to, if he wanted to...And only if his Mom didn’t want him to.

When two new faces appeared on the scene, Sugar gave them a cursory glance, smile and wave of her tail, then blew a raspberry as she continued tending Elwood's fictional wood. She was quite immersed in her role and wanted to make sure her father had the proper care he needed before she assumed any new players into the game.

She had just finished burying her dad's leg in river muck when Bronco approached her. "Hi, Bron," Sugar said easily, demonstrating her latest quirk: shortening everybody's name to the first syllable. "I'm helping my dad 'cause a dragon burned his leg! The water helps because it's cold," she explained, "and it soo—soo—sooooo..." Dagnabbit, what was the word she was looking for?

"Soothes," Elwood helpfully supplied and Sugar's head bobbed enthusiastically as she agreed, "It soothes!"

Bronco looked over at Elwood with an expression that probably would have rivalled the Rock's raised eyebrow look when Sugar Glider mentioned a dragon. "Whut?" He asked percussively, shifting his look to his Mom who snorted with laughter at the look on her son's face. She leaned toward Elwood and whispered "He gets that look from his father," which caused Bronco to stiffen slightly and lift his chin. Mom was lame. This made him sour. He shifted his attention back to Sugar, who seemed to insist that the mud would help make things feel better. He glanced to his mom, before he plonked his hindquarters down in the water. 

"Ma said mud makes things get infuckted." He commented skeptically, eyeing Elwood's leg. "Infected" corrected Niamh, though not without a quilty laugh, and he simply shrugged. Same thing. He didn't know what a dragon was, or really what it was to be burnt- but from what he'd been told, making a wound muddy meant it'd get worse. He gave Sugar a somewhat hairy look, and shrugged. "Infuckshins kill you."

Bronco's rebuttal gave Sugar pause and she squinted at him thoughtfully. Her first impulse was to refute him. At least in the canon of her game, that reality simply didn't apply. But her interest in medicine wasn't at all fictional. Perhaps this comment had merit. As much as she wished to continue her game, even include the two newcomers, the pup decided to drop it in favor of one of her other favorite subjects.

Niamh had corrected her son's pronunciation and, in any case, she was an adult and a more likely authority on the matter, so it was toward her that Sugar turned her attention. "How's it get infected?" She thought she knew the gist of that word, although she wouldn't mind a refresher on its definition. "And how's it kill you?" she asked with an almost comical gulp, Stygian eyes widening as she exchanged a look with her dad.

Bronco tilted his head to the side when Sugar asked him about infections. He didn't know what an infection was- he'd simply been warned against getting one, and had been told to keep any cuts he might've acquired clean. There had perhaps been a bit of exaggeration on Niamh's behalf, in a last-dith effort to get the boy to at least try to keep himself clean, as he would no longer allow her to do it for him. He shrugged, though, wanting to seem as though he really knew the answer, and was surprised that she didn't. 

"Gotta keep cuts an' stuff clean. Dirt gets in, an' it makes infucktions." He explained, keeping his mother's face in his peripheral vision. He didn't want her to interrupt. "Infucktions get worse an' worse an' then you die, 'less you clean up an' git rid of it."

It was Bronco who spoke and Sugar's black eyes swept away from her father's face to her fellow pup's as he explained about infections. She still wasn't entirely clear on what an infection entailed, exactly, but it sounded really bad. And her takeaway from his anecdote was to keep wounds clean. That, at least, was simple to both comprehend and execute.

She felt a jolt of fear pass through her when she realized what she'd done to Elwood, only to remember a heartbeat later that it was all made up. Sugar exhaled on a quiet giggle at herself, then wagged her little gray tail as she regarded Bronco with keen interest. She didn't know him as well as the other pups in the copse, having spent the least amount of time with him, but she naturally figured they would be friends.

"How do you know so much about infections?" Sugar wondered, careful to use Niamh's pronunciation. Only recently had she been truly mastering speech and, though she certainly didn't judge Bronco, she personally felt so much more grown up when she spoke more like an adult.

OHGAWD THE IRONY.

Given the fact that Elwood didn't seem to be in any pain, and that his mother hadn't already begun cleaning the mud off his leg, Bronco assumed that Elwood was actually fine. Sugar relaxed, too, and considering the fact that she didn't race over to clean the mud off Elwood's leg, he assumed with even more conviction that she'd just been playing. 

"Ma taught me." He said, gesturing toward his mother who wasn't really paying much attention to the two, as she didn't want to interrupt while they were actually being civil. "Y'only die from uh infucktion if you're weak," He said with a fierce grin. He liked his uncle, so he gestured over to the silver male with a flick of his little muzzle. "H'uncle H'Elwood's too strong t'die from infucktion."

She gave Niamh a speculative look, wondering if perhaps the towheaded woman might share some more of her knowledge. But before Sugar could contemplate picking her brain, Bronco's comments drew her attention back to him. She was no longer worried about her father's decidedly fictional wound, though she still absorbed this information like a particularly thirsty sponge. And all fantasy aside, it pleased her to know that her dad was too strong to worry about infections, should any real ones come along and find him.

But what made Elwood strong? And what exactly did Bronco mean by "weak"? Sugar sort of grasped the concept, though she wondered aloud, "How do you know if you're strong or weak?" She felt a sudden itch on her chin and reached up to scrub at it absently, black eyes pinned to her cousin, though they gave the occasional sideways flick to Niamh.

When posed a question that Bronco couldn't quite answer, he shrugged one of his shoulders, and then dipped into a play-bow. "Ya just know," He said, wriggling his bottom from side to side, tail waving from side to side, the tip slightly curled. "I'm not weak. 'Re you?" He asked with a playful challenge in his voice, hovering his chin just above the water's surface for a moment. He bounded to one side and bowed down again, and then bounded back, dipping his front end down yet again in another open invitation to playfight. But as dictated by some unspoken code, he wouldn't pounce unless she accepted the invite. His Mom had schooled him on more than on occasion when he'd ignored the fact that no playfight was to happen unless both parties agreed- so fortunately for Sugar, he held back, waiting for her response rather than simply leaping at her in an attempt to pin her down.

She'd been asking generally, though Sugar was quick to react to Bronco's prompting. "I'm stronk!" she insisted, straightening her legs to pull herself to her fullest height (which was quite puny) and puffing out her chest. "I'm a dragon!" It didn't occur to her to explain that she was a good dragon, whereas the one that had attacked her father was a bad one. It was a foregone conclusion that dragons were much like wolves in that way: some were good guys, others were bad guys.

She'd actually forgotten all about the game for a moment, though now that Bronco playfully challenged her, Sugar quickly reprised her role as a dragon. She bared her teeth and hissed, even as her tiny tail lashed. In her mind's eye, smoke furled from her jaws and the leather wings sprouting from her back would fan the flames about to spout from her mouth.

And just because, Sugar's imagination cast Bronco into the role of the nefarious dragon who had burned Elwood. Now she would be more than happy to avenge her father and began by opening her mouth, shooting a jet of imaginary flame at her cousin even as she sprang toward him.

Bronco chortled, snorting as he laughed, at Sugar's reply. She drew herself up, but Bronco retained his low crouch, ready to spring as soon as Sugar showed that she was ready to engage. She lowered her head, baring her teeth and exhaled at him, causing the boy to tilt his head to the side a bit. His mother- a horribly story-teller- had never brought up the concept of 'dragons' to him, so he wasn't really sure how to interpret the fact that Sugar was breathing at him as though trying to singe him with her breath. It was cute, though, and Bronco found it amusing regardless- besides, she was playing along with his game, and that was all the encouragement he needed. 

She exhaled at him again and sprang forward, and Bronco leapt up to meet her, reaching out with his front legs to grab her as she leapt toward him with her mouth open. Given the fact that he didn't try to avoid her attack, and the fact that she'd had a split second's edge on him, they collided chest-to-chest, and Bronco was toppled backwards onto the ground with a merry laugh, followed by a gurgling growl. He used his hind feet to kick out at her belly, though he tried still to hold her close to him with his front legs so that he could snap (harmlessly, mind you) at her shoulder, chest and neck.

Undeterred by the gout of flame currently directed at him, singing off his skin, Bronco leaped too. Although he was younger, he was already a shade larger and certainly heavier. When their chests impacted, she bounced backward too. But his legs locked around her as he fell over, dragging Sugar down with him, on top of him. She squeaked in surprise, then began to laugh as he scrabbled at her.

"I burned you!" she informed him, a gleeful look in her dark eyes. "Your whole head is on fire!" Sugar insisted with a childish cackle. "You should put it in the water so you don't get an infection!" With this (rather quiet) exclamation, she pushed off him and darted past the adults and into the brook, hoping Bronco would tail her.

He paused in his nibbling and grabbing when he was informed that he was actually suffering from a much more grave injury than simply having a sore shoulder from falling on it. His head was on fire? It only took him a fraction of a second to understand what was going on- and he, like any young child, was quick and keen to get into the game of pretend, even though it meant that he was in the losing part of the story. Acting his part, he let go of Sugar and writhed on the ground, uttering all sorts of mournful, painful noises that caused his mother's hackles to bristle, until she leapt off him and toward the brook. 

He dashed after her, flinging dirt up with his little paws as he did so (and inadvertantly toward his mother who simply sighed and shook her head) and went tumbling into the water as soon as he hit the wet rocks. He did a somersault, and ended up plunging his entire head into the water as he fell arse over tea kettle, and came up coughing and hacking, spitting water out as he laughed.

When Sugar looked back at Bronco, it was just in time to watch him topple into the water. Honestly, the sight was hilarious. The little Blackthorn tittered, then spun and splashed over to him. He appeared fine, though he was coughing and spluttering as well as laughing. Thoughtlessly obeying a subconscious impulse, Sugar raised a foreleg and patted him gently on the back.

"Yer head's not on fire anymore," she informed him once his breathing was closer to normal. Sugar's lips twitched into a playful smirk. She swirled her feet in the cool shallows, which were a respite from the day's heat. She considered inviting her cousin to a splash fight next.

But then Elwood's voice rumbled from the nearby bank. "Hey, Suge, it's about time we head back." He turned his head toward Niamh and added conspiratorially, "It's N-A-P-T-I-M-E." He smirked in his paternal way and then climbed to his feet before looking expectantly at his daughter.

"Good," Bronco choked as he continued to cough up more water. He was oblivious of the adults on the bank, conspiring to take their children in separate directions until Elwood called out for Sugar Glider. "Awwwwwww," Bronco whined, looking to his mom who gestured for him to get out of the water. Fortunately, the kid couldn't spell, so he had no idea what his mom meant when she nodded at Elwood and said "Same."

"Can't we just play a little longer?" The boy pleaded, stomping his feet in the shallow water, and pouting as he did so. Adults were such spoil- sports. "Pleeeeee-heeeeease?" He whined.

Bronco immediately refuted his mother's own command, begging for a few more minutes of playtime. Sugar was ever obedient, so she did not join in, though she did look to the adults hopefully. Her father was giving them one of those knowing smiles but lightly shaking his head.

"We'll get a snack on the way back," he assured. Elwood paused and seemed to consider something before adding, "And we can pick some flowers if you like. No purple ones," he promised sagely.

That was all Sugar Glider needed to hear. "Bye, Bron!" she said before bounding to join her father as he turned and strode away from the stream. She did glance over her striped shoulder to mouth a silent roar at Bronco and Niamh, followed by a grin. She then faced forward and padded after Elwood.

Bronco felt sad when Sugar obediently withdrew from the brook and went after Elwood. He huffed when his mother chuckled, and he plonked his bottom down in the shallows defiantly. "S'no fair." He muttered, but looked up and perked up slightly when Sugar bid him farewell. He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Bye Shug," He said, albeit reluctantly, which probably wasn't the most polite thing to do. Sugar and Elwood were barely out of sight when he sploshed another foot down in the water and furrowed his brow. 

"C'mon Bronco," Niamh encouraged, but he simply turned his head to watch Elwood and Sugar disappear. They were getting snacks and flowers. What was he getting? Dragged home. 
"I don' wanna go yet," He said defiantly, and stared down at the water. 
"C'mon bud. You don't need to stay sitting in the water all day. You don't want your butt getting all prune-y," His mother chuckled, obviously trying to use humour to get her son out of the water, but he wasn't hearing it. 
"I don' care, I don't wanna go yet. I wanna go with Shug," He said.
"You can't go with her right now- her father wants her home." Niamh reasoned. 
"But we can still play. Can't I go an' play with her?"
"No, you weren't invited. You can't just invite yourself over, it's impolite."
"Ughhh. S'no fairrrrr," He whined, still unmoving, so his mother stood up and stepped into the water. 
"C'mon water slug. Let's go get some lunch an' go home. S'about time for a nap."
And that was probably the dumbest thing Niamh could've said. 
"Noooo! I don' wanna nap, Ma! It's not nap time! I'm not even tired, an' I'm not a baby!"
"I didn't say you were a baby-"
"Then I don't needa nap!"
"Yes, you do. So do I. We both need some lunch or we're both gonna get hangry."
"I'm NOT hangry, an' I'm NOT tired. Jus' lemme stay an' play in the water!" He ordered, voice rising. 
"Bronco Blackthorn, we are going, now." His mother said, stepping forward to nudge the bridge of her muzzle against his back, forcing him to his feet.
"S'NO fair! I don't WANNA go!"
"Now you're acting like a baby,"
"I AM NOT! I don't NEED to nap! I'm NOT tired!" By now, his mother was full on shoving him through the water, one push at a time, until she got him to the bank where he slipped and fell into the mud which Sugar had been using on Elwood's leg. This pushed him over the edge and his defiance turned to a tantrum. He flopped down in the mud and started crying very loudly, wailing here and there that he wasn't tired and that he didn't want to go, so his mother simply stood there, not touching him, letting him scream it out. But because his wails were obviously having no effect on his mother, who seemed to take more interest in watching a few birds that had perched overhead (secretly she was trying to do some meditating, focus on her breathing so she didn't just grab him by the scruff and drag him home) his tantrum escalated to a full-on hysterical meltdown. And she simply let him scream it out. 

His voice was fairly hoarse by the time his mother finally looked down at him, and he uttered a few more sobs for pity, but it didn't work. 

"You ready to go?" She asked, simply. "We got some rabbit still back at the den."
"I don't *hic* want rabbit," Because he simply wasn't going to say 'yes' to anything his mother said. 
"You want some deer?"
"No."
"Groundhog?"
"No."
You want a boot in the rear?"
That comment forced a small, hiccoughing chuckle out of him. "Noooo," He said, standing up and began to walk. They walked for a little while before his stomach began to gurgle, so his mother gave him a good nudge in the ribs. 
"Your hungry-monster is growling. C'mon. I'll race you back- if you win, you get to pick what's for lunch," She said, before she began to job off. Bronco sniffed, and then dashed ahead of her, now more aware of his hunger, which made him in the mood for any of the meals his mother had previously offered. Fairly certain her tactics had been successful, Niamh let her boy win the race home, and the two raided the den and surrounding areas for some good snackaroos.