Tal had never seen a fyrhund run or do anything else, including exist before today either, but he wasn't about to admit it. "Nah, s'okay. I got it," he boasted confidently, unable to help but try to show off for a cute red head.
It was a lie. It was very much a lie and Boreal gave him a look of draconic disbelief before huffing a curl of smoke from her jaws and speeding up to scout ahead, slipping out from under his hand. He watched her go with a slightly pained expression but it only lasted a moment before rumbling growls and angry calls for meat and eyes sobered him up again and he took a tighter grip on his spear.
"Reckon it's just over the rise," he countered but gave her a short nod of agreement for her optimism. "Wouldn't say no to that, t'be honest. Any of those things should slow it down when we start runnin', too." That wasn't how his luck usually ran, however.
She surprised a grin out of him with her bold saleswomanship, reminding her a little of someone else he knew who was good at promoting themselves... Him. "Sure. Y'don't happen t'have a magic weapon handy, do you? Or somethin' that cuts through rock? Now would be a good time for it." He slowed as they reached the top of the little ridge and looked down into a valley between solidified lava flows. A slow, red river flowed sluggishly through the center but the action was happening a short distance away from it. A broad, messy crow nest had been tucked up on a thrust of basalt, seemingly away from danger. Unfortunately the fyrhund had risen up onto its hind legs and stretched its full length up the rocky column. Big and heavy with stony armor, she was just tall enough to bat at the edge of the nest, trying to knock it off its perch.
The reason why was obvious on second glance: a young pup, about Boreal's size, hid between his mother's feet while several Gore Crows furiously flapped and pecked at its mother's face, trying to force her away from the communal nest full of eggs and Flowerbirth hatchlings croaking piteously for eyes as their home wobbled and rocked precariously.
It was a lie. It was very much a lie and Boreal gave him a look of draconic disbelief before huffing a curl of smoke from her jaws and speeding up to scout ahead, slipping out from under his hand. He watched her go with a slightly pained expression but it only lasted a moment before rumbling growls and angry calls for meat and eyes sobered him up again and he took a tighter grip on his spear.
"Reckon it's just over the rise," he countered but gave her a short nod of agreement for her optimism. "Wouldn't say no to that, t'be honest. Any of those things should slow it down when we start runnin', too." That wasn't how his luck usually ran, however.
She surprised a grin out of him with her bold saleswomanship, reminding her a little of someone else he knew who was good at promoting themselves... Him. "Sure. Y'don't happen t'have a magic weapon handy, do you? Or somethin' that cuts through rock? Now would be a good time for it." He slowed as they reached the top of the little ridge and looked down into a valley between solidified lava flows. A slow, red river flowed sluggishly through the center but the action was happening a short distance away from it. A broad, messy crow nest had been tucked up on a thrust of basalt, seemingly away from danger. Unfortunately the fyrhund had risen up onto its hind legs and stretched its full length up the rocky column. Big and heavy with stony armor, she was just tall enough to bat at the edge of the nest, trying to knock it off its perch.
The reason why was obvious on second glance: a young pup, about Boreal's size, hid between his mother's feet while several Gore Crows furiously flapped and pecked at its mother's face, trying to force her away from the communal nest full of eggs and Flowerbirth hatchlings croaking piteously for eyes as their home wobbled and rocked precariously.
