Damien
the horrors persist
but the wonders prevail
but the wonders prevail
Aria went stiff under Lena’s hands at first, ears flat and whiskers twitching, but she didn’t fight. She blinked up at the stranger’s calm face, sniffed her fingers, and then leaned into the touch with a soft chirp, tail flicking against the stone. By the time Lena’s inspection reached her haunches and tail, the cub was rolling halfway onto her side, batting at the trowel Lena had set aside like it was fair game.
Damien let out a low breath, something between relief and exasperation. “Figures. She doesn’t let me check her paws half the time, but a total stranger?” His mouth tugged wryly, though his eyes stayed sharp on the process.
When Lena mentioned meat and hunting, he nodded once. “Meat’s easy enough. Hunting, though…” His brow furrowed, gaze flicking down at the cub sprawled like she owned the place. “I guess I could drag a hide across the snow, get her to chase, but.. that’s just a game. How would you teach a cub to hunt?”
His attention shifted when Lena’s eyes caught on the crate. He angled it a little closer, shoulders easing. “Yeah, it is. Good eye. It's bitter, but it'll knock down a fever or settle an upset stomach. Other one’s sorrel—it's good on meat or a salad. Good for you, too. Grew ’em from clippings I cut in Halo. Figured you might put ’em to good use here.” At that, he set the crate down on a nearby bench(?).
Meanwhile Aria, emboldened now that the exam was over, turned her sights back on Mittens. She crept forward, belly low, ears pricked sharp. The snowball hovered like judgment itself, and Aria chirped once, then again—louder, sharper—before adding a small growl as if she could match its noise with her own.
Damien let out a low breath, something between relief and exasperation. “Figures. She doesn’t let me check her paws half the time, but a total stranger?” His mouth tugged wryly, though his eyes stayed sharp on the process.
When Lena mentioned meat and hunting, he nodded once. “Meat’s easy enough. Hunting, though…” His brow furrowed, gaze flicking down at the cub sprawled like she owned the place. “I guess I could drag a hide across the snow, get her to chase, but.. that’s just a game. How would you teach a cub to hunt?”
His attention shifted when Lena’s eyes caught on the crate. He angled it a little closer, shoulders easing. “Yeah, it is. Good eye. It's bitter, but it'll knock down a fever or settle an upset stomach. Other one’s sorrel—it's good on meat or a salad. Good for you, too. Grew ’em from clippings I cut in Halo. Figured you might put ’em to good use here.” At that, he set the crate down on a nearby bench(?).
Meanwhile Aria, emboldened now that the exam was over, turned her sights back on Mittens. She crept forward, belly low, ears pricked sharp. The snowball hovered like judgment itself, and Aria chirped once, then again—louder, sharper—before adding a small growl as if she could match its noise with her own.
