So it is a wonderful surprise when the stoatlets not only are all hale and healthy come Spring, but larger and more vigorous than the average batch. True to form, Dame Tom would like them to listen to her. True to being stoats, the stoatlets do what they want.
What mischief will they get up to, and who will be there to witness it?
Dec. 2, 2019, 1:15 p.m.
Outside Arx - Lodge of Petrichor - Grounds
Comments and Log
2 Keaton Huntsmen, River, a happy Oakhaven bloodhound, Barf, the Bog Dog, Bandit, a dapple gray Duskshire feral arrive, following Amari.
Connal, a Northern Wolfhound arrives, following Rosalind.
The tall rangy fellow, that's Gogil for those of you playing at home, comes to the Lodge of Petrichor eyes wide and with looks of wonder on his features. "Wow, I have made a grand discovery! No one is going to believ.." he voice trails off as he looks around the grounds proper. "Oh.." starts to say with a shrugs his shoulders, "guess it's not some shav encampment afterall."
The fine clear sky lends little warmth today, but for those so freshly free from the grip of winter the weather is still a massive improvement. For those with coats of fur built in, the chill is beneath notice. The mottled group of baby stoats are a full half dozen, each with their summer coat still growing in and shedding their winter coats. Now several months grown, these stoats look of a size to go off on their own, yet haven't for some reason.
Dame Tom, the matriarch, is clearly why. She stands out from others of her kind, wearing a dark red bandana with the sigil of Petrichor laid over the sigil of the Iron Guard around her neck. One ear mostly lost in some battle, and far more commanding than any tiny creature should manage to be. For the human observers, she is adorable, yipping and trying to command her little army. For the litter, she is the absolute last thing they want to listen to after being cooped up in a borough with her for months.
But what of the people watching this display? Well, they have a wonderful view from the Lodge itself. The field being used is close enough to the lodge to be easily seen, and the grass is not yet thick enough to hide the mischief the stoats are trying to get up to. A pie cart that someone has left at the Lodge has even been put to service, some of those visiting for one reason or another gathering to catch a bite to eat while enjoying the local entertainment. Sparte Grayfellow, who calls Dame Tom his companion (He is very careful never to call her a pet), is amongst the observers. Some present will be here as his guests, those who expressed interest in winning over the affection of a stoat to have as their own companions. Others, well, just lucky timing.
Leola sits on the table that was used at the Feast, swinging her legs in her skirts and coat, and she grins a little as she watches and quietly enjoys some honey and bread "Quite the sight" She chuckles "Those ones are just full of energy. I wonder how growing up here has left them?"
With it finally being spring, Lady Amari Keaton has been finding excuses to slip out beyond the high walls of Arx more often. She seems to have been out for a ride today, letting Bandit, her dapple gray war horse stretch his legs. That's led her here, to the Lodge, and to being in the audience doing some stoat watching while her horse is watered and given a rest. She looks bemused by the antics so far. At Leola's question, she wonders as well. "Perhaps they're more lively?"
Having a flair that looks more fitting for the ball room than the outdoors, Jules enters. His smile is broadly stretched across his face in a way that might look painful for some but looks well stretched and comfortable on his. In this moment, he flitters about hurriedly towards the group that is forming. He, for whatever reason, draws towards Dame Leola and drops to a flourishing bow with an outstretched hand and says, "I say, what a delight!"
Eina, Soot, a ferret arrive, following Peri.
Coming to cool off, because gods she's been hot, Rosalind has ventured over but finds--"Oh! What's going on here?"a grin appearing on her freckled face. Her northern accent may be a bit thicker.
Sparte is eating his bit of pie with the flat of a dull knife he keeps on him. Who needs a fork? He puts another swab of pie into his mouth and swallows, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of one arm before grinning over at Leola and Amari. "I've wondered the same." He looks back out at the field, checking the sky. "Birds aren't out. At least, not the ones who'd harass them." On Jules' approach, Sparte gestures for them to help themselves to something from the pie cart.
The stoatlets bound around after one another through the field. They nip and play hunt with one another, and abruptly, all of the stoatlets start running in the same direction. Whether towards or away from something isn't immediately clear.
Gogil finds himself standing near the table that Leola sits at, his lips quirking to the side a bit as he looks out towards the field and the stoats that have been mustered. "I am confused," he says with a pushing back some locks of his hair, "What exactly are we looking at?" His head tilts and a smile forms on his lips at the stoatlets bounding in unison. "Oh! Those little buggers. Cute!"
Peri and Eina both have visited the stoatlets before when they were young. They admired the fluff noodles from afar. Soot, a ferret, is peeking out from Peri's bag. She waves to Sparte when she sees him, and looks around for the stoatlets.
Merek makes a way onto the lodge to find and watch people play with the stoatlets and herd all of them about, his dark attire on with his scarf pulled about while he waves, then finds a place to settle in with a few and watch them! "Stoatlets!"
Merek has joined the line.
Peri has joined the line.
Jules has joined the line.
Leola has joined the line.
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