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Jun. 1st, 2007 11:21 pmShe sits upside down in her chair, her hair pooling on the floor, her hands playing Cat's Cradle with silver thread as her eyes watch the large white wolf.
"You're taking forever," she bemoans.
The white wolf skewers her with a glare. My lady, perhaps you should have a child and learn that it is not you who decides when the baby comes.
Mons had been in labour since supper. Midnight was coming. Moon was bored. She sighs and begins another complicated pattern with the thread. Footsteps enter the library, which is where Mons and Mare had decided the pups would be born, and her green gaze glances over.
"Sulking there isn't going to make those babies come any faster," Skill tsks, folding her hands in front of her apron. "You plan on taking our guest home?"
"He'll go insane here. Cuckoo, you know?" Moon asks distractedly. "As cuckoo as me. Cuckoo! Cuckoo!" The card giggles insanely at that, her cheeks flushing pink as the laughter dies.
Skill shakes her head and pets Mons' head. "It'll be soon, ol' girl," she informs the wolf.
"It'd better be. Soon and sooner and soonest. Puppies to yap and puppies to eat. But we don't eat puppies, do we? No. Puppies eat us. All sugar and sharp teeth," she mumbles to herself as the double full moons rise high in the night sky, a blue cast to them.
"You just had to have 'em tonight, didn't you?" Skill asks Mons.
I did not have much choice. Mons lays her head down on the down pills she's on and pants in pain. The cycle moves as it chooses to, and when the time is right, no one can dissuade it.
Mare paces out of fatherly worry, occasionally nuzzling his mate and whining.
Skill and Moon pass the time with the wolves until, finally, the first puppy arrives.
The pure white fluff ball makes Moon squee with absolute delight while Skill busies herself with cleaning the puppy off and setting it aside, announcing in a very sure voice that the little bundle of white fluff was a girl.
Once the first puppy comes, the others follow relatively quickly. Soon, Skill is wiping her hands on her apron as five puppies -- two girls and three boys -- nurse from their exhausted, half-sleeping mother.
Moon eyes them, the thread tangled in her lap. "Only one looks like Mons and one looks like Mare. The others don't."
"Of course not," Skill chuckles, eyeing the three grey-white puppies. "Those are the product of two different parents. True melding of father and mother."
Moon wrinkles her nose. "Or else Mons was boinking another wolf behind Mare's back." She gets two pairs of eyes glaring at her, and she's sure if Mons had been awake, she'd have been giving the same sort of glare. "What?"
Skill merely shakes her head and turns her attention back to mother and puppies. It's been a long time since there had been a baby in the castle.
"Chloe was born just last year!" Moon huffs before beginning to play with her thread again.
Well... maybe not so long, Skill muses to herself.
But long enough.
"You're taking forever," she bemoans.
The white wolf skewers her with a glare. My lady, perhaps you should have a child and learn that it is not you who decides when the baby comes.
Mons had been in labour since supper. Midnight was coming. Moon was bored. She sighs and begins another complicated pattern with the thread. Footsteps enter the library, which is where Mons and Mare had decided the pups would be born, and her green gaze glances over.
"Sulking there isn't going to make those babies come any faster," Skill tsks, folding her hands in front of her apron. "You plan on taking our guest home?"
"He'll go insane here. Cuckoo, you know?" Moon asks distractedly. "As cuckoo as me. Cuckoo! Cuckoo!" The card giggles insanely at that, her cheeks flushing pink as the laughter dies.
Skill shakes her head and pets Mons' head. "It'll be soon, ol' girl," she informs the wolf.
"It'd better be. Soon and sooner and soonest. Puppies to yap and puppies to eat. But we don't eat puppies, do we? No. Puppies eat us. All sugar and sharp teeth," she mumbles to herself as the double full moons rise high in the night sky, a blue cast to them.
"You just had to have 'em tonight, didn't you?" Skill asks Mons.
I did not have much choice. Mons lays her head down on the down pills she's on and pants in pain. The cycle moves as it chooses to, and when the time is right, no one can dissuade it.
Mare paces out of fatherly worry, occasionally nuzzling his mate and whining.
Skill and Moon pass the time with the wolves until, finally, the first puppy arrives.
The pure white fluff ball makes Moon squee with absolute delight while Skill busies herself with cleaning the puppy off and setting it aside, announcing in a very sure voice that the little bundle of white fluff was a girl.
Once the first puppy comes, the others follow relatively quickly. Soon, Skill is wiping her hands on her apron as five puppies -- two girls and three boys -- nurse from their exhausted, half-sleeping mother.
Moon eyes them, the thread tangled in her lap. "Only one looks like Mons and one looks like Mare. The others don't."
"Of course not," Skill chuckles, eyeing the three grey-white puppies. "Those are the product of two different parents. True melding of father and mother."
Moon wrinkles her nose. "Or else Mons was boinking another wolf behind Mare's back." She gets two pairs of eyes glaring at her, and she's sure if Mons had been awake, she'd have been giving the same sort of glare. "What?"
Skill merely shakes her head and turns her attention back to mother and puppies. It's been a long time since there had been a baby in the castle.
"Chloe was born just last year!" Moon huffs before beginning to play with her thread again.
Well... maybe not so long, Skill muses to herself.
But long enough.
