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+---- Thread: [PRP] These havecock brats [Haven/Doli/Yale] (/thread-3801.html)
These havecock brats [Haven/Doli/Yale] - Pareidolia - March 16, 2018
The queen gingerly sat down in her den, groaning softly. She was tired. She had managed to shuffle her duties and her children around today long enough to have a spare moment, about half an hour, to just...lay down. She’d had a status meeting with Ghost and Xenia at their den rather than the meeting grounds to spare all three parents an extra ten minutes. She’d managed to pawn of some the children on a beleaguered Cockatrice and some others on an awkward Kashmir. Everyone had agreed it was usually best to keep the children of groups of three or less - to keep chaos to a minimum, so the litter tended to be a bit scattered. The fact that Inaria was now short a beta and a head medic only added to the queen’s stress. She’d need to meet with Weiss today, too. At least the Pages had an Emissary, so the ranks weren’t in complete disarray.
She’d curled up, her hip aching, and sighed as she let her head lay across her forepaws. She closed her eyes for just a moment until she realized. Three children with Trice. Three children with Kashmir. A single gold eye opened and glanced over at the two that had very nearly been forgotten in the rush.
“Ah.” She replied. “Hello.”
~
Pareidolia, like most children, was concerned far less with the stressors and weak spots in her noble kingdom through which could slip enemies than she was with some good old mothafuckin' PLAYTIME. She often followed her parents, fascinated by them, weaving through their strong strides like the little pest she was, nipping at their tails when they tried to rest. Sometimes, she'd fall asleep with a face full of gold or burgundy fur should she hit that puppy crash and need a nap so deep it was almost a coma.
Queen Mom was just the best! She was big and pretty and strong and everyone had to listen to her because she was the boss here. Even her godfather, quiet and funny looking Kashmir, deferred to her. Doli already noticed these things, you see, perhaps tellingly.
Haven's firstborn bounced up to her, all energy and silliness, and jumped none too gently up on her broad golden back. If she didn't watch out, the queen of swords might find herself in a rather unroyal position: Doli was quite literally trying to climb up onto her head. Look at me, I'm on a high up place! How fun!
"Hi mama! Guess what, I caught a bug today and ate it and it was GROSS!"
~
He was sure his parents had some type of procedure for keeping track of so many children. Like maybe on Mondays Cockatrice watched all the kids whose names began with vowels or maybe on Fridays Kashmir watched the ones who names longer than two syllables. And really it all just seemed too much to Yale, he was a grown puppy, he should be free to come and go as he pleases. Sure, maybe the other ones needed a little more structure and overseeing, but he wasn’t like them…he was better.
Which was why he was a little put out to be left behind? Why hadn’t Papa or Uncle Kash taken him along? Why would they take silly Griffin or stinky Azrael and not him? The prince scowled, and if he had the features necessary he would have pouted at his predicament.
At Haven’s greeting, he’s would shuffle over to his mother and fling himself into the thick fur around her neck, in a face plant-esque movement. With his entire face buried, he’d mumble “….they left me…I can’t believe they would leave me!” For a few minutes he would stay there, unmoving, just thinking.
“YOU KNOW WHAT…” He just about yelled, before pushing himself off the Queen and scrambling to a proud upright position. “It’s really their loss, I get to hang out with Mama and….Doli….and they don’t get to hang out with me”. His bicolor tail began to wag, slowly at first and then building speed. “I THINK WE KNOW WHO THE REAL WINNER IS…ME. IT’S ME. I WON TODAY.”
~
The queen grunted unceremoniously as her firstborn slammed into her back. Children, especially lately, made her feel so old. She lifted her head as her daughter climbed up the ladder of her spine and scruff, the weight of the child now resting on her broad skull as Pareidolia announced her feelings on bugs and looked down on her brother.
In dramatics of a similar scale, though different flavor, Yale had buried his face into her neck, moaning that he had been left behind by his siblings and father and godfather. Haven sighed and struggled for a moment to tilt her head an angle that would force Pareidolia to slide gently from the top of her head and down to the floor with a plop. “Don’t climb on people.” Haven said sternly before turning back to her son.
“You don’t need anyone to stay with you to have a nice time. You’re right, you can be successful either way. That’s called independence.” Haven replied. “Though Pareidolia and I are happy to spend time with you.”
She sighed, glancing between the two. “How do I keep you entertained...” The question was more to herself than it was to them, but she continued. “We could listen to your sister’s story about who let her eat a bug.”
~
If she were older, with an appreciation for such things, the little princess would have laughed at her mother’s severity, an almost military sternness that was comical when surrounded by excitable fluffballs. As it was, Doli just slid on down Haven’s snout, giving an oof upon landing on the ground again. Hey, gravity works!
“Again?” she wheedled, rolling back up and wagging her tail, a motion that continued even when mother told her no. Eugh, she hated that word. “Aww, moooom... no climbing? How come no climbing? Can I climb on dad? What about... Kash... moor?” Totally nailed it. She was very good at remembering names! Saying them right, too!!
But suddenly, Yale came! Doli had many brothers and sisters, and differentiated them in sometimes odd ways; to her this brother was “two-face” in her head. He looked so funny, like someone had taken two wolves and stuck them together! Maybe Trice and Haven thought he was funny looking, too... albeit not quite in the same way. In any case, she stalked over to him (really, it was more of a bounce) and wiggled her rump smartly. “Hey, Yale! I betcha can’t pin me down!”
Whatever came of that challenge, she’d still listen (or at least half listen) to her mother in the background. The lesson on independence went a little over her head, but the mention of bugs caught her attention. “Nobody let me! I got it all by myself. Princesses get to eat all the bugs they want. Even if they taste nasty. Eww, momma, it really did... it tasted like how Yale smells.”