Damien
the horrors persist
but the wonders prevail
but the wonders prevail
Aria sniffed at Lena’s hand first, but the smell of jerky overruled any hesitation. She snapped the strip neatly from Lena’s fingers, carried it a pace away, then flopped onto her belly with paws braced around it like treasure. A rumble vibrated out of her chest—not quite a purr, but close enough. When she’d finished worrying the treat down to nothing, she scampered back to Lena’s knees, chirping sharp little sounds and rubbing her cheek against the woman’s boot in a clumsy attempt at thanks.
Damien’s mouth curved, half a smirk, half the ghost of something softer. He rubbed at his chin as Lena explained, thumb scraping along the rough edge of his jaw. “String, then meat, then bigger game…” He repeated the steps under his breath, testing the shape of them. “Could run or even use a sled to build up her legs and lungs. She'll need the endurance in Halo's climate.” His eyes flicked back to the cub, who was licking her chops with gusto. “Makes sense. If she can learn to help me scout and track… she’ll be more use than half the men I’ve worked with.” The thought seemed to settle into him, and instead of daunted by the tasks ahead, he looked quietly energized.
He tilted his head at Lena then, practical curiosity cutting through. “And bonding? Feeding her and running her is one thing. But how do I make sure she doesn’t see me as just... the one that feeds her? What keeps her close when she’s big enough to leave if she wants?”
Meanwhile, Aria’s campaign against Mittens had not ended. Noise had failed, so she tried stealth. She crouched low, haunches wiggling, then launched herself up at the empty air beneath the hovering snowball. She missed by a long way, but that didn’t seem to matter—she landed in a roll, scrambled back to her feet, and bounced in a little circle, chirping as if daring Mittens to come down and play.
Damien snorted, shaking his head a fraction. “She's going to get herself killed chasing after the wrong thing someday,” he muttered, though his eyes betrayed a touch of pride in her persistence.
Damien’s mouth curved, half a smirk, half the ghost of something softer. He rubbed at his chin as Lena explained, thumb scraping along the rough edge of his jaw. “String, then meat, then bigger game…” He repeated the steps under his breath, testing the shape of them. “Could run or even use a sled to build up her legs and lungs. She'll need the endurance in Halo's climate.” His eyes flicked back to the cub, who was licking her chops with gusto. “Makes sense. If she can learn to help me scout and track… she’ll be more use than half the men I’ve worked with.” The thought seemed to settle into him, and instead of daunted by the tasks ahead, he looked quietly energized.
He tilted his head at Lena then, practical curiosity cutting through. “And bonding? Feeding her and running her is one thing. But how do I make sure she doesn’t see me as just... the one that feeds her? What keeps her close when she’s big enough to leave if she wants?”
Meanwhile, Aria’s campaign against Mittens had not ended. Noise had failed, so she tried stealth. She crouched low, haunches wiggling, then launched herself up at the empty air beneath the hovering snowball. She missed by a long way, but that didn’t seem to matter—she landed in a roll, scrambled back to her feet, and bounced in a little circle, chirping as if daring Mittens to come down and play.
Damien snorted, shaking his head a fraction. “She's going to get herself killed chasing after the wrong thing someday,” he muttered, though his eyes betrayed a touch of pride in her persistence.
