Sleepy Fox Hollow entdeckung

reposting; maybe @Emmerich or @Anselm? <3

mahler was beside the waterfall and subsequent small lake that he had begun to think of as eiche fällt. overlooked by a single great oak tree, it was bordered on the left by what would be a vibrant poppyfield, and on the right by open grassland.
he was upon the bank, examining the still and sunswept shallows for fish.
he thought of birdsong lagoon and of laurel, and his chest ached for a dull moment.

Emmerich did not need an invitation to follow after his father. He did so because it was what he wanted. Besides, Mahler had not ventured too far. The boy had already seen the outside of their family den. The world seemed to stretch on and on. He would never know it’s vastness. What little adventure he got was welcome, though. 

Paws plopped heavily as Emmerich trotted toward his old man. The young puppy yapped out in a noisy hello. He bounded forward and plopped his rear right at Mahler’s paws. Then he gazed up at the underside of his dad’s chin until his eye was met. Only then would he yap again.

emmerich came around and mahler chuffed a deep sound of amusement. "du hast nicht einmal versucht dich zu verstecken," he jested, reaching out to bump the pup with brush of his crown.
"andererseits ist dies ihr territorium." mahler had embraced even more fully his mother tongue since they had settled in the hollow. in fact, he spoke german so often that the common words did not always come first.
and he almost always used his natal voice when speaking with his children.

Dad spoke. Emmerich yapped at him again. His ears pointed when his mouth closed. Mahler was talking in the way that sounded special, unlike anything else. The boy liked it well enough. He didn’t understand the German any more than he did Wylla’s comments in English. It wad nice to hear, though. Nice to know that they were speaking to the kids. 

Duuuuu haaaa, Emmerich said in horrible imitation of Mahler. The boy’s tail waved happily. When he had grown tired of chatter, he whined from the back of his throat and dropped into a bow that he used to taunt Anselm.

emmerich attempted it. mahler chuckled, saying the words again. the gargoyle turned backt to the shallows, pushing his forepaws into the cool mud and flexing his toes. there was a large stone to their right, half-covered in moss. he motioned toward it, reaching with broad scarred muzzle to investigate.
on a whim mahler began to dig around its edges, attempting to excavate what was turning out to be a small boulder. he unearthed several things, including two worms and a round white stone.

Dad was amused, so Emmerich thought that he had done well. The pup trotted nearer to where his father stood, watching as Mahler went to work on the ground beneath a large stone. The man’s paws were so large that it seemed as though he could pull away giant clumps of dirt with little effort. Emmerich liked that, and liked that Mahler seemed to find interesting things inside.

The pup scooted toward the hole and sniffed at the items exposed. Without questioning it, Emmerich slurped one of the worms into his mouth and swallowed it with a surprised glance to his dad. It didn’t taste very good. Certainly nothing like the milk Wylla had given them, or the bones that they had found to gnaw on.

Da? Emmerich looked at the next worm, unsure if he should try to eat that one too.

mahler was surprised. his laughter was the same; it stuttered at the beginning and became full-throated. "er ist furchtlos!" the man declared to no one in particular, still chuckling at his son's puzzled expression.
he shrugged his shoulders. "essen sie mehr, wenn Sie möchten. ein wurm macht eine gute mahlzeit."
mahler poked his nose around another large rock, investigating a colony of pillbugs at the base.

Good, so dad seemed to like that his son was quick to eat bugs. Emmerich was quick to note that in his head. He could outshine Anselm, this way. No way his brother would be willing to pluck a worm out of the dirt like that and swallow it whole. Isa was too dainty to even look at bugs, he was certain of this. The boy was pleased with the laugh Mahler had given. He wagged his tail fiercely from side to side as the gargoyle spoke down in German.

When the old man revealed more bugs, Emmerich found himself growing tentative. The worm was one thing but licking up the pill bugs that mulled about in the dirt did not seem fun. They were shaped differently, so Emmerich could assume that they would have their own flavor. Emmerich forgot about the worm and began to sniff at the pill bugs where Mahler was searching.

One tentative lick told the boy that he did not like pill bugs. He spit them back out.

mahler chuckled again. emmerich's willingness to test the outside world boded well for any sort of role or trade he wished to take up later. the gargoyle moved on until his paws squelched in good rich mud, dark with nutrients. he dug until the earthy scent filled the air and exposed white rocks beneath the surface, and below those, a spread of wide pale beetle grubs.
the man put his face close and ate one with relish. in times where meat could not be found, insects and their larvae were a welcome second. they could not replace hot-blooded prey but a wolf might not starve so quickly. survivalism was a tenet of claiming a land slowly, and mahler wished to implement these lessons early.

The young boy was learning by example.

Emmerich would follow his father closely, looking up at the gargoyle and then down to the actions that he took. The child’s ears were pointed, intent. He searched Mahler’s face as the old man revealed a swarm of plump grubs. When the boy’s father ate some, Emmerich did not hesitate to do the same. His small tongue swept up two large grubs and pulled them into his mouth in a satisfying squish. The grubs tasted better than the pill bugs, by far.

When he had swallowed his treat down, he stood beside Mahler and looked up to the man with an inquisitive stare. What next, dad?

mahler chuckled to himself. imagine wylla's expression when he told her deadpan that he and the boy had spent the day eating bugs? he soon recovered and cleared his throat. 
a bird landed nearby, scolding the wolves with a loud voice. it put him to mind of better hunting. he caught emmerich's eye and tilted his heavy head, indicating that they should dip into the field.

Emmerich did not seem to mind that his father was made of few words. He enjoyed their game of mimicry. Mahler did not have to say much, for each of his actions was repeated by the boy at his paws – sloppily and far less coordinated, but with persistence. The pup wanted to prove that he could be just like Mahler. He wanted to show that he was a gargoyle, too, and that he could be strong and brilliant in his decisions.

Mahler’s gesture pulled the boy’s attention. Emmerich glanced between his dad and the chattering bird. His ears swiveled atop his light-colored head. The pup scooted closer to Mahler, bumping his shoulder into the man’s leg without realizing it. He shook his head and looked up to the gargoyle with intent.

Where you go, I go.

spring rain suddenly began to mist down toward the pair of hunters. mahler moved easily, noting how emmerich seemed to move as an extension of himself. the bird twittered and scolded; he broke into a lope, keeping his gait controlled for his son.
at the edge of the field there was fresh droppings. rabbits had recently been in the area with their leverets. he thought the latter might be easier to catch. when emmerich had been given a chance to look the spoor over himself, mahler set them into a hunting crouch that carried him smoothly into the tall grass.

Mahler moved swiftly enough that young Emmerich struggled to keep up. It did not stop the boy from trying. He moved in the same way that his father did. His legs stretched out with the same easy lope. He simply did not cover as much ground with his current stature. Time would change this. Given the right opportunity, the boy would grow into a strong young man with a sturdy figure and a penchant for throwing it around.

Rain spattered at his face. Emmerich’s eyes blinked hurriedly, as if Mahler would disappear if he closed them for longer than a heartbeat. When the man shifted into a hunter’s crouch, the boy nearly barreled into him. Emmerich slowed at his father’s side and did what he could to mimic the shape of the gargoyle’s body – crouched and ready.

emmerich was attentive.
mahler found that if he kept his gait steady, it would be easier to do this with a small body at his side. he had never been given the experience of hunting with a son. the resultant emotion tightened his throat with emotion.
he slowed and then halted, pushing long grass aside so that emmerich could see the little clearing beyond. there, a dozen little rabbits played among a trio of half-watchful adults.
he remained silent, patient, observing as he allowed his son to seek their quarry.

The grass parted to reveal a clearing. In the clearing there were several rabbits, moving slowly and picking at the grass beneath them with twitching whiskers.

Emmerich gazed at them, interest overflowing. They did not look to be very large. The boy believed that this would make them easy to catch. He wanted to burst from the tall grass and overcome one of them. He wished to turn around with his prize in his teeth and show his dad what he had done. The only problem with his plan was that he knew nothing of hunting.

The boy’s pale head lifted to his father. He licked his lips – a flash of pink from his mouth – and released a quiet whine. He wanted one of those rabbits and he did not want to wait for it.

emmerich wished to go. they were not well-positioned for much more than luck. "geh rechts," he instructed in a balancing rumble. he waited and then moved opposite.
it would be a hard chuff, his signal. he did not yet give it, eyes straining to see how emmerich stalked around the unsuspecting warren.

The words from his father were met with pointed ears and an eager wag of his tail. Emmerich was ready! He’d been ready ever since the grass had been parted and the rabbits had been revealed to him. Mahler believed that they would have a chance at catching one, or so the pup believed. He would prowl to the right and his father would swoop in to help Emmerich secure their target. Later, he could rub his hunting excursion in Isa’s face.

Emmerich plodded to the right, not being mindful enough to avoid making noise. He tried to keep his frame crouched, just as he had seen Mahler’s. His eyes were turned on the small rabbits. When he had found a spot where he believed he would remain undetected, he parted the grass and his head was revealed.

emmerich waited.
mahler was emboldened by this early show of observation. he waited five seconds, ticking them off in his head, and then leapt over the fringe of tall grass.
the rabbits sprang in all directions. they slammed into his ankles. he sounded his command for his son to join him. the warren surged away, in emmerich's direction.
through sheer luck mahler caught one beneath his paw. he killed it quickly and snapped for another.

Mahler burst from his place, frightening his son.

Emmerich floundered on his feet, taking much too long before he darted forward in hopes that he might catch one of the fleeing rabbits in his teeth. He snapped at a few of them. One, then another, but the little creatures were wickedly fast and were making such high noises that the boy thought there was something wrong.

Chasing after a single bunny, Emmerich bounded away into the brush of tall grass. He sniffed at the ground the way he had seen his father do. He lifted his head, hoping that the rabbit might be foolish and attempt to double back. It did not, and the boy was left standing in the grass with a scowl upon his face.

it seemed he had not been a good teacher.
emmerich was left empty-jawed and confused. the leverets and grown rabbits raced into the forest, evading any further attack.
"das nächste mal lieber junge," mahler said with encouragement. "kommen sie und sehen sie."
the second rabbit was young and not dead, only wounded. mahler chuffed for emmerich to draw closer, guarding the animal from flight.

Emmerich looked at his father with a sour expression. He smacked his lips with a heavy-lidded stare in the direction of the gargoyle. It was clear that he was battling between the urge to pout and the curiosity at what Mahler had caught in his attempts. Curiosity was something that rarely lost. The young boy spun to where his dad stood and padded toward him with his head hung low and his nostrils flared to pull in scents.

One of the rabbits was left alive. It was wounded and bled. The smell of it drew Emmerich forward to sniff at the little creature. His eyes were steady, unblinking. He feared that if he closed them for even a moment, the little thing would spring up and vanish into the shrubbery.

Es wackelt.

The white-hooded boy glanced to his father.

oops sorry to let this go so long! im gonna start them a new one, no rush <3

"ja, in der tat. du musst es töten." he studied the boy. by now none of the three children were strangers to the killing of meat. that it would be their duty was an ongoing lesson.
the rabbit panted. he nudged it forward and crouched down. "folge deinem instinkt, mein sohn."
his lavender eyes were somber but encouraging. he would step in to help if it proved beyond emmerich's capabilities.

We could probably fade this one? <3 It's totally up to you.

The young boy looked at his father once after being told that he would need to kill the rabbit.

Emmerich was not interested in disappointing Mahler. He wanted to show that he was capable, that he was responsible. He might have failed to capture his own prize but that did not mean that he would falter when presented with one of his dad’s.

Stepping toward the rabbit, he sniffed at the creature and drew his tongue across his lips. The taste of it would overwhelm him, he knew. It would allow him to finish the kill. He would not need his father. Emmerich followed through on it, after a moment of struggling in the strength of his jaw. When he had finished the task, he looked to Mahler with a wagging tail.

fading! <3

the kill was messy but emmerich finished the prey.
"sehr gut," mahler intoned, reaching out to shuffle the pup's ears. he gestured that emmerich should pick it up.
"deine mutter wird sich sehr freuen." he grinned. there was a glow in his amethyst eyes.
together vater und sohn would make their way back to the middle territory, where he thought wylla would welcome the boy with much praise.