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[Slaying the Dreamer]

words: 457 I've got soul but I'm not a soldier Slay was beginning to feel more at ease with his role of makeshift father. He knew that Anka had named Cercelee as their sole guardian, but whether or not she had known her distant cousin had a mate, he felt just as responsible for the waifs as she did. Maybe he was less sensitive to the feelings of those who had been abandoned, or maybe he was just a big awkward male trying to fill shoes he never could, but at first it had been really frustrating trying to fit in, to understand the pups' broken English, to adjust his lazy schedule to spend time with the siblings. But now that time had passed, he was feeling much better about the whole situation. He and Roulette had played together on the beach, Avarice had worked her charms on him, and best of all, Catalyst had even begun teaching him some snippets of German in return for his bumbling English lessons. That certainly made him feel more welcome... like his efforts were not being wasted. The arctic wolf was sprawled on the soft grass of the lawn in front of the church, watching the sun begin its descent below the treeline. A pair of still-wet carp lay arranged beside his white paws, a dinner treat for whichever pup returned home to the church first today. The little family had become quite adventurous in the past few weeks, wandering further and further from their adoptive home. It was a good thing for wolves to do - it would teach them a lot, meeting new people, pacing themselves, perhaps even hunting a little on their own. Still, being the possessive mother hen he was, Slay worried that they might be meeting the wrong people, or learning the wrong things. Cercelee might be the most wholesome wolf in their pack, but if the kids didn't listen to her advice, it would account for nothing. Yawning deeply, the oddly-marked male laid his chin atop his paws, pale eyes drowsy. It had been fun to catch fish again, if only from the river. Soon he could try the ocean again... Saltwater fish were the best. Since he had run away from home in his youth, he had developed a talent at snagging the scaly snacks from waterways. They were the one reliable prey, even when deer were scarce and rodents were in hiding. He thought perhaps it was something he could teach to the de Sadira brood, if they too liked the fishy taste. "Hm... Maybe carp were a bad choice... It might be too strong a flavor for their first try..." Slay yawned again, needing his mid-afternoon nap to fix his sleep schedule. Narcolepsy really drained the juice out of a guy...

[Catharsis de Sadira]

Sorry for the wait. [WC: 323]

Catharsis liked fish. They swam in pretty patterns and shining colours through the water, mesmerising her. She'd never thought about whether they were even alive, let alone able to be killed and eaten, until she caught the scent of them (and Slay) and tracked them both to the church's front lawn. Granted, she probably could have seen them before she'd really started 'tracking' them, but such was not the point at hand for a pup such as Catharsis. Bounding up to the sleeping (or so it seemed) male, the dark pup threw herself on him, teeth latching gently onto his ear and tugging in a would-be ferocious manner. "Affernun, Sway-sway!" she greeted him through her mouthful of ear, though it was a little later than the afternoon. She didn't know the word 'evening' though, so she substituted. Then, looking at the fish, she scrambled over-top of Slay, nearly kicking him in the face in the process, and sniffed at them curiously. "Whassis?" she asked, frowning softly. "Fischen.." "Fishy no swim?" comes the following conclusion. Her eyes darted between her guardian's mate and the unmoving fish quickly.

After a long moment, the pup spoke again. "Hunt? ..Slay?" The word no longer referred to the male's name, but to his actions. He had hunted the pretty fish. Why? Did they make good food? Catharsis had not tried many different fares, and she was curious as to what these oddly-scented, slippery creatures might taste like. "Eat?" she inquired, her face twisted in something like a frown mixed with amazement. What a curious idea, eating the pretty fish. If they tasted half as nice as they looked, they would make for a good meal, and Catharsis loved a good meal. Laying down on the grass, belly pressed against the ground, she wagged her tail excitedly, awaiting Slay's response, which would include, with any luck, a wonderful story that explained all of this to the curious little pup.

German English

[Slaying the Dreamer]

ooc: Hey, it's no problem~! ^_^ WC: 382 I've got soul but I'm not a soldier Slay's white-tipped ears caught the sound of the pup's bounding paws crunching through the grass, but the drowsy male did not expect to feel teeth next. His head snapped upright with a startled yelp, pale eyes wide. Usually his mate was the only one to go straight for the ears; now the pups appeared to have learned the same trick... Catharsis playfully snarled her greeting, clambering atop his tall body as if he were nothing more than a hillock to romp atop. Grumbling something under his breath about 'fat little ingrates getting heavier', the good-natured arctic wolf leaned back to meet the black child's mismatched eyes. "Good afternoon, Cath... Ja, fishy no swim. We eat fish!" He bridled with pleasure, both at hearing her chirping English, and being able to use his own scant vocabulary of German. Catalyst was trying to teach him, after all, and he was trying his best to keep up. He laid a wide paw atop one of the two limp carp, its dark scaly body still slippery to the touch. "To eat a fischen, you have to get past the scales... That's easy, for a wolf!" He smiled as she wriggled in the grass, clearly excited at being taught something new. Slay did love to be talkative, and he certainly valued those willing to listen to him ramble. He hoped curious Cath would enjoy the lesson, because if she ended up disliking the fish, she'd probably never listen to him again. "Pin down the tail and the head with your two front paws, like this," he demonstrated, still sprawled comfortably on the lawn. "Then tear open the belly, like so!" His flashing fangs made quick work of the carp's soft underbelly, opening a gash through the scaly armor. "Now you can stick your muzzle through the hole and eat it all up, without any of those crunchy scales. Of course, you could eat them anyway, but... that's your call." He shrugged nonchalantly, hoping she had followed most of the instructions. The spindly bones inside were no match for a wolf's jaws, making fish a simple treat to snack on. He nosed the pair of fish towards her, pale eyes friendly. Would she taste the one he had started? Would she try to open up her own carp?