[RQ] A snowman doesn't carrot all

everything I let go

Erebos didn’t know Iskra well, but that didn’t stop him from chattering on and on as they began to hunt down necessary materials for eventual snowman guards – even if he was momentarily distracted by canines and his own frost fox companion, as Orsino couldn’t quite fathom how to maneuver around the other beast, and ended up spitting and shrieking from behind the youth’s long, gangly legs. This didn’t quite bother the boy in the slightest though, used to the reel of companion antics from the Ignatius household. Like Belial hovering overhead. “What’s your dog’s name?” he started with rapt enthusiasm and bright eyes, before reaching down for a couple sticks laden beneath an old pine, and shoving them into his bag.

Then came the rest of the questions and minor stories, spilling out from his mouth as easy as breathing. “Have you ever made snowmen before? I have! Glas and I even made some with cool poses at the festival. You went skijoring there, right? I did with Amham on a pony!” If Iskra could afford to get a word in edgewise, it’d be when Erebos ran underneath a very snow-laden set of branches and boughs, retrieving a few stray sticks from the ground, then bounding out again in equal fervor. “What’s woodcutting like? Does it get boring?”

Erebos

has claw marks on it

Iskra

It isn't often that Goose finds himself braver than another. Size is part of the struggle, but aura is the majority of it, innate with most species that need only throw him a look and he's granting them a wider berth. In a world of magic and fantastic things, a dog is much more ordinary than most, and Goose is not oblivious to his place in the world.

Frost foxes though, oh, those he enjoys chasing through the tundra, frozen risks be damned, So he absolutely lords his confidence over the young, wary, crackling fox. All of which is accomplished by taking a grand amount of time to sniff at Erebos' shoes and pantlegs, the curl of his tail flipping up over his back as Goose makes a real casual show of it, completely ignoring Orsino, or so he makes it seem.

"Goose," Iskra answers with a warm smile, ever happy to talk about his dear friend and biggest pain the ass. Speaking of which, he snaps pointedly at his side, but it earns only the faintest twitch of one ear from the husky. A sign that he heard, and then promptly chose to ignore. Two can play asshole, and with litlte more than a thought a little wisp of fire nips at the husky's front feet until he's forced to back up with a snort and a pounce. "Give the boy and his fox some space," Iskra hisses, the flame snapping back into place, but Goose sneezes and shakes his head at it, a high-pitched, complaint of a bark offered up as he lunges and nips at the side of the fire.

Leaving the dog be before he has a complete meltdown, Iskra's attention slips back to Erebos, which is no difficult task when he crowds his breath with all the questions he can. "I'm probably not nearly as skilled as you are," he confesses of his snowmen skills. "But, yes, I've built several over the years." The bright, eager attitude of the boy draws an easy shape of joy to Iskra's features. Reaching up to snag at taller, brittle branches as they wander, his axe at times employed to make the task faster, he gathers several sticks as well and deposits them in the sled he's dutifully pulling for all their supplies.

"That's right, and yes, I saw your run! Very impressive." There isn't even exaggeration to it, it had been quite the show. "Hmm, well I don't get bored, but I suppose some would find it dull. You have to be good at sitting with silence, and have a strong enough body to handle the vibrations that go up the axe all day,"

Singing under string lights, sipping 'til the sunrise
Living like we only got today
Swearing off the dark times, cursing at the moonlight
Yeah, we might be lost, but we'll find our way

everything I let go

Erebos giggled with delight as the husky wheeled around his feet, but couldn’t be immune to Orsino’s concern once it was laden through the bond enough. “Sorry bud,” he whispered, picking the frost fox up and prospering him along his shoulders, fluffy tail now in his face, as the dog was called to heel. “How come you named him Goose?” A funny name – because the furry fiend wasn’t even close to the waterfowl – but maybe that had been the point of it.

When the woodcutter didn’t seem perturbed by the endless slog of inquiries, the youth continued his sporting grin, ambling over to another pile of branches and brambles long since tossed about by the wind, shoving them into his bag or breaking off portions so they were easier to handle. Orsino struck a careful balance of glaring at Goose or maintaining his foothold on the child’s jacket, claws dug in. “Well that’s good! Did you make them have funny faces?” Half the time anything occurred around the youth was out of a source of amusement, a pattern he’d inherited from both parents.

His eyes swept up when Iskra employed his tools though, a little mixture of awe wrapped in his signature smile. “Oooh – do you like using your ax in battle too? I’ve seen some do it in the barracks. Dad won’t let me have a sharp weapon yet,” and he sighed, rolling his eyes, as if not granting a seven-year-old leave of many serrated armaments was a harsh decree. “Just the wooden ones.” But even then they were fun to swing around and practice with, and he had many dreams of hitting Marcus with one in the back of his knees.

Being told his run was impressive earned significant merit and credence towards Iskra, and the boy was suddenly carrying himself much taller, reaching for higher branches and breaking off ends. For one who’d rarely sat in silence, the notions of lumberjacking were swiftly cut from the list of potential, future employment endeavors. “Oh. It’s really hard to be quiet sometimes.”

Erebos

has claw marks on it

Iskra

Driven back by the bite of fire and its annoying vanishing act, Goose feigns to be on the lookout for more interesting options than the rescued fox. Eventually, he trots off ahead of them, seeming to take up the mantle of leader. "Because he always gooses me," Iskra says with a slanted grin, demonstrating with a tuck of his ass, hips pulled forward in a sharp motion, his hand awkwardly angling behind him to spear his bottom cheeks.

Keeping hold of the sled in his other hand, it slips along on the snow with them as they wander, gradually acquiring more and more burden of supplies as Iskra loads more stripped sticks for snowmen appendages into it. "Sometimes," he offers back with a tilt of his head, a conspirator's grin slowly creeping into place. "I prefer to make mine look angry or scary. Like they're waging snow wars with each other. Pine needle strips make excellent eyebrows." A bit like what they'd be building.

It's no surprise that the lad is already arming himself and practicing, but Iskra can't help the faint laugh at the mild indignation over not being granted steel yet. "I still use wood sometimes," he offers, hopefully helpfully to the Ignatius household. "When I want to focus on something specific, or trial things first, or if I'm trying something new. Although, yes, axe is my preference." He spins the tool in his hand, the small, cutting edge no battle tool, meant to be small enough for his belt. "I do have a greataxe I use in battle sometimes, named Ampere."

Shucking more branches, a delighted chuckle rolls deep and long from him. "I was not fond of quiet when I was young," he agrees, glancing back at Erebos with an avant-garde wave of a stick. "It does help you find things sometimes though." Peace, or in this case, the knowledge of the woods who have been his company, stopping short. He crouches next to their sled, pointing out acorns on the ground to Erebos. "Look, acorns. Those could make good eyes, don't y'think?" Of course, he is not authorized to make this decision. "I need someone with your snowman skills to decide."

Singing under string lights, sipping 'til the sunrise
Living like we only got today
Swearing off the dark times, cursing at the moonlight
Yeah, we might be lost, but we'll find our way